JUNE 2022 UPDATE: Go read "Lucy", a spinoff of the Masked SheWolf trilogy, now updating on Wattpad, and its "Behind the Scenes" companion book that includes character profiles and a complete recap of the trilogy, as told by the characters in interview format.
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There is a definite crush situation going on. I can't believe I didn't notice it before. All the signs are there; she tries to make him happy, she perks up when we talk about him, and when they're alone together -which Cade and I have snuck down to see. She loves having his attention and listens to every word he says like he's sprouting the secrets of the universe. There is no denying that Dylan has a crush on Logan.
When the guys are out the door and out of the driveway, I join her on the couch. The mischievous smile can't be contained from my face. This is either going to be really fun or really bad for me, but either way, I'm going to tease her endlessly about this until she admits it.
Dylan notices my expression and frowns suspiciously. "What?" she demands.
"You like Logan," I state.
"'Course I do," she confirms. That was easy. "He's a great alpha and a good friend."
I can't say that doesn't surprise me. This is really the last answer I would have expected. I didn't think she would misunderstand me.
The laughter erupts without warning, and I shake my head in disbelief. "No," I say, drawing on the 'o' sound. "I mean you likelike him. You have a crush on him."
Dylan's eyes practically bulge out of their sockets, and her eyebrows almost fly up to the top of her forehead.
"What?!" she chokes out.
Her reaction just confirms it even more.
"You totally do!" I insist.
She gives me a flat look. "Sadie, you're delusional."
"That's what you said when I found out you're a girl," I point out in a sing-song voice.
She slaps her hand over my mouth and frantically shushes me. "Keep your voice down when you say stuff like that! Honestly Sadie, we're in a house full of werewolves, remember?"
She is much too paranoid. It's to be expected, of course, because she has been drilled to fear everything her whole life. But the Silver Moon Pack is probably one of the few who would protect her. I can't force her to tell them, but I'm trying to give her hints so that she could think of it on her own.
I have to forcibly remove her hand. "Oh relax, no one's going to hear," I assure her. "It's nine thirty on a Sunday morning... most are still in bed and anyone who's awake is out."
"You don't know that... somebody could still hear us," she hisses.
"Yes I do know. I know the house's schedule, remember?"
"Oh, yeah, like everyone always sticks to a schedule."
I ignore her objections and grin. "Dylan and Logan, sitting in a tree," I sing with a low voice.
She covers my mouth again, putting more force behind it this time. I can't help being excited. This is probably her first crush, and it's making me so excited. I wonder what he would think if he knew she's a girl. I wonder what she would even look like.
"Sadie, I do not have a crush on Logan," Dylan whispers slowly, trying to get the message across.
She is definitely in denial. But two can play at this stubbornness game. Since my speech ability is blocked, I have to bob my head up and down in rebuttal.
Frustrated, Dylan sighs heavily. "Okay, what's it going to take for you to drop this?"
A plan immediately begins to form in my head. I realize it's probably a bad idea to force Dylan to accept the fact that she's a girl, but if she's ever going to be truly okay with who she is, she needs a little encouragement.
Dylan pulls her hand back when she feels my lips turning up into a smile. "Let me give you a makeover," I request as kindly as I can.
She blinks, completely lost, "What?"
"I just want to see what you look like in girl clothes," I use as an excuse.
She glares at me in response. Seconds later, I realize what she must have thought I meant, so I raise my hands up and add, "Just clothes, I swear... no shaving or plucking or makeup or anything. I can use my imagination for that."
"No," is her immediate response.
I pout. "Why not?"
She seems to be starting to lose patience, because she brings her hand to cover her face and puts two fingers on the bridge of her nose.
"Sadie," she says calmly, "Over a month ago, I got in trouble for wearing a bra in the house and taking a picture in it."
I knew she was going to use this line of reasoning, and I know exactly how to counter it. "But your brothers are by now either gone to work or out with friends, and your parents have that brunch with mine in half an hour," I point out. "The house will be empty, and we can take precautions so that no one sees us from outside."
That's when she starts to hesitate, and I take advantage of the opportunity.
"Five minutes," I beg. "That's all I'm asking for. Five minutes of you in clothes you were meant to wear, and then I'll help you burn the evidence myself."
There is a part of me that suspects Dylan is only suppressing who she is out of fear and habit. But I think she actually longs for the freedom to be herself. I am giving her an opportunity to do that without getting caught or being in trouble with her parents for it.
"Fine, but just five minutes, and we have to be sure no one can see or hear us," she finally agrees in a hushed tone.
Beyond pleased, I squeal and throw my arms around her neck. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I chant. "Wait, you do have girl clothes, right?"
Dylan considers this for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I have something that might work," she says.
I can feel a nervous but suppressed excitement radiating off of her, and I'm glad that I was right. She will thank me for this someday in the future.
The time it takes us to walk to Dylan's place from the compound is enough for her family to have vacated the house. Dylan rushes us into her room, locks the front door, closes every window and curtain on the second floor and starts taking out the clothing items she must have been talking about.
"Just remember that the shirt isn't mine, but the pants are, so there's no way they're going to match," she tells me.
It's cute that she gets so self-conscious.
"It's fine Dyl, just put them on. I won't judge you on your wardrobe choice," I tease.
Dylan may have let the fact that I saw her naked in the forest a couple weeks ago slide. Although I insist that it is okay for her to change in front of me, she is adamant that she won't strip for me or anyone ever again. I have to relent.
She takes way longer than she should have in there, and I start to get restless after a while.
"Come on! You've been in there for over twenty minutes!" I complain. "I'm beginning to think you drowned in the sink."
Finally, after taking her sweet time, Dylan unlocks the door and steps out of the bathroom. She stands in front of me while I examine her appearance. She doesn't have her usual bandage wrappings on, so her feminine curves are obvious for anyone looking. The mismatched colors of her purple top and grey pants look oddly cute together.
Her hair reaches just the middle of her forehead from the front and is only an inch and a half long. It is a mess. A cute mess, but it's still in need of a comb. Her eyebrows, though separated, could use a bit of a touch-up. But regardless of all of that, she is still very pretty. I just wish she would see that herself.
"Oh yeah, with a little work, definitely hot," I reaffirm my previous assessment.
"Well too bad this is the best you're going to get," she replies sarcastically. "There's no way I'm ever going to have the luxury of doing more than that. Now are we done? Can I change back?"
Pleased I finally got her around to doing this, I smile and nod. "Yes, you can change back now. Thank you."
"You're welcome," she mutters.
I hear a rattling sound coming from downstairs. Dylan and I exchange a look, realizing at the same time what the sound is; keys going into the lock. I am suddenly very frightened and very annoyed at myself. But I'm not nearly as scared as Dylan, who rushes into the bathroom and locks the door.