Okay, okay. She rarely had control. She knew that, but this . . . this was outrageous!

How did she let one wolfdog talk her into this?

“Blayne . . . I really don’t know about this.”

“You’ll be great! Won’t she, Gwen?”

The gold-eyed feline hybrid finished tying up her skates before looking over at Cherise. “She looks completely freaked out, Blayne.”

“She’s not. Are you, Cherise?”

“Well—”

“See? Besides. This is just tryouts.”

“You see, Blayne,” Cherise tried again, “I can’t really do this. I shouldn’t. Because of my hands.”

Gwen stood up, studied Cherise’s hands. “What’s wrong with them?”

“Nothing. That’s the point. I need to ensure nothing’s wrong with them. They’re my livelihood.”

“Are you a surgeon?”

“No. Cellist.”

The feline stared at her as only a feline could. “Oh. Is that really a job someone has . . . in the world?”

“Gwen!” Blayne snapped.

“What? It was just a question.”

“Rude!” Blayne took hold of Gwen’s arm and lifted it. “See Gwen’s hands, Cherise? Her nails, specifically.”

How could Cherise miss them? They were unreasonably long, painted red and black with sparkling rhinestones on the tips. Like something out of one of Cherise’s nightmares.

“If she can keep her nails this long,” Blayne reasoned, “you can keep your hands safe!”

That didn’t seem like very thought-out reasoning, but before Cherise could debate the point, a hand tugged her hair. Startled, she yipped and spun, ready to make a run for it if necessary.

“What are you doing?” her sister’s best friend blandly asked.

“What are you doing here?” Cherise shot back at Livy Kowalski.

“Coop sent me. He would have come himself to get you but some very large Neanderthal pointed at a giant Post-it note and said it was his practice time.”

Blayne stomped her skate-covered foot. “He’s not a Neanderthal! He’s misunderstood!”

Livy, never comfortable with the overly emotional, eyed Blayne once before focusing back on Cherise.

“Why did you bring Freddy?” Cherise asked Livy. The boy should be at home, getting ready for dinner. Not hanging out on the streets of New York. Toni wouldn’t like that at all.

“I told Toni I’d keep an eye on him. This is me keeping an eye.”

Cherise’s brother held Livy’s hand, his eyes wide as he stared up at all the females of many breeds and species, even hybrids. As soon as they saw little Freddy, the women surrounded him, oohing and aaawwwing over him. He didn’tseem to mind. Thankfully, he appeared to take more after Cooper than Cherise, loving the attention but not needing to drown in it like Delilah, nor simply expecting it like Oriana and Kyle.

“Can I hold him?” a She-lion asked.

Livy frowned at the feline. “He’s not a puppy, dude.”

The cat sneered and Cherise quickly asked her brother, “Do you mind, Freddy?”

His answer was to raise his arms and the She-lion happily lifted him up, turning around to show him off to the other females. “Isn’t he flippin’ adorable!”

Livy yawned and motioned to Cherise. “So . . . what are you doing here?”

“It was me,” Blayne explained, and Livy’s cold, black eyes locked on the hybrid.

“You?”

“Yeah. I thought it would be great for Cherise to get out of the house. The whole time Bo and I have been at the house, she never seems to go out.”

“Do you want to get out?” Livy asked Cherise.

“Not really.”

“But you haven’t tried yet!”

Livy folded her arms over her chest and looked over at Gwen. “Do you guys have a quota? A certain number of people you have to bring to tryouts?”

“Of course not!” Blayne exclaimed.

“Yep,” Gwen replied. “It’s not required by the team or anything but Blayne insists on having her own quota.”

Blayne glared at her friend. “Snitch.”

“That’s what I thought.” Livy motioned to Cherise. “Do you want to stay or go?”

“I thought you were coming to get me.”

“What am I?” Livy asked. “Your mother?” She thought a moment, then changed it to, “Toni?”

“It’s just us,” Blayne told them. “Just the team and our coach. This isn’t a bout. Just a chance for you to get out on skates and see if you like it or not. No pressure.”

“Once you do what she says anyway.”

“Shut up, Gwen,” Blayne snapped before she smiled again at Cherise. “It’ll be fun! I promise!”

“Well . . .” Cherise looked around, and all the females stared at her. “I am already in skates.”

“Yes!” Blayne cheered. “You won’t regret it!” She hugged Cherise, which Cherise didn’t like because she didn’t really like to be touched.

Gwen rolled around Livy, sniffing her.

“If I feel that nose on me again, feline,” Livy dryly warned, “I’ll start removing pieces of you.”

“What are you?”

“Death.”

“Olivia!” Cherise chastised.

“She asked.”