Fan Service

Chapter 24

24

The simple act of packing for LA triggered all of Devin’s insecurities.

His acting career was over.

He had nothing else of value to contribute.

Pretty soon he’d once again find himself all alone in a big empty house without even a cat to eat his face after he died.

Except this time, he had a secret weapon.

Somewhere between ice baths and dunk tanks (was it kinda strange that he had spent so much of this trip wet and in his underwear?), Alex had become Devin’s emotional support human. He’d never had one of those before. Someone he could tell about his fears and regrets, his big goofy dreams.

She didn’t find his werewolf stuff gross or terrifying. In fact, Devin was beginning to suspect she might be sort of into it.

They had common interests and made each other laugh. Mostly on purpose.

Even her “caring about stuff other than yourself” thing had started rubbing off on him. He’d accidentally stayed up all night reading those wolf books from Isaac. Even the super-dry one translated from German. Isaac’s annotations ran across most of the pages, the ink fading in certain volumes from black to time-weathered gray.

Devin didn’t read much, as a rule, beyond scripts and online sports coverage. When he was growing up, books had always felt like busywork on top of his real job. His mom tutoring him on set. Having to highlight stuff and make flash cards while his adult costars smiled at him indulgently over their craft service salads.

But he had a real stake in wolves now, for obvious reasons. It was fucked up that people had hunted and trapped them almost to the point of extinction as part of a “government-sanctioned extermination plan to domesticate the landscape and expand grazing ranges” (Isaac’s words, but Devin got the gist).

Devin got so worked up reading last night that he’d howled and woken his neighbors in the nearby rooms. Hotel staff called to scold him.

How did Alex handle caring about so much all the time? It was exhausting.

He needed to shift back into focus mode. To channel Colby. If he had any chance of turning around his reputation and convincing Brian Dempsey that a reboot was not only smart but essential, he’d need to be in perfect form at the basketball game. The stress and stimuli of going back in front of a stadium full of industry decision-makers and fans, not to mention cameras, on the morning of the full moon would push his control over his wolf to the limit, but as long as he had Alex, Devin knew he’d be fine.

Was it weird that he’d grown this attached to her in a number of weeks?

No. Wanting to stick together was normal after bonding during a traumatic occurrence. And trust him, sprouting claws counted.

Devin pulled into the driveway at her house and texted Alex that he was outside.

He scrolled through Instagram while he waited.

The Tompkins Community Center had tagged him in a gallery of images thanking him for his “incredibly generous donation and volunteer time” at the org last week.

Damn. That sort of blew his “mindfulness retreat” cover, but hey, maybe Page Six would write him up as charitable. He looked good in the photos, happy, with Alex’s mural in the background.

While weighing the choice between playlists and podcasts for the ride to the airport—which would Alex hate less?—it occurred to him he could go in and help her with her bags. Show a little chivalry.

He tried the front door and found it unlocked. Alex appeared at the top of the stairs just as he stepped across the threshold. His breath caught.

She’d changed her hair, styled it, he guessed, the long dark locks flowing straight and smooth around her shoulders. Her makeup was different too, less. Lighter colors. Peaches and pinks across her cheeks and lips and eyes, where previously he’d only seen the colors of midnight.

Her clothes must be new. A matching set in drapey white linen. The top cut low, the sleeves hanging down, exposing the pretty curves of her shoulders, the line of her collarbones, and the top of her tits flushed slightly pink.

“What do you think?” She did a little twirl that sent the thin skirt floating around her ankles, then paused in a pose for his appraisal with one sandaled foot thrust forward. When had she painted her toenails shell pink instead of emerald?

Devin answered honestly. He didn’t even think about it. He couldn’t.

“I fucking hate it.”

She smelled wrong . The clothes were new and chemical treated, lingering traces of plastic and metal from hangers. Worse, he could smell strangers’ hands on her. Whoever had done her hair had touched the nape of her neck. Devin fought back a snarl.

