“What? That’s one of the nicknames my parents have been calling me since I was a baby. It’s not even the worst one… Don’t you have any embarrassing pet names from when you were little?” Leaning away from his head that was perched on my shoulder, I surveyed his amused expression as I spoke. 

I poked the dimple that had formed in his cheek. He whipped his head toward me and caught the tip of my finger between his teeth. The sensation of the soft warmth of his lips and the gentle pressure of his teeth lingered even after I snatched my hand away in surprise. Mischief danced in his eyes, and he bit his bottom lip as he savored my reaction. The closeness of our faces reminded me of the kiss he had gleefully avoided as he answered my mother’s phone call.

“Uh, I’m pretty sure my only nicknames were Theo and my middle name, Rune. Father and I were never very close, so he’s always called me Theory. As for my mom… Ah, I guess she sometimes calls me Cubbie.” As he replied, Theory caught my hand and inspected the finger he had nibbled on. Seeing the faint indent left behind, he rubbed it with his thumb before uncurling my other fingers and measuring my hand against his. The bottom of our palms aligned, showcasing his long fingers and large, calloused hand, which dwarfed my soft, tan hand.

“Cubbie… That’s cute… Like a bear cub?” I pondered aloud, my eyes remaining fixed on our hands.

“Yup. As far as embarrassing nicknames go, it’s not that bad. You said Juni Bug wasn’t your worst nickname. What was?” Theory smoothly intertwined our fingers and turned to study my face. 

“Sigh… It was…” I avoided his gaze, squeezing my eyes shut before hesitantly uttering, “Booty.”

 As silence stretched and hung thickly beyond my closed eyelids, I felt my cheeks flush. I couldn’t bring myself to see his reaction. I had expected him to laugh, but now that he hadn’t, my embarrassment only grew. My body temperature spiked, and everywhere we touched felt scalding hot. How long was he planning to leave me stewing in this mortification?

“Why are you so embarrassed? I can guess why that was your nickname, and technically, I think it’s something to be proud of. I’m kind of an ass guy myself.” Theory teased.

I peeked at him, my shyness giving way to the satisfaction I received from his comment. He always seemed delighted while watching me get all flustered. Each time, I felt silly for worrying so much, but I couldn’t fully contain the giddy nervousness he stirred within me. Every time he smiled, my mind was thrown into disarray. It was hard to pinpoint precisely which emotions his smile evoked. 

It was a mixture of attraction, irritation, curiosity, and uncertainty. I couldn’t figure out exactly what I wanted from him. I wanted to shy away from his gaze and bask in it at the same time. His touch seared my flesh, but I welcomed every caress. He overwhelmed each of my senses, holding me as a willing captive. Whatever was happening between us felt dangerous and inevitable.

“You make me nervous…” I admitted, my eyes shifting back to our joined hands.

Theory slipped his fingers from mine before smoothly grasping my hand from below and pulling it toward him. His lips brushed my knuckles as he asked, “In a good way?”

Electric shivers pulsated from the brief trail his lips left on my hand, spreading throughout my body in an instant. Warning bells rang in my head as I gazed upon this dangerously handsome man who practically had me wrapped around his finger in less than 24 hours after we’d met. In all my life, I had never met someone who riled me up like this. It felt both exciting and terrifying. I whispered, “Maybe… I’m not sure yet.”

His answering chuckle reverberated against my shoulder and back as he released my hand, “Let me know when you figure it out.”

I took that as my cue to untangle myself from Theory, twisting out of his embrace in an attempt to regain my composure. Since we’d met, it was as if I had been in the palm of his hand. More troubling than that, I had liked it a bit too much. If this, whatever it was, was going to continue, I didn’t want to be the only one on edge. I was determined to rattle that smug and impish attitude of his… Somehow.

Crawling away from him, I made my way to the mattress’s ledge. Even though I was facing away from Theory, I could feel him watching me. I swung my legs over the side of the bed before daring a glance back at him. His piercing blue-gray eyes trailed me as he sported a roguish grin. I turned away, pushing myself off the bed and walking toward the bathroom. As I passed the sitting area, I released my hair from its bun and shook out my curls. I paused in front of the bathroom door, pushing my hair back from my face as I shot him a look, “Can you ask my mom to send over my room number?”

“Running away already, sweetheart?” Theory joked.

“If I did run, would you chase me?” I threw back playfully.

“Hmm… Maybe,” His smile was devilishly devastating. 

Theory held his phone and tapped away at the screen. I ducked into the bathroom. Viewing my reflection in the mirror, I was glad to see that I looked presentable. We hadn’t slept very long, and I should have felt hungover, but I felt surprisingly refreshed. I splashed water on my face and gathered my things as I headed back into the room. 

As I laid my folded clothes on the couch, Theory came up behind me. My skin prickled in anticipation. He lightly seized my hips, drawing me to him, and propping his head on my shoulder. Butterflies bloomed within my stomach at the gesture. His deceptively innocent expression did nothing to dissuade me from my belief that he knew what he was doing. He shifted, wrapping an arm across my shoulders and setting his chin on top of my head. With his other hand, he showed me the messages my mom sent.

“I got your room number. Want me to walk you?” Theory ducked his head as he asked, his low voice tickling my ear.

“Ah…” I flinched away from the overwhelming sensation that nearly made my knees buckle. “Yeah.”

“Tsk, tsk. You should ask me nicely, sweetheart.” His voice rumbled lowly next to my ear, on purpose this time.

“P-Please…” I squirmed. 

