Free Gluten-Free Gamma by Angelique Voisen Page B

finally
found friends he could genuinely talk to, who wouldn’t laugh about him being
unable to eat anything with gluten. Jack understood his picky eating habits, as
Derrick was a diabetic who refused to eat meat, while Rick was a vegan.
    “Those two aren’t interested in
civilized dates. All they’re interested in is shacking up,” Jack said with
obvious disgust. “Thanks to the horny pair, Derrick and I aren’t allowed in New
Haven’s only bowling alley now, so, no, thank you.”
    “You’re out of luck, then.”
    “Jack, hate to interrupt your
chitchat, but aren’t you done paying for your pastries?” Derrick asked with a
frown on his face. When the powerful Beta first came to the pack, he wasn’t all
made of muscle. He was made of flab, like Al, but hell, did he work hard to get
in shape.
    Contrary to popular belief and the
media, werewolves didn’t automatically lose all their body fat in exchange for
muscles. They weren’t immune to diseases and sicknesses either, so Al wished he
had Derrick’s determination.
    If he worked hard at shaping his
body, would Terrence finally notice him? Even if he weren’t a fatty, Al doubted
he could win a wolf like Terrence with his dull and ordinary looks. He could
hope his personality would work for him, but what use was personality when
Terrence had his pick of other wolves in the pack? Al had a feeling Terrence
had fucked most of the unmated wolves in the pack—except Al. He wasn’t sure if
should feel special or insulted.
    Al glumly counted Jack’s purchases
and handed him the bag.
    “Why? Can’t stand the smell of baked
goods you can’t eat?” Jack threw back at Derrick, a mischievous look on his
face. Derrick groaned, but Jack only happily walked over to him and curled his
arm over his. “Grumpy wolf, want me to make you something when we get home?”
    Cheeks slightly pink, Derrick
ignored him and nodded to Al and Terrence. “Terrence. Al.”
    Al gave a friendly wave. He liked
that Derrick always acknowledged everyone, even the weaker wolves in the pack.
Al wasn’t so sure about Terrence, but then again, Terrence seldom acknowledged
anyone.
    “It isn’t true, you know.”
    Al nearly jerked at the unfamiliar
voice. Holy shit, did Terrence just talk
to me? He didn’t think he’d ever exchanged one entire sentence with
Terrence. Any string of words beyond “good day,” “pleasant weather,” or “any
loafs left” was a victory in Al’s estimation. He wanted, yearned, and craved
for the other wolf for years, so he had to get his head screwed on tight.
    “W-what?” Al asked, cursing his nervous stutter.
    Terrence didn’t speak for a few
seconds, and it made Al think he imagined the acknowledgment in the first
place. Terrence’s penetrating and unnerving gaze was real though. Those eyes
didn’t just rake him over. They seemed intent on crawling underneath his skin
and unearthing his soul.
    He finally spoke. “I see you, Alvin
Heinz. You’re far from ordinary, and I don’t mind if you’re a little
comfortably shaped.”
    “What?” Al was definitely
daydreaming, because he was sure Terrence didn’t just call him by name. How
could he? Al always stayed in the background during meetings. The pack knew him
as “the guy who brought leftover bread,” but he didn’t really think any of them
bothered asking his name. Even Carlos, the Alpha, called him “the bread man.”
    Just to make certain he was indeed
dreaming, he reached toward Terrence and pinched his cheek. Al felt
weather-roughened skin and a slight stubble under the
pads of his fingers and swallowed nervously. Terrence’s scent swept over him,
stronger than ever.
    “What are you doing?”
    Al jerked his hand back at the
sudden defensive and testy voice. “Nothing. I’m
sorry,” he said quickly, and then cursed silently at himself again. Apologizing
to someone over something that wasn’t his fault wasn’t him. “Actually, I’m not
sorry at all.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “You come