FIVE
Will
“OK but what do I do?” I ask for the third time.
Jane lays a hand on Harry’s arm and he stops laughing at me. She sets aside her wine glass and leans across the table. “You think it’s real?”
I run a hand through my already sadly disheveled hair. “Yes. No. I don’t know. I think so.”
“And you like her. You’d like to meet her?”
I stare at Jane across the small table in their living room, astonished she even felt the need to ask me that question.
Harry steps in to answer when I’m speechless for too long. “He’d be crazy not to!”
Jane gives him a mock glare. “Excuse me!”
Harry raises his hands, palms out. “Hey, Bella Owens has always been my hall pass.”
I narrow my eyes at my best friend and Alpha, and my voice drops low. “Well, pick someone else.”
He gives me a growl I know is in jest, then grows serious. “Will, I haven’t seen you this set on anyone for ages. You should go for it. What if she’s your fated mate?”
I drop my gaze, unwilling to admit I already know she is.
“I’ve got to be misreading the situation. No way a woman like Bella Owens wants to go on a date with me.”
“Stop selling yourself short.” Jane’s tone is scolding. “Of course she does. Now, are you going to message her back, or do I have to drug the rest of this wine, and steal your phone and do it myself?”
“So I’m doing this, then?”
They both nod emphatically. “What have you got to lose?” Harry asks, clapping me on the shoulder.
“What remains of my dignity and self respect when she rejects me?” I suggest.
They both scoff.
“Dignity? What dignity?” Jane laughs.
I sigh dramatically. “You’ve got me there. I guess I may as well.”
“That’s the spirit,” Harry says.
Before I can overthink it, I type out a hasty message and hit send.
Will: You couldn’t possibly have thought about it more than I have, so yes. I’d love to
God, have I come on too strong? It’s late. She’s probably asleep. I’ll look like a weirdo for reading it and then not replying for hours.
There’s no answer.
To console me, Jane, Harry and I have several more glasses of wine and then I finally stagger to my feet. “I should go. In theory I have a date tomorrow.” It occurs to me then just how drunk I am.
Jane makes a sympathetic face. “Want to stay on our couch instead?”
I shake my head. “No. I need to shift and run this off.”
Harry nods sagely. “Yeah. You’ve gotta be in good shape for tomorrow when you live out every guy’s dreams. Every guy except me that is.” He lifts his arm and tucks Jane against his side. “Because I have the world’s most perfect female. But you know. Not everyone can be as lucky as me.”
“Awww.” Jane leans her head against him and they share one of those moments that always make me feel a little like I’m intruding.
Don’t get me wrong. They never say anything to make me feel that way. Only, when your two best friends discover they’re fated mates and their love is like a tangible force, it leaves you feeling a little hollow inside.
I gather the dishes from the table and take them to the kitchen.
“Leave that,” Jane says. “Tomorrow will be great. You’ll see. Now go get her.”
With my head full of possibilities, I shift, then tuck my clothes neatly onto the shelf in their mudroom to pick up next time I’m here. We’re packmates, so Harry and Jane have seen me naked so many times it’s no longer remarkable. Harry sees me off before closing the door for the night.
In full wolf form, I trot out into the London night, sparing a glance for the thin sliver of moon in the dark sky. City smells call to me. Greasy food, dank sewers, sweat and people and traffic. There’s only a hint of something fresher, of clean air and green leaves, and the last of the spring blossoms, and someone’s home cooked dinner.
I keep to the shadows, not wanting to spook any humans I come across. Monsters are out, but that doesn’t mean they’re ready to encounter an enormous wolf in the middle of a city street late at night.
I’m much faster in this form and shifting heals some of the effects of the alcohol, so I’m fairly steady on my feet—always easier on four rather than two, anyway. The moon seems to wink at me from above the buildings as I get close to Portobello Road. It’s barely a tiny sliver so the call of the beast is easy to resist. The urge to hunt and claim and rut.
It’s there, though. Deep down. The wolf is as much a part of me as the man. It’s foolish to deny that. It’s something every werewolf must accept. Growing up around humans makes it harder, in a way. You’re so close to human it can be easy to forget what you are and what you can never be.
I’ll never be one of them. Not really.
This is a bad idea, isn’t it? Seeing Bella again will only lead to heartbreak. Even if, by some slim chance, a woman like that was truly interested in me, she could never come to love my wolf. The monster.
Yet, at the back of my mind, an insistent throbbing desire whispers seductive thoughts. Little what ifs and imagine thats . Teasing me to consider that maybe—just maybe—this is really fate at work, and there’s a chance in hell I’m finally about to make all my dreams come true.
I wake when the insistent blaring of my alarm rouses me from a groggy sleep. I slap at my phone until the sound dies.
Then I remember and hastily sit up. My head spins. I reach for my phone anyway and unlock the screen to find one new message.
Bella: I’m so glad you said yes. Can you meet me at my hotel later today? I should be free by 3 pm
My heart does a little undignified somersault as I read her text. I can do that. I’ll open the shop this morning, then leave Ian to man the counter this afternoon. After all, how much damage can he do with the three customers who might accidentally wander into the shop on a Monday afternoon?
I massage my temples to erase images of cops being called, or a fire burning down the entire store. That’s not going to happen. He’s not completely useless, just generally hopeless.
Will: Yes. Absolutely. Just tell me where
With a sigh, I drag myself out of bed, ignoring my throbbing head, and shower.
Taking extra care with my hair only leads to frustration as it insists on doing this strange floppy thing to one side, and I can never get it to do anything different. I don’t know why I bother, really.
None of it matters because Bella Owens isn’t actually interested in me. This is probably some media stunt or a bid to get more free poetry books or something.
As if she needs free books. She could buy my whole store and my house three times over with the money she made from the last film she did.
A sick sort of feeling wells up in my belly when I think about that too hard, so I don’t. I concentrate so hard on not thinking about it, and distracting myself with stock take, I’m almost late.
Bella is staying at The Ritz. I look around me at the other people on the bus, wondering if any of them could guess what I’m doing. I can hardly fathom I’m about to see her again in person, let alone talk to her and spend time with her.
As I get off at my stop, I catch a glimpse of myself in the reflection on the bus window and shake my head. I’ve got to be dreaming.
My straight brown hair has predictably flopped across my forehead, sightly obscuring my unremarkable brown eyes. I’m tall, sure, but hardly well dressed. I have on a pair of chinos and a button up shirt under a chain store jacket. Not exactly dating-a-movie-star quality, am I?
What on earth does she see in a guy like me?