Banan liked watching Owen dance. He was short and lean, moving with a grace that few men could pull off as he slowly danced in the light of the bonfire. But somehow Owen did. Banan didn’t know much about the vampire. Owen had only been part of Puck’s Pack for a few months after all, but Banan had been watching him plenty, and that only got easier as St. Patrick’s Day wore on and he kept drinking. He was on his fourth beer when Owen came over to stand next to him, giving him a sure smile that said just how good looking he knew he was.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, werewolf?” Owen teased him.

Banan kept drinking. There was so much that he wanted to say to Owen that he’d been keeping to himself ever since Owen had been let into the pack close to Christmas. But every time he tried to say something to the young vampire, his tongue got all twisted up. Owen was barely over five feet, half Banan’s weight, and absolutely stunning with platinum blond hair and faint freckles covering his shoulders and cheeks. He’d taken his shirt off while he’d been dancing with the others, and Banan wanted nothing more than to bend down and kiss those faint dots across his shoulders.

“Werewolf got your tongue?” Owen continued.

Banan blushed and glanced over at him. Around them, the others kept dancing. One nice night in the middle of March and suddenly they were all out around the bonfire. Werewolves and vampires alike, making friends and strengthening the bonds that Puck had formed when he’d accepted the first vampire into his pack, Armand. Those two made it look so easy to be together.

Owen came closer, brushing his arm against Banan’s. “I see you watching, and I know you can talk. So what gives?”

Banan opened his mouth then quickly closed it again. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t come up with anything. But Owen looked like he expected him to say something, anything, so Banan managed a pathetic little, “Hi.”

“There you go.” When Owen smiled color rose in his cheeks. He must have fed recently. Banan didn’t mind that about the vampires. They survived how they had to, and at least in the pack they only killed criminals who were going to be put to death anyway.

“I’m Owen. I don’t think we’ve officially met yet.” He held out his hand, and it seemed almost comical that he had introduced himself like that considering how much Banan already knew about him.

Owen was barely over twenty, and he’d only been a vampire for a few years. Banan was thirty-five and had always been a werewolf, but he had never been good at talking to cute guys. Every other werewolf he’d ever met had a way with guys. They made it seem so easy, and Banan couldn’t help being jealous of the other members in his pack who were happily in relationships.

“Banan,” he managed to growl out. He hadn’t meant to sound so rough as he took Owen’s hand, his voice had just come out like that. “Sorry.” He dropped Owen’s hand and looked away, feeling embarrassed at his own ineptness when it came to even just talking to another man, especially one he was attracted to.