The scent of each new product mingling with her skin assaulted his nostrils, all of them intolerable because they diluted his favorite smell in the world. Devin clenched his fists, trying to fight the shift. The wolf was a mess. He wanted his claws so he could tear her clothes off and then shred them. Why—he demanded—wasn’t Devin rushing forward to rub himself all over Alex until the offensive scents were covered?

“Are you serious?” She relaxed out of the strange model pose and kind of slumped against the railing. “I drove, like, two hours to Nordstrom.” Alex brushed her hand down the skirt, which, in classic linen fashion, already had wrinkles. “I thought this was how rich people dressed in LA.”

“There’s not a universal uniform.” Where had she gotten that idea? Watching reruns of The OC ?

Devin eyed the duffel bag slung over her shoulder. What if all she’d packed was this new stuff? Where were all her stupid threadbare T-shirts and those faded jeans with holes he knew came from years of real wear and tear because their placement wasn’t strategically slutty?

“I was making an effort to fit in.” Alex crossed her arms.

“Why would you try to fit in?” She didn’t do that. Her entire MO was prolonged rebellion against the majority.

“For you.” Her voice took on a hard, sharp note. “In case we’re out together and someone’s looking.”

The wolf was so close to the surface, Devin could barely concentrate. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to breathe through his mouth.

“No one’s gonna be looking at you,” he said fiercely. They better not. If any aggressive paparazzi or Weinstein-style studio creeps tried getting close to Alex, he would rip their arms off.

She huffed out a breath. “Okay. Fine.”

When he looked next, the blush from her chest had spread to a hot red in her cheeks.

She waved at the door, which Devin was blocking with his body.

“Can we just go, please?”

He looked at his watch. They didn’t have much time before the flight, but this was an emergency. His head hurt. And his heart was pounding out of control. Devin hadn’t realized how much he relied on the constant comfort of her scent. How uniquely it made him feel happy and safe and, okay, fine, horny. But that wasn’t the point right now.

“Do you think you could undo all that?” He waved at her hair and face and outfit, resisting the urge to pick her up and march back upstairs. If they just rolled around naked together in her bed for a while, everything would be better. After Googling “endometriosis” last night, he understood she’d likely want to avoid penetration for the duration of her period. But they could still make out, and Devin was pretty sure he’d get her to come with his mouth on her nipples.

“Can I undo—” Alex repeated, then stopped. Her eyes turned murderous. “I almost forgot what an asshole you are.”

She stormed back up the stairs, the wooden heels on those sandals clopping like Lou’s hooves at a gallop.

Devin followed her to her bedroom. Just being inside, breathing the air that smelled good, right, made him relax by degrees. He flopped onto the crisp white comforter atop her neatly made bed. This ordeal had taken a lot out of him.

Alex started flinging clothes out of the closet haphazardly. A pair of pilling sweatpants hit him in the face. He inhaled; bliss .

“Any other aesthetic preferences of yours I should keep in mind ahead of this trip?” Each word dripped acid.

It was a bummer that telling her how hot she looked when she got mad wouldn’t do him any favors right now.

Devin got why she smelled so angry right now. Changing was annoying. And obviously she’d put in effort getting ready. Plus, she was probably nervous about the trip. LA had about a billion more people than Tompkins. And she’d be accompanying him to a big celebrity-packed event.

“Don’t worry about impressing anyone.” She didn’t need to win approval in LA the way he did.

Devin had spent his whole life hungry, most of it literally as well as figuratively, waiting with baited breath for the day everyone realized the only interesting things he’d ever done happened onscreen. Alex was so much better than him. In so many ways. He had one thing he was good at. He needed to ride it until the wheels fell off.

The basketball game was the perfect rebrand event. Brian Dempsey would be there. Devin had enhanced speed and hand-eye coordination. He could go all Michael J. Fox on the court, play amazing, raise a buttload of cash for charity, and wind up back on top.

If he nailed this, the viral video of him in Venice would suddenly look like smart marketing versus a breakdown / cry for attention from an aging actor.

Devin could do it. He knew he could. Because Alex would be there, cheering him on.

The lone wolf dies but the pack survives. That George R. R. Martin guy was really onto something.