“Good girl,” Theory smirked as he released me. My heart fluttered as he praised me. How was I ever supposed to gain the upper hand? While playing along obediently wasn’t the worst, the defiant part of me longed to conquer him.

“Do you have any sweatpants with drawstrings that I can borrow?” I turned to look up at him.

“I mean, yeah, but won’t they be too long?” He eyed my bare legs inquisitively.

“I can roll them if I have to. Plus, I only need to wear them until we get to my room.” I shrugged. Theory stepped into the closet and returned with a pair of sweatpants. I slipped them on, tightening the drawstring and rolling them at the ankles to adjust the length. His oversized clothes probably did nothing for my figure, but they were far more comfortable than my dress. 

As we finished preparing to leave, Theory insisted on carrying my things. He led me through the long, winding hallways and down a set of stairs. We stopped in front of the room number that my mother had provided. It was only a short trip from Theory’s own room. I began to open the door before spinning around.

“Give me your phone,” I demanded, holding out my open hand as I lingered in the doorway to my suite.

“Why?” Theory balked. He tilted his head in confusion at the sudden request.

“If you want your clothes back, you should at least have my number saved,” I explained while motioning impatiently for him to hand his phone over. He shuffled my clothes into his other arm and dug his phone from his pocket. After swiping to unlock it, he placed it in my outstretched hand. I tapped out my number and handed it back, “I’ll let you decide what to save my contact as.”

“I’ve got the perfect contact name picked out for you,” Theory’s thumb flew over his screen. A triumphant smile transformed his face seconds before he raised his phone in front of my face to showcase his work. One word shone boldly above my phone number…

“Needy?” I raised an eyebrow in annoyance. 

“Yeah, I think it suits you pretty well.” He smirked as he re-examined his handiwork. 

“Call me so I can save yours, too,” I swept into my suite in search of my phone, leaving my door open behind me. I followed the sound of my ringtone to locate it. His number flashed across my screen before I accepted the call. Noting that Theory remained in the hallway, I beckoned him inside over the phone, “You coming?”

Theory huffed a laugh before hanging up, entering my room, and shutting the door behind him. I quickly typed out the contact name I’d chosen for him in retaliation. ‘JERK’. A smug smile pulled on my lips as I made my way toward him, his contact information on display. 

“You wound me, Needy.” Plopping my stuff on the couch, Theory mockingly clutched at his heart.

“As if calling me ‘Needy’ isn’t an insult?” I jokingly pouted while leaning against a nearby wall and pocketing my phone.

“You’ve got something confused, sweetheart.” He closed in on me with just a few strides. A moment later, he braced a hand on the wall beside my head. His eyes bore into mine from above as he continued, “I think it’s cute when you act all needy.”

“Is that so?” I tried to ignore my pounding heart, crossing my arms in mock protest, while I peered up at him through lowered lashes. 

“This is what I mean. You are adorable.” Theory twirled a lock of my curls with his free hand. Those stormy eyes seemed to devour me. Our proximity was torturous. His presence enveloped me, but yet again, he chose not to close the gap. This level of anticipation teetered between agony and pleasure.

“And you are a jerk,” I proclaimed. Frustration and longing coiled within me. Why was he toying with me like this? It wasn't easy to fathom the meaning behind his words and actions. On one hand, he appeared to be attracted to me. On the other hand, it felt like he purposefully erected walls between us. It felt like he was dangling a treat in front of me, only to reel it away each time I reached for it.

“Hah, I am, aren’t I? Sorry, I can’t help myself.” Theory’s smile deepened, but he backed away with his hands raised placatingly. After one last lingering glance, he turned and started for the door.

“Are you leaving?” I couldn’t hide the disappointment in my voice.

“Don’t worry, Needy. We’ll see each other again soon enough.” With that, he disappeared down the hall. A hollow ache filled me in Theory’s absence. He was a jerk and an unsufferable tease, but I liked him anyway. 

It felt like it had been ages since I’d had a moment to myself. Burrowing in bed with my mind recalling the past few days, I found myself wondering about the nature of bears. It was well known that a shifter’s personality and mannerisms were influenced by the nature of the animal they transformed into. When my curiosity could no longer be sated by the vague guesses that came to mind, my phone provided me with a method to find the answers I sought. After searching for the characteristics of Grizzlies and bears, they were described as assertive, curious, intelligent, nurturing, playful, protective, resourceful, and solitary. Seeing the descriptor of ‘playful,’ another curiosity piqued my interest. I searched ‘do bears tease?’

If so, then Theory’s insufferable teasing of me would make sense. And sure enough, they did. I paused over a section of the results that mentioned courtship: ‘Bears may sniff, circle, and engage in playful interactions to determine compatibility.’ The possibility of Theory courting me left me squealing and kicking my feet beneath my blanket. Once the giddiness settled, I pondered his intentions.

Thinking back to how his father had brought up the possibility of Theory getting me pregnant, I wondered what mating was typically like for bears. I looked up ‘bear mating,’ and the descriptions dampened my earlier excitement. Male bears were described as promiscuous, with a polygamous mating system. Unsure of how much of the information correlated between bears and werebears, I began to overanalyze all that had occurred between us.

I felt like we got along great, and there was definitely chemistry on my end. But then again, he could be an incredibly smooth and hopeless flirt. His enjoying the sight of me squirming and flustered didn’t necessarily mean he saw me romantically… He expertly toed the line between platonic and romantic, so it was hard to pinpoint his angle. Plus, he hardly ever seemed rattled by anything I did, only amused or concerned. I put my phone away and sighed.