Page 16 of My Big Fat Shifter Wedding

“Pardon?”

“Our instructor. I looked him up, did a bit of a social media dive. Unless he’s being extremely secretive, he’s not married and has no posts about a long-term partner. But like I said, that doesn’t mean he’s straight.”

She said it so matter-of-factly that I blinked owlishly at her despite being a wolf. “You stalked his social media?” I whispered back, sure that I had somehow misheard in the throes of my unmitigated thirst.

“Of course. I do that with all my professors. You’d be surprised with how much time it saves in the long run.”

I cleared my throat. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“You should. I only ever lie to corporations and cops.”

Okay then.

“My name’s Amanda, by the way. I prefer my full name but you may call me Mandy if you’re not a jerk about it.”

“Olivia,” I answered automatically. “And just Olivia.”

“Firm. I approve. Hello, Olivia, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Amanda.”

I probably would have puzzled over that interaction a bit longer, but the instructor had reached the front of the class and had begun to talk. Thankfully, I was able to shake myself out of my hormonal stupor and concentrate on the words coming out of his mouth. Because they were important. While I didn’t have to worry about injuries like my presumably human fellow students did, I did have to worry about accidentally exposing my people if I got injured and then rapidly healed in front of everyone.

Now that I thought about it, maybe woodworking hadn’t been the best idea. But whatever, I was present, and I wasn’t about to leave in the middle of the first lesson. Even if the instructor weren’t distractingly attractive, I was determined to give the good old college try to my newfound independence.

However, he was exactly my type, which he only further proved when he began to speak. Not only was his voice low—and I mean low—but there was a softness to the rumble that I hadn’t expected. It was as if his voice was layered in velvet and meant to be listened to intently rather than filtered out. If I wasn’t a wolf, I might have needed to strain for some of the softer things he said. Instead of being annoyed, though, I found myself enraptured. I repeatedly had to remind myself to concentrate on his instructions rather than the subharmonics in his voice. I could smell he was human, so he likely had absolutely no idea of all the layered and honeyed notes that he infused his instructions with.

Oh boy, I am in trouble!

“Now, I know I’ve hit you with a lot of information, but I’m going to come around to every workstation and go over everything personally with you, so do not panic.”

Wait, he was coming to my workstation? Personally?

My mind was suddenly aflutter. What did I say? Did I play it cool? Could I play it cool? Did I clam up like the socially awkward wolf that I was? Try to joke?

AAAAAHHH!

Calm down, girl. It’s just a man. A human man, I chided myself. I had at least twenty minutes to get my shit together before he reached me.

True. But have you also considered: AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!

“There’s a binder at each of your stations with suggestions and directions for your first project. Some are simpler than others, and of course, you’re always welcome to do your own thing after talking it through with me. So, unless anyone has any questions immediately, I’m going to start my rounds.”

A binder! Binders were good. A binder meant I could look at something that wasn’t the giant instructor with forearms so thick and layered with muscle they could probably power a small town with the amount of kinetic energy they generated.

I opened it, flipping through the many pages. Finally, the studious side of my brain took over, and I was able to get lost in the reading.

The binder consisted of several different projects, and each project had a set of pages that detailed the instructions. Although they were all labeled as beginner, some were much more complicated than others, and my mind settled as I figured out what I wanted to tackle first.

Nothing too delicate, but nothing too boring. I wanted to challenge myself, not cruise. So no to the simple wooden box, but also no to the jellybean dispenser. No to the spoon, but also no to the pipe.

Maybe… maybe the mug?

It was a simple design. Nothing that would win any awards, but it had clean lines, and the instructions didn’t look too intimidating.

Okay, so mug it was.

Satisfied, I looked up from the binder. The instructor had made it through about half the workstations. He was taking his time, which told me that he’d soon be taking his time with me.