Chapter 5
MARK
Ipushed open the diner door, and the bell above it gave a cheerful jingle as Zack and I stepped inside. The warm scent of coffee and fried food wrapped around us instantly.
The place had that lived-in charm I always liked. Vinyl seats, a jukebox in the corner, and servers who probably knew every customer’s usual order. It looked like somewhere people came to escape for a while, the kind of diner that didn’t rush you to leave.
I brushed a hand through my hair, trying not to think about how close Zack was walking beside me.
The place was half-full with families, truckers, and a couple on a late-night date. Zack headed for a booth near the window and slid in, shrugging out of his jacket.
The dim light from the hanging lamp caught in his curls, making them gleam.
He looked good like that, relaxed, casual, and a little too easy to stare at.
“So,” I said as I sat across from him and picked up the menu, “what’s good here?”
Zack grinned.
“Depends how brave you’re feeling. The pancakes are famous. So’s the bacon cheeseburger. But whatever you do, get the pie. Apple or blueberry. Rosie’s pies have ruined relationships and started new ones,” Zack said.
I laughed. “That a warning or a promise?” I asked.
“Both,” he said with a smirk, sipping his water.
The waitress came by. We ordered, me going with the burger and pie on Zack’s enthusiastic recommendation, and Zack sticking with breakfast-for-dinner. Pancakes and bacon.
After she left, a small silence fell between us. Not awkward exactly, just charged. Like waiting for the first note of a song. Zack cleared his throat, eyes on his napkin.
“You know, I’m glad we cleared things up earlier,” Zack said.
I tilted my head. “You really thought I was mad about that, huh?” I asked.
He winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah.”
He looked embarrassed, which only made him more endearing.
I shook my head, smiling. “Relax. We’re good, Zack. Promise.”
That broke the ice. Zack laughed, really laughed, shoulders easing as his guard dropped. The sound filled the booth, warm and infectious.
I found myself smiling back, tension draining out of me. Seeing him like that, unguarded and happy, made something in my chest go soft.
By the time our food arrived, it felt easy again, natural.
“So,” Zack said, pushing syrup around his pancakes, “song choices. You said you’re cool mixing classics with newer stuff?”
“Yeah,” I said, biting into the burger. I had to admit, the burger might actually be life-changing.
I continued, “I figured we open upbeat, then slow it down later. You’ve got great harmony control. We should use that.”
Zack blinked, surprised. “You really think so?”
“Of course,” I said without missing a beat. “I have a great ear.”
He ducked his head, pretending to focus on his food, but I caught the faint pink at his cheeks.
“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mark,” he finally said.
“Noted,” I answered.
We spent the next half hour tossing around song ideas, scribbling on napkins, humming snippets to each other. We clicked without even trying.
Zack and I had the same rhythm, same instincts.
The songs practically arranged themselves. When we finished, Zack leaned back, sipping his drink with a satisfied sigh.
“You know, we make a pretty good team,” Zack remarked.
“Guess so,” I said, grinning.
I hesitated, then decided to ask what had been nagging at me.
“So, uh… what happens if your other bandmates change their minds and want back in for New Year’s?”
Zack’s smile dimmed, but he didn’t look away. “They won’t.”
I frowned. “You sure?”
“Yeah.” He toyed with his fork. “They’ve got their own stuff going on. Noah’s spending the holidays with his mate’s family in Silvercrest. And Ethan’s head healer now, and between that and everything else, he barely has time to eat, let alone play gigs.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I get that. My brother Devon’s a healer too. Not exactly a job with set hours.”
Zack’s head tilted. “Oh right. I almost forgot Devon’s your brother.”
I laughed. “You know him?”
“Not personally, but Ethan talks about him all the time. Says Devon’s one of the most dedicated healers he knows and he’s such a great and patient mentor.”
That made me smile. Pride and affection swelled in my chest.
“Yeah, that sounds like him. He’s always been that way. When we were kids, he’d patch up anyone who got hurt. Us, strangers, whoever. Didn’t matter if it was a scraped knee or a broken heart. Devon had a fix,” I said.
Zack laughed, eyes warm. “Are you guys close?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Devon and Chris, especially. We were always getting into trouble. Once, Chris dared me to jump off the shed roof into a pile of leaves. Spoiler, the leaves didn’t help. Devon spent an hour scolding us while wrapping my ankle. Said next time, he’d put me in bubble wrap.”
Zack’s grin widened. “Sounds like a good brother.”
“The best,” I agreed.
The conversation drifted easily from there. Stories, songs, laughter that came easier with every minute. Zack’s walls were gone now.
The guarded, cautious guy from before was replaced by someone playful and open.
At one point, he brushed a crumb from his lip, and my gaze followed the motion before I could stop it.
He caught me looking and just smirked, that little flash of heat sparking between us again.
Yeah. The chemistry was still there. No denying it. Still, I tried to keep my head. We were here to talk about the set, not to rekindle whatever that night had been.
Still, it was hard to ignore the way his eyes lingered, or how good it felt when our laughter overlapped.
When the check came, I hesitated. I wanted to offer to pay. It would be a small gesture that might say this mattered to me. But maybe that was too much, too soon.
Zack glanced up. “Split it?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Split it.”
We left some cash on the table and stepped back outside. The air was cool, clean after what must’ve been a light rain. The streetlights reflected in small puddles along the sidewalk.
