I’m hesitant to crawl onto Noah’s back, but the thought of rejecting those sweet eyes makes my gut ache, and I still want to know what Noah meant earlier. Why he looked upset to discover me, but never left my side.

Oh, and why he’s a wolf.

Yes, I’ve lost it. With how comforting Noah feels, I’d rather believe that shapeshifting humans exist than say this day is a new version of my recurring dream.

I grip Noah’s silky black fur and scramble onto his wide back with an embarrassing grunt. Noah nudges me the rest of the way with his wet nose bumping my butt. 

But once I’m 10 feet off the ground, I grip his fur. “Oh, my God! This is higher than I thought!”

Noah spins, attempting to look at me on his back, and I burst into laughter. He seems to like this, breaking into a smiling pant. 

Oh, my heart. I want to squeeze him. 

So I do, stretching my tiny arms across only half his back. I can feel his butt wiggling behind me from his happy tail, and I laugh. “For a big, tough wolf, you're actually super adora—” 

I fall silent as Noah’s fur stands on edge, his paws rigid against the forest floor. Listening in, I can hear it too — distant, soft crunching in the leaves. Footsteps. 

Noah’s ribcage expands beneath my legs with a heightened breath. His tension ripples through me, making me quiver.

Without waiting another moment, Noah takes off, forcing me to grab fistfuls of his fur to cling on for dear life. 

With his nose huffing against the forest floor, Noah finds a scent and breaks into an even deeper sprint.

“Noah, where are...?” I trail off, recognizing the mossy landmark tree I always pass when taking the long way home. “Wait, are you taking me home?”

Wind rushes my ears as we fly. I bury my nose into his dense fur to keep my eyes from watering. His thick paws beat the earth, spraying dirt in every direction as we bound through the forest. It feels like I could fall off if I don’t squeeze him with my full body, jostling in this direction and that as leaves blur past my peripheral vision. 

We've traveled at least a mile within minutes with how fast Noah claws across the forest floor. Noah’s slinking figure slows, and I dare to look up. 

My parents’ old cottage rests in our land’s small clearing, freshly trimmed roses lining the pathway to the chipped wooden stairs. Like always, my eyes catch on the half-painted number “1” on the weathered, baby blue siding, the only house Westfield developers had to number for miles.

“No way! You did bring me home!” My laughter makes Noah taller. “You're amazing!”

Noah's pant widens, his tail wagging again as he approaches my house. Circling my front porch with expert weaves through the roses, Noah kneels to the ground, helping me safely step off. 

At least, I try to. I stumble on shaking legs from all the adrenaline, catching myself on poor Noah - his massive snout against my belly. 

Hugging his snout, I’m face to face with him again. The urge gluing me to him bursts inside my chest once more, forcing me to suck in a shaky breath. When I look into his golden eyes, I can't convince myself to stop hoping he might be different from the rest. 

This has to be a dream. All I've felt for years in my real life is hurt or fear.

Wait, what am I saying? He’s a wolf!

As if I’ve tempted fate, I’m crushed to see Noah scurry into the woods the second I’m upright. His black fur blends into the darkness of night, and my heart snaps.

No matter how scared, confused, and exhausted I am, my words come out as a desperate scream. “Wait! Come back!”

I hold my breath, waiting for a response. When Noah peeks from behind a tree, my eyes have to zip down to his human height.

He changed back.

There’s no way this is real life. And if this isn't real, I might as well follow my heart.

Noah fidgets behind the tree, clearly uncomfortable. I can practically see his wolf ears slinked back to his head, but all that’s left of his black fur is his dark, artfully messy hair and scruffy jawline.

But his deep voice surprises me with how delicate it is. “S-sorry, I had to shift, and…” 

When he steps out a bit more, a flash of his bare, golden thigh catches my eye. My heart kicks up for a different reason, and Noah notices, clearing his throat.

“I-I… I accidentally ripped my clothes.”

“Oh! You're not leaving?”

“N-no... Well, unless you want me to.” His heart-crushing puppy dog eyes still appear in human form.

