“You are so sweet, Fen.” Summer shoved her chair back and circled the tiny table to hug him from the side.
His eyes followed her until she came before him. Realizing what she had gotten up for he moved his arm and placed it about her, standing when she stood, as a proper gentleman should—as he had been told in his childhood. “Not half as much as you, kind Summer.”
Summer let herself have a little time to revel in the hug. Human contact had become so rare since she’d moved to New York. She pressed her cheek against Fenrir’s strong shoulder and squeezed tight. “If you keep flattering me like this, I might just keep you here.” It was supposed to be a joke, but held more truth than she really meant to admit.
A chuckle escaped him. “Yes and you would find yourself with a giant, destructive wolf on your hands if I remain here too long.” He was joking as well, though at the end it fell rather flat. Fenrir hefted a sigh, adjusting how he sat just slightly.
“Why so destructive, Fen?” Reluctantly, she let go, smoothing her hands down the front of her jeans and ignoring the yammer of hormones in the back of her mind. “I mean, you’re … I don’t even know. Is it okay for me to ask about the chain?” She tipped her head to the side, looking concerned.