Chapter 9
Willow
The next morning, I wandered down to the café from my upstairs apartment, battling a throbbing headache from my emotional hangover. When my foot hit the fifth step, I noticed the lights were already on. Rubbing my eyes again, I peered into the empty café to find Harlow flipping down chairs.
Of course. I internally groaned.
Harlow’s head popped up when she heard the floor creak under my feet.
“Morning,” she greeted, her voice dubiously cheery for four a.m.
“You’re up early,” I muttered as I wandered to the espresso machine. I eyed my younger sister again, noting the extra spikiness to her bleach-blonde mullet. “And you look like you got in a fight with the hair gel this morning.”
“You know I always mess with my hair when I’m stressed,” she replied, adding a cutlery basket to one table before moving on to the next.
“And why are you stressed?”
“Hmm, maybe it’s the fact that you stormed in here crying last night and told me to leave you alone?” she asked incredulously, brandishing her arms in the air for full-tantrum effect. “I left you alone then, but now it’s time to spill.”
Harlow had been waiting up for me so I could give her all the details from my date with Wyatt.
But what should have been a sisterly moment of mutual gushing about love and butterflies had turned into a blunt exchange of snippy comments before I’d locked myself upstairs and cried myself to sleep.
Not very “eldest daughter who can handle anything” of me, but everyone deserved a mental breakdown every once in a while.
I dug my fingers into the nagging soft spots in my head. “I’m fine,” I grumbled.
“Yeah, you look as fresh as a fucking daisy,” she replied, walking dangerously close to hugging distance. “What’s going on?”
I flipped on the bean grinder and started preparing myself the first of many lattes that I would be consuming to get through the next ten hours.
I glanced up at my sister’s worried face and knew I had to answer her, but the sharp sting of tears filled my throat. “Do you want something before prep?” My deflection came out as more of a rasp than a question.
She rounded the bar and leaned against the countertop, still waiting patiently for me to break. I prepped the double-shot espresso basket and ran the machine. If I could make this one drink, I could do anything.
“If you need the day to rot in bed, I can handle things down here,” Harlow suggested carefully, like I would detonate at any moment.
I focused on swirling the milk in my frothing jug until it hit the perfect bubble ratio, tapped it on the counter, then focused all my frustrations on creating the perfect maple leaf latte art.
I failed miserably.
When I set the small mug down on the counter, Harlow and I both stared at it. The wonky maple looked all too much like a different sort of magical leaf.
I could hear Billy’s admonishments already.
Sticking my finger in the cup, I spun the foam, then grabbed the mug and sipped half in one go.
Through no fault of its own, the messy latte did not cure my heartache or dull the sensations storming through my head. And after several long moments, I couldn’t fight the waterworks any longer. I sniffed, my mouth contorting as if I could suck the tears back into my eyes.
“Oh shit! This is bad.” Harlow instantly closed the distance between us and wrapped me up in a tight hug. “You don’t even cry at those shelter dog commercials.”
My throat strained, still dry and sore from terrible sleep. “I hate those commercials.”
“Yeah, well. I hate whatever is going on with you,” she countered. “You can tell me. It’ll stay just between us.”
“You can’t tell Jordyn.” I pulled away to point an accusatory finger at her. “And you can’t tell Agnes or Avery or anyone else for that matter. Okay?”
She nodded before taking a step back. “Pinky promise.”
The wall of dread cracked and so did my resolve.
I couldn’t keep it all inside my head. I launched into every detail I could remember: how we’d finally kissed, how I’d thought that all of our back-and-forth over the years had been leading somewhere, only to be saddled with so much baggage that any prospect of a future seemed too daunting.
When I finally got to the bit about Wyatt’s mating bond and how it had been affecting me all this time, Harlow pinched the bridge of her nose.
Upon further scrutiny, Harlow didn’t seem surprised about any of it.
I wondered if Jordyn had already clued her in or, at the very least, had given her a hint.
I wanted to be angry with Harlow, but I couldn’t blame her for not wanting to be the one to spill this big, explosive secret, not when it was Wyatt’s truth to tell.
Especially when I’d been so hard on her last year.
“Wow. Okay,” Harlow finally said, leveling me with a grounding gaze that only she could make work.
“Yeah. It wasn’t the best night.” I sighed, letting go of all the weight on my chest. As much as I hated being vulnerable, unloading it all with my sister had been cathartic. “To be fair, I think getting broken up with at prom was still my worst date, but this one was a close second.”
“Do you want me to key Wyatt’s car too?”
My eyes snapped up to hers. “You swore it wasn’t you!” She burst into laughter. “Oh, my witchy moon gods, I lied to the principal and campus security for you!”
“Calm down.” Harlow snickered. “I’m sure the statute of limitations has passed. Besides, you omitted information that you weren’t privy to. That’s not lying. Which is also why I didn’t tell you it was me to begin with.”
I groaned as I took another sip of my latte. Even though it didn’t look pretty, it tasted amazing. “This is going to haunt me.”
“I have experience with that too.” She gave me a wink, and I let myself laugh finally.
Having Harlow close had been many things, but never once had I regretted her being here. She fit just as well as I did, and it seemed that we were both determined to put down roots. If we tangled those connections tight enough, maybe we could withstand any upheaval together.
I composed myself, finished my coffee, then started prepping for the morning rush when there was a knock at the back door.
Wyatt never knocked.
Harlow was the one to answer. But as many times as I’d imagined what this morning delivery would look like, I hadn’t expected a feminine blonde.
“Oh! Hey, Eloise,” Harlow said as Wyatt’s sister passed through the doorway carrying a giant white paper box of pastries.