I bite back a smile. Is this the same wolf from earlier that made our attacker crumble into a shivering ball? He’s so shy. He reminds me of my little preschooler students on their first day. And after teaching for three years now, I know well enough that the shy ones always end up being the silliest.

I dart up the porch steps. “Hang on, I’ll find you something to wear.”

Rushing through my front door, my breath shakes with every exhale. None of this feels real, but my body says otherwise — my chest burns from leftover life-threatening stress. A part of me hopes that means this isn't a dream. I want Noah to be real.

Rifling through my drawers for the largest clothing I can find, covering Noah’s bottom half seems trickiest. Poor Noah might have to squeeze in no matter what. Even in his human form, he's twice my size in width and a head taller.

I never let strangers touch my late father’s clothing, but his old gym shorts have the least sentimental value. They don’t even smell like him anymore. I bet Dad wouldn't approve of me lending these to a man I like, though.

I laugh, imagining Dad’s stern worry-face that used to scare everyone but me. “Sorry, Dad.”

Darting back down the hall, a part of me is terrified to open the front door and find Noah gone. If I want to protect my heart, I'll have to accept that possibility. It's true - he could leave, anytime. Of all people, I should understand that.

After taking a deep breath, I swing open the door. 

Noah's head perks up from behind the side of my house, and I try to hide my relief. 

“Here you go.”

Noah takes the clothes with one massive hand. His grip encompasses clothes that took two palms for me to hold. It makes me realize how small I am compared to him, let alone when he unfurls my oversized shirt and it looks like children's clothing.

“U-um, sorry, I can–”

“T-thanks for this,” he says simultaneously. 

We stare in silence. I expect him to return my clothes, but when Noah disappears beyond my cottage’s siding, I don’t know if he understood I was offering to find something else, or if I should speak up a second time.

Words escape me as he sidesteps past the cottage’s cover and I catch an expanded glance at his thigh. No, not his thigh - that’s his ass, Aliya. My heartbeat ticks into the roof of my mouth.

He slips the shorts over one foot, cussing and disappearing behind the cottage. All at once, I realize I’m gawking at this poor stranger changing and I avert my eyes. 

I need to get a hold of myself. Why am I so drawn to him? 

My heart pounds into my ears, unsure if Noah caught me. But stepping into view, Noah gives me a soft smile. Then my eyes catch on his built chest - threatening to burst from my tight shirt.

I gasp. “O-oh, gosh, I'm sorry—” 

“No, it's perfect. Thank you.”

It’s not perfect, and we both know it. But with a soft touch on my back, Noah guides me onto my porch. I follow with more curiosity than concern - I was already hoping he’d join me inside anyway. But when I open my front door, Noah stops at the threshold.

“There’s… Something I didn’t get to say yet.” He won’t meet my eyes, staring at my muddy teaching sneakers as he shuffles before my doorway. “Y-you asked if I was rejecting you?”

“Oh. Y-yes.” My speeding heartbeat threatens to implode.

Noah shakes his head, struggling to steady his breath. “I-I’m not. And I wasn't. I’d never–” Noah swallows hard. “I—I know I’m not good with words, but I have a lot to say, and…”

He’s anxious. I want to comfort him like he comforted me.

Running my fingertips down his arm, I give Noah a reassuring smile. “It's okay, Noah. You're doing great.”

Noah opens his arms for a hug. I’m lightheaded from my anxious heartbeat, but I step closer to his chest anyway. He doesn't waste a single second before embracing me, cuddling his head against mine. 

“Thank you.” Noah gives my neck a soft boop with his nose, and my heart soars. “I’m just worried I’m scaring you more. You haven’t stopped shaking.” 

He’s right — my teeth are chattering with nerves. 

“Maybe we can continue this tomorrow after you’ve rested?” Noah continues. 

He pulls away to give me space, but my heart screams not to let him go, even an inch.

Okay, heart. I think it’s time I listen.

I rush back into his chest, throwing my arms around him. “Please, don’t go. Stay with me tonight.”