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his hand to stop whatever Lucas was going to say and signaled to a passing waitress for another drink.
    “Not gonna talk about it,” Dylan murmured. There was nothing to say. He was having an off week. It would be over soon. Avery would disappear from his life again, and things would go back to normal. Like always. Until the little bastard popped up again to screw with Dylan’s head.
    “Whatever, man.” Lucas sighed. “You may act like that prickly bastard doesn’t ruffle your fur, but you’re the only person you’re fooling, and I’m not convinced you don’t actually get why.”
    “Oh, fuck you, Luc. My job— our job—isn’t good enough for the high and mighty asshole. He thinks fate screwed up giving him someone so far beneath his social level. I don’t care what he wants.” Dylan had worked damn hard to get where he was.
    His shop— Green’s Customs and Restorations —was one of the best known in the Portland area for custom motorcycle design and repair. It was his pride and joy. He’d built his business from the ground up with the help and hard work of his friends and pack. He wouldn’t let anyone, mate or not, tell him it wasn’t good enough.
    With a dramatic roll of his eyes, Lucas said, “And you’ve never lost your shit and said something you didn’t mean? For Christ’s sake, D, you were the one teasing him about being a hedgehog in the first place.”
    “That’s just it. I was teasing.”
    “Did he know that? Look, man, I love you like a brother, but you can be pretty intense sometimes, and the kid didn’t even know you back then. How can you blame him for overreacting?”
    “How do you know that’s all it was?”
    “How do you know it wasn’t?” The accusation in Lucas’s tone rang clear, and Dylan hated it. As their voices rose, the tables around them quieted down, making Lucas and Dylan the center of attention.
    Lucas was one of those wolves who trusted in fate and believed that finding his mate would be finding his other half, the completion of his soul. And as nice as it sounded, as loud as Dylan’s wolf screamed that Avery was his other half—his meaning—he’d seen the downside to falling into that trap. To Dylan, other half or not, it was a trap. He’d rather be half a miserable wolf than part of a whole disaster.
    Noticing the spectacle they were becoming, Dylan leaned in. “I see what you’re trying to do. I get it. But if things started out on such a bad note, is there really any hope of getting better? Look at Mom and Dad.”
    “Yeah, you do that. Look at your mom and dad. Do you intend on being an unhappy bastard for the rest of your life because of one misunderstanding?”
    “I didn’t misunderstand anything.”
    “No?” Lucas swept him with an assessing look. “Well, maybe he did. Did you ever think of that? How are you ever going to know if you don’t talk about it?”
    Dylan turned his attention back to Kirk and Sawyer’s game. Lucas had given him a lot to think about, because no matter how much he tried to deny it, something told Dylan he could be right. He knew his tendency to overreact was legendary, and the more he observed of Avery, he thought maybe, just maybe….
    But where would he and Avery go from this point? And how would they get there?
    At his side, Dylan felt more than heard Lucas’s exasperation. Then loud jeers and cackles from a table behind them distracted him and amped up his annoyance, though he tried not to pay them too much attention. Wolfhound catered to all sorts, even some of the less savory variety. As one of the strongest wolves in the pack, Dylan could take care of himself, but he didn’t see the need in drawing unnecessary attention.
    A high-pitched wheezy snort that would’ve made a hog proud came from a table nearby. Their noise level grated enough that Dylan struggled to block it out. Which was why he almost missed the gasping: “The little bitch’ll look like a wet rat when they finish de-quilling him.”
    Spines