Page 8 of Hot Girls Date Shifters

A cool breeze stirs the leaves overhead, carrying with it the scent of pine and something else I can't quite place.

Warm.

Wild.

Almost like cinnamon.

I laugh under my breath.

“Okay, Universe.”

I look up through the canopy.

“If you've got something magical planned...”

A strange flutter dances through my chest.

“... I'm listening.”

Because somehow, I don't think whatever the universe has planned for me is going to be found in one of my books. It’s frustrating not being able to go out and grab it.

Hell.

Sometimes it feels like all I can do is wait for it to find me.

And with that, I continue deeper into the woods, blissfully unaware that destiny has already caught my scent.

One

Graham

Nine million.

I stare at the number on my phone for a solid thirty seconds before it finally sinks in.

9,000,247 downloads.

Holy.

Fuck.

Nine million people have listened to a song I wrote sitting on my grandmother's porch with an old guitar balanced across my knees.

Not bad for a freckle-faced kid everyone said would never amount to much.

My Bear puffs his chest out proudly.

Damn right.

A text pops up from my manager.

Steve

You're trending again. Festival in Nashville wants to talk. Call me.

I chuckle.

“Nah.”