They call him the Wolf.

His club, his brothers, and even my best friend Callie.

I didn't really care what they called him, not when the only name I had ever called him was, coward.

Because three months ago he snuck under my resilient heart, like the thief he is, and stole it.

Then he broke it.

Going home wasn't an option, not when I promised Callie I'd stay. She swore I'd eventually feel like I belonged in this small town.

The club ensured I had a job, and a place to live which reluctantly earned my loyalty.

Until I discovered their little caveat.

The apartment technically belonged to the new president.

I was welcome to stay...as long as I understood it meant sharing.

And my new roommate?

The very man who turned avoidance into an Olympic sport.

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