“Morning, ladies,” Eloise replied cheerfully, though she let the last syllable linger. Judging by the awkwardness hanging in the air, I assumed she’d just had a similar sibling conversation of her own. She looked at me, brows pinching. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
“Uh . . .” I passed a look between her and my sister. “I guess.”
Harlow hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “I’m going to go sweep the front steps and reset the gourds.”
I gave her a grateful nod as she made herself scarce.
Eloise set the box on the countertop and braced her hands on either side of it.
She had similar features to her brother—freckled cheeks, ocean-blue eyes, and curly blonde hair that somehow always fell in just the right way.
She kept her makeup light, likely due to the bakery ovens, and had the classic septum and eyebrow piercing combo that Harlow said was the signature “slut-era queer” look.
But I knew the mischievous twinkle in her eyes was pure wolf.
“I’m guessing you’ve talked to Wyatt?” I asked, folding my arms around myself.
Eloise shook her head. “He’s so torn up about it, he could barely get out of bed.” She panned a hand down her frame. “Hence the upgraded deliverywoman.”
“Well, the feeling is mutual. But thanks for bringing by the morning order.” I had no idea what else to say.
I didn’t want to hurt Wyatt, but my feelings and emotions were just as valid.
Part of me wondered what Eloise thought of all this, but I was too scared to ask.
She had always been friendly to me despite her coy demeanor, but now I wondered if it was because she knew what I meant to her brother.
It warmed me to think she might look after him like that.
“He’s doing his best, but he has to pick himself up, you know?” The way she said it felt more like she was convincing herself.
“I hate this,” I admitted. “I know it’s not my fault, but I hate this feeling like somehow it is. You know?”
“Oh, I know all about that. More than you could ever know. But that’s werewolf politics for you.” She raised her shoulders and let them fall in defeat. “If I had to guess, I’d say he was trying to protect you both from a lot of trouble.”
“He said he hasn’t shifted in years. And that he could hurt me if he did.”
“Wow, he really explained this to you in the worst way possible, didn’t he?” She shook her head. “It’s not like that. You’re his everything. He would never hurt you, but . . .”
“But what?”
She looked everywhere but at me. “On a full moon, he’d want to . . . uh, mate.”
Well, shit.
Having to tell your brother’s potential girlfriend he’d want to fuck her was probably not on her bingo card today.
“Oh.”
“Want is probably too gentle a word,” she corrected.
“Every cell in his body would tell him he needed to. He’d never try to coerce you, you know,” she added hastily.
“Even fully wolfed out, he’d never. But it would be torture for him.
” She rubbed a hand across her chest. “Truly torture to be far from his mate on a full moon. Like, he’d probably ask me to chain him up or something.
I wouldn’t wish that agony on anyone, especially not my brother. ”
I didn’t want to admit to Wyatt’s little sister that the idea of us having an intense bout of lovemaking at least once a month wasn’t exactly dissuading me. From that kiss alone, I knew it would be unreal.
“But with time, unmated, it would ease,” Eloise added. “Especially with distance.”
“Distance?”
“My mother had a mate who wasn’t my father, you know.”
My mouth fell open. “I didn’t know.”
“No one talks about it, but her mate was forced to relocate to the West Coast just to keep his sanity.” She huffed.
“For wolves, mating bonds are intense and hard to break, but Mom moved on. She really loved our father. And for that sort of love to come after a broken bond is rare, but it’s possible. ”
I ached at the thought of Wyatt moving on. Could I stand to watch him fall for someone else, settle down, and start a family like the pack wanted him to?
“Why did your mom reject her mate?”
“Mom’s side of the family was positioning her to be the next wolf queen, and her mate was getting in the way.
Back then, there was a lot less choice when it came to the great werewolf families.
” Eloise shrugged. “They wanted to elevate their status in the pack, and their beautiful, young daughter was the way to do that.”
“That’s awful,” I muttered, and Eloise nodded in agreement. “And that’s what your pack wants, I’m guessing? I’d imagine a human as the future alpha’s mate would be a million times worse.”
“They’re old school. They like tradition.
” She cringed. “But if you ask me, it’s long past time for them to step into the modern world,” she added bitterly.
“They’d get over it, with time. Every scandal fades to a new one.
If you wanted to be a part of this circus—which, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t—they’d accept you eventually. ”
I nodded, not sure I was agreeing but more acknowledging that in all these complicated feelings, there was room for growth.
“We’re not all fur and fangs,” Eloise continued. “We can be a pretty great group to be aligned with in this town, especially as a human. As queen, you’d have the unwavering protection of the pack. They’d die for you.”
I blinked at her, surprised at the sentiment. I thought of the note in the drawer and the threats I’d been getting. Would my relationship with Wyatt cost me more than just my heart?
I knew if I took even one step toward him, I’d never be able to go back.
“There’s a lot to consider,” I murmured, grabbing a pair of tongs and opening the boxes of pastries.
“I understand.” Eloise moved out of my way. “But maybe don’t take too much time? I’m already sick of having a moping puppy in my bakery.”
I chuckled. “He’s lucky to have you for a sister.”
“You could be just as lucky.” She smiled, and warmth bloomed in my chest.
“Hey,” Harlow sounded off from the corner of the café. “She’s already got a wicked-awesome sister, thank you very much.”
Eloise chuckled. “You and Jordyn really do belong together.” Harlow blushed, and Eloise turned back to me. “But if I could ask for one favor. If you’re thinking of not taking him as a mate, maybe give me a heads-up so I can soften the blow . . . and fortify the bakery?”
I set down the tongs and hugged her. I loved how much she cared about him.
She let out a surprised laugh. “I didn’t take you for a hugger,” she murmured, squeezing me back just as fiercely.
“I’m not,” I said, not letting her go for a second. “But you’ve helped me figure a few things out.”