True North: MM Shifter Romance by Corey Kerr

Author:Corey Kerr [Kerr, Corey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-01-09T16:00:00+00:00

Sixteen

As the day of the shifter cookout approached, Misha grew more and more horrified that he had agreed to attend. Worse, JT had been there to hear him say he would go, which meant there would be absolutely no wriggling his way out of it. Maybe he could pretend he’d gotten food poisoning, only he and JT ate the same diet, so it wouldn’t make sense for Misha to get food poisoning if JT wasn’t also sick. Maybe he could blame it on some bad garbage, only then he’d have to own up to eating garbage, and he could all too clearly imagine JT’s disappointed-slash-disgusted expression. There was no helping it: he would have to go.

“What did they want you to bring?” JT asked him, two days after The Porn Incident, which was how Misha had been thinking of it, capital letters and all. JT was sitting at the kitchen table working on his weekly grocery list, and Misha was ostensibly helping by looking to see what they had in the cupboard but was in reality mostly eating blackberries at the sink.

“…Bring?” Misha said, through a mouthful of blackberries.

“Yeah, you know, like are you supposed to bring pop or whatever,” JT said, then looked up from his list and squinted at Misha. “Is that not a thing in Russia? Most cookouts here are potlucks.”

“Pot luck,” Misha repeated uncertainly.

“Sorry. A potluck is when everyone who goes brings food or a drink. I don’t know how the shifters run things, though.”

“They don’t say,” Misha said. He was pretty sure nobody had said anything about this, but it was very possible he just hadn’t understood. Shit.

JT was still watching him. “Why don’t I pick up some pop at the store just in case. Or you could come with me.”

“Sveta today,” Misha said, grateful to have an excuse JT would accept. JT was both stubborn and persuasive, and Misha could see why he was his team’s captain: he got things done.

The soda rode in the back seat of JT’s truck on Sunday afternoon as they drove into town. Misha had no idea where they were going; JT had learned the location of the cookout through some possibly nefarious means. Instead of turning off to head downtown, he continued east on the same road they’d come in on, then cut north into a subdivision of modest but well-kept homes. The weather was sunny and hotter than usual, and a sweat drop trickled down Misha’s lower back as JT slowed down and started peering at house numbers.

Misha could tell which house it was from the number of cars parked out front: a one-story brick house with a large tree in the yard shading tidy planter beds. JT had to pass the house and go farther down the road before he could find a spot to park.

“Good turnout,” JT said approvingly.

“Ugh,” Misha said, which made JT laugh.

JT wouldn’t go in the back yard with him. “Sorry, buddy. Shifters only. I’m going to camp out here.” He pointed to a swing hanging on the front porch.

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