10. Isabella
CHAPTER TEN
ISABELLA
Three nights later, I’m sitting at the tiny desk in my bedroom, typing away. Marketing inspiration has never come this easily before, but the beginning of the tiny campaign is flowing out of me like water.
As I work on a small piece for the local newspaper, I find it’s easy to write about life in Lunamois.
To mention the kind smiles, the familiarity, the generosity.
The good fucking coffee—despite being more of a tea drinker—and the way most of these people would give you the shirt off their back if necessary.
It’s easy to reminisce about how the autumn sun shines on the trees as they change color and the almost artistic way Main Street opens up in the soft morning light.
It’s easy to pretend that this is simply a typical day in my life—not a job. Not temporary.
Nick is a big piece of why this all feels so natural. I’ve known him for basically a week at this point, but it feels like old friends coming together after a few years of being apart. It feels like we’ve been doing this our whole lives, and I don’t know what to do with that.
And when he said that he’d be jealous if Georgie flirted with me in that dark, raspy whisper? I’m surprised I didn’t melt into a pathetic, whimpering little puddle right at his feet.
I’m not one for one-night-stands or short-term flings. Call it my abandonment issues, but I need time to get attached to someone. And once I do? Losing them is too much to bear.
So even if his flirting doesn’t mean anything and I’m getting worked up over nothing, I’m keeping this barrier between us. Friends and co-workers only.
My phone buzzes with a text as I attempt to feed myself a late dinner that I may have forgotten about because I was so in the zone.
Georgie: I’m going to the bar tonight, and you’re coming with me. Text me your address, I’ll be there in thirty.
I chuckle at Georgie’s message. She’s seemingly decided we’re best friends, and I can’t bring myself to find it anything but endearing.
Maybe that’s because I don’t really have friends of my own, or maybe it’s because I genuinely like Georgie.
Either way, I hit her back with my address and a thumbs up, then make a beeline for my closet.
I don’t go out much, but I’ve got a few cute outfits saved for special events. I pull on a simple black top and red plaid skirt combo with black tights and knee-high boots.
Just as I’m finishing attempting to do something with my hair, the doorbell rings. Before I can even get out to the living room from my bedroom, Georgie bangs on the door.
“Open up!” she yells through the wood. “It’s been a long ass day, and I want a beer!”
I giggle to myself as I grab my purse and slip outside. “You have the patience of a saint, you know that?”
She gasps with mock offense. “I’ll have you know that I am the picture of patience. The very epitome of it, actually.”
“Yeah.” I lock the door behind us. “I believe you.”
“Pretending you don’t like me only makes me like you more,” she says, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
I smile as she skips toward her car. She’s a goofball, but an unrestrained one. Georgie is confident and unabashedly herself. I’d love to be like that one day.
“So where are we going?” I ask once we’ve been driving for a couple minutes.
“Claws Out.” She turns to me with a grin. “I know the name is cliché for a town full of werewolves, but we’re nothing if not unoriginal.”
I chuckle, watching the town pass by in the passenger’s side window. “I find y’all to be pretty great, honestly.”
“Of course you do. I’m fantastic.”
“Can I ask you a weird question?”
“Shoot.”
“Can vampires go out in the sunlight?”
She laughs, shaking her head a little. “Sometimes I forget how little humans know. Yeah, they’re fine. I don’t know where those rumors came from, but vampires certainly take advantage of it. They’re all pretty silly actually. Garlic, really?”
Embarrassment flushes my cheeks. I should’ve just gone on the internet instead of looking super uninformed. “Ahhhhh.”
“Who were you wondering about?” she asks, turning the music down.
“Polly Vale. I went into Home the other day and I couldn’t figure her out. But she’s nice.”
“Hot as fuck, too. I definitely tried to shoot my shot with her, but she’s unfortunately not my—” she cuts off with a slight cough. “Not into women.”
“Shame. Y’all would’ve been cute.”
“That’s what I tried to tell her.”
We turn into the bar’s parking lot and there’s a gigantic yellow circle smack dab on top of the building. “Is that a gigantic moon?”
Georgie giggles. “Yeah, Jensen built it himself one day and slapped it up there. As weird as Nick and I are, Jensen is a whole other beast.”
“I don’t think I’ve met him?” We step out of her car and make our way to the giant wooden double doors.
She shakes her head, holding open one door for me. “You wouldn’t have. He doesn’t talk to people anymore. Only sticks his head out of his office here at the bar when a fight breaks out.”
“Does that happen often?”
She shrugs, letting the door close heavily behind us. “We’re wolves. Shit happens.”
I let the comment flutter to the ground between us as I take in Claws Out Bar.
An antique wood bar that screams ‘handmade’ dominates the space. The carvings on the sides—depicting wolves, of course—are too personal to be anything other than made with love. Behind the bar is a glass wall decorated to the ceiling with liquor bottles.
On the opposite end of the building is a small stage where a band is currently setting up for the night. Booths line the walls, but most of the bar is space for dancing—or fighting, I guess, if Georgie is to be believed.
It smells like pretzels and beer and lemony cleaner. I could see Georgie and I closing this place down every weekend.
My eyes catch Georgie’s fingers dancing over her phone before she tucks it away and gives me a guilty smile.
“What were you doing?” I ask.
She steps behind me and puts her hands on my shoulders. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s get a drink!”
I side-eye her but allow her to push me to the bar stools. I’m sure I’ll find out whatever she’s planning, eventually.