His shoulders filled the short-sleeved shirt, and although snug on his chest, it fell loosely to his waist. He put his hands in his pockets as he waited for my inspection to finish. Embarrassed, I tore my gaze away, but not before I noted he’d left himself barefoot.

“Brat,” I muttered. Then, I cleared my throat and added, “You’ll do.”

I turned and caught Rachel’s smirk. “Quiet from the peanut gallery.”

Mercifully, the doorbell rang then so she just laughed and rushed to answer it. Their arrival spared me from having to look at Clay again. In a way, I’d forgotten the man under the fur.

I followed Rachel slowly, feeling curiously lost. Clay walked softly behind me.

“Come on in,” Rachel said to Peter. Peter stepped in, and Scott followed inches behind. Peter gave me an apologetic look as he moved aside. Scott’s eyes found mine, and he smiled widely. I flashed a politely cool smile in return.

I could see the moment Scott spotted Clay. His face first fell then firmed in tense appraisal.

“Hi, Peter,” I said. “Nice to see you again, Scott.” His face lit at my statement, and I felt badly that I needed to hurt him in order to end his fixation. “We were going to join you guys, but Clay just got off of work a little while ago and suggested he and I take advantage of the empty house tonight.” My heart skipped a beat or two at my bold words, and I struggled to control the blush that wanted to paint my face. Thankfully, Clay stood behind me so I didn’t need to witness his reaction to my words.

Scott’s face was a different story. I watched it turn red.

“Isn’t Clay your dog?” he asked suspiciously.

“We named the dog after my boyfriend. It’s a bit of a joke. Clay, meet Peter and Scott, Rachel’s friends.” My disassociation of Scott broke him. His shoulders slumped, and the familiar look of shame stole over his face. Why did this happen? I hated it. Pity and remorse swamped me.

Clay lightly set his hand at the small of my back. A casual touch. His palm slowly warmed a large area. Even in man form, he could sense some of my anxiety.

Scott noted Clay’s hand on my back, glanced between us, then turned to his friend.

“Peter, Rachel, I’m sorry to back out on you, too, but I think I’m going to head home. I’ve been fighting a cold all week.” Without waiting for acknowledgment, he turned and left.

Peter, who’d looked apologetically anxious when he entered, watched his friend leave with a concerned frown. Rachel murmured something to him. He nodded and went to the closet to retrieve her jacket. Rachel looked back at me as Peter held out her jacket to assist her.

“Are you sure you want to stay in?”

Rachel accepted Peter’s help with an ease that usually came after being together for years. I doubted they even realized how in tune they were with each other. That often happened when people found their perfect match. Their lives blended in a seamless perfection they simply called love. It was more than that, though. Their deep connection put them in tune with each other’s needs and wants. It kept them open to suggestion and reason so they would always listen to each other. Yep, I’d need to look for a new roommate soon.

“We’re sure,” I said with a smile and waved them out the door. “Don’t come home early.”

When the door closed behind Peter and Rachel, I exhaled slowly, and turned to Clay, breaking our connection. I smiled at him.

“Home free. Thank you, Clay.”

The subtle difference between living with Clay-the-dog and standing in a room alone with Clay-the-man tickled the nerves in my stomach. I refused to show it.

He simply watched me as he placed his now empty hand back into the front pocket of his pants. The air cooled the spot on my back that he’d warmed.

“Um...” I wasn’t sure what to do. I hadn’t thought past getting rid of Scott.

Clay’s calm gaze made the nervous butterflies in my stomach worse. Silly, really, considering he watched me all the time as a dog. I took a breath and tried again.

“Did you want to do something since we’re both dressed up?”

He shrugged.

“You can talk to me, Clay,” I said with a little hope. I really began to wonder if he could speak. When he didn’t respond, I spoke again. “Okay, do you want to go out or stay in?”

He moved to the couch and sat in the middle, his choice clear. Stay in tonight.

I hesitated. The chair, set at an odd angle to the TV, gave you a sore neck if you tried to watch a movie from there. That meant I’d need to sit next to him to watch a movie. But I felt so exposed in a skirt and sleeveless shirt. I wasn’t sure if I could sit next to him for a full movie.

While I debated my options, he watched me closely.

“I’m going to go change,” I stammered. “I’ll be right back.”

I turned and made it one step before the back of my shirt snagged on something. Surprised, I looked over my shoulder and found Clay standing right behind me. He held a fold of my shirt between his thumb and forefinger. I could see the glint of his brown eyes behind the still damp strands of his hair. He tilted his head back toward the couch and gave a slight tug on my shirt. My stomach dropped, and I couldn’t tell if it was in a good way or a bad one.

When I hesitated, he gave another tug. I surrendered, turned back, and sat on the couch.

He padded over to the movies, made a selection I couldn’t see, and crouched to start it. It amazed me that he knew how to do that. Then again, he watched everything Rachel and I did. I wondered if anything escaped his notice.

He pressed play, stood, and walked toward me with fluid strides. I felt graceless in comparison. He settled next to me and watched the previews. I tried to focus on them, too, but couldn’t. Instead, I noticed our bare feet, the scratch on the wall next to the TV, his leg lightly pressed against mine, the sound of the water as it slowly dripped from the showerhead in the bathroom, his hands loosely resting on his lap. The long list of unimportant details would not let my mind settle.

It was midway through the movie when my mind calmed enough to notice we watched an action-comedy I’d wanted to see. I’d just mentioned it to Rachel this past week. She must have gotten it after that.

Slowly, I began to relax and enjoy the movie. I even laughed aloud at one point. Clay’s echoing chuckle startled me, but in a good way. So, he could do more than growl as a dog. His deep laugh sounded pleasant.

When the movie ended, I stood and went to put it away. It was still early, just about six.

“Do you want to watch another one?” I asked as I knelt to look at the movie selection. “I can throw in a pizza for us.”

When I heard nothing, which wasn’t unusual, I turned and saw a pile of folded clothes on the couch. But no Clay.

“Clay?”

I went in search of him, but he wasn’t in the house. In the living room, I glanced at the pile of clothes again. He had been so quiet I hadn’t heard a thing.

It took me a moment to think about using my second sight. Because of school and Clay’s presence at home, I’d fallen into patterns where I didn’t use it often. I felt safe enough that I didn’t need to use it. Still, I checked. He wasn’t anywhere in the immediate area, but I wasn’t too worried about it. He did occasionally leave my side, but he never stayed away for very long.

With a smile, I picked up his clothes and headed to my room. Good thing I took forever to pick a movie.

Since I had nothing else to do, I decided to watch the movie I had spotted just before Clay disappeared. I changed into some sweats and a tank top then scrounged around in the kitchen and found what I needed to make a big bowl of buttered popcorn.

Popcorn in hand, I headed for the TV. When I walked into the living room, Clay once again lay on the couch. I smiled at his familiar furry presence.

“There you are. Want some popcorn?”