For a second, neither of us spoke. The quiet between us was easy, comfortable. I shoved my hands in my jacket.
“Hey, uh… didn’t you say you live nearby?” I asked.
Zack nodded. “A few blocks down.”
“Mind if I walk you home? It’s late, and I could use the air,” I told him.
He smiled, teasing. “You sure it’s just about the air?”
I laughed. “Maybe not. But I’m trying to be polite.”
Zack shook his head, smiling as he started walking. “Alright. Walk me home.”
We fell into step side by side, shoulders brushing now and then. The town felt quieter here, like it belonged only to us. We talked about old gigs, terrible motels, favorite songs.
Zack told me about a disastrous festival show where the sound system blew mid-set, and I nearly doubled over laughing. I told him about sneaking into open mics with a fake ID at seventeen.
At one point, his hand brushed mine. Neither of us pulled away.
After a few seconds, his fingers twined with mine. Just like that, it was easy and natural. My chest went tight in a good way.
We reached his building sooner than I wanted. It was a small brick place with ivy creeping up the walls, warm light spilling from the entryway.
“Well,” he said, turning to me, “this is me.”
“Guess so.” I didn’t let go of his hand right away.
“Thanks for dinner,” Zack said softly. “I had a good time.”
“Me too,” I said.
The air between us felt thick with something unsaid, that fragile space right before gravity wins. Zack’s gaze flicked to my mouth, then back to my eyes, lingering there.
I could almost hear the hitch in his breath.
“You gonna stare all night, or…?” he started, voice teasing.
I didn’t let him finish. I leaned in, closing the last few inches. For a heartbeat, he didn’t move.
Then his hand came up, fingers curling lightly against my jaw, and he met me halfway.
The kiss started slow and searching. The kind that made the world fall away a little. His lips were warm, tasting faintly of syrup and coffee and something that was just him.
He exhaled against my mouth, a sound caught somewhere between a sigh and a hum, and my chest tightened.
The touch deepened naturally. No rush, no demand, just that slow, magnetic pull I’d felt from the moment I’d seen him again.
He tilted his head slightly, his curls brushing my cheek. I deepened the kiss and gripped the front of his jacket lightly, not quite ready to let go.
It wasn’t a long kiss, but it felt like it. Gentle and certain all at once, like he’d been waiting for it as much as I had.
When we finally parted, our foreheads rested together for a second. His breath mingled with mine, both of us smiling without meaning to.
“You always this smooth?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, still catching on a laugh.
“Only when it counts,” I murmured.
Zack chuckled, the sound low and fond. He gave my hand a squeeze, thumb brushing along my knuckles before he stepped back toward the door.
“Goodnight, Mark,” he said.
“Night, Zack.”
He disappeared inside, and the faint sound of his footsteps faded up the stairs.
I stood there a moment longer, staring at the closed door, the ghost of his touch still on my lips, my wolf quiet but thrumming beneath my skin.
By the time I got home, most of the family was already asleep. I kicked off my shoes by the door and padded down the hallway, my footsteps muffled by the new rug. A few picture frames gleamed faintly in the low light.
Snapshots of birthdays, hunts, and family dinners.
My chest tightened for a second as I passed one of me and my brothers when we were kids. Mud on our clothes, grins too wide for our faces. We’d been unstoppable back then.
In the kitchen, the hum of the fridge was the only sound until I noticed the faint glow of a phone screen.
Chris was leaning against the counter, his hair a mess, dressed in a T-shirt and flannel pants. He looked up when I walked in, one brow lifting.
“There’s leftovers from dinner,” he said, jerking his chin toward the fridge.
“Thanks,” I said, grabbing a glass from the cabinet. “But I already ate.”
I filled it halfway with water, trying to sound casual, though the faint smile tugging at my mouth probably gave me away.
Chris’s mouth curved into that trademark knowing grin. “Yeah, I figured. You smell like diner food and a certain wolf.”
I froze mid-step, groaning. “You’re seriously creepy sometimes, you know that?”
Chris laughed, putting his phone down on the counter. “You’re seriously obvious sometimes. You like him.”
I gave him a shove on the shoulder, not hard enough to do anything but make him chuckle.
“I’m really in trouble this time, Chris,” I admitted, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “We kissed. I really like Zack, and I don’t want to screw things up.”
Chris studied me for a moment, his teasing expression softening. “Then don’t.”
“Yeah, easier said than done,” I muttered.
He pushed off the counter and came to stand beside me, crossing his arms.
“You’ve got more confidence than you think, Mark. You just hide it behind that whole ‘I’m chill, nothing fazes me’ thing,” he said.
I let out a breath of laughter, leaning back against the counter. “That obvious, huh?”
“To anyone who knows you,” Chris said. “Look, just be yourself. That’s the guy he kissed tonight, right?”
That pulled a smile out of me despite the knot in my chest. I nodded, rubbing the back of my neck. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is.”
“Then you’re fine,” he said simply, bumping his shoulder against mine. “If he’s worth your time and from the way you’re acting right now, he probably is, he’ll see that.”
I snorted. “You sound like Devon.”
“Devon would’ve said it with more therapy talk,” Chris said dryly. “I’m going for the practical approach.”
I laughed, the tension easing out of my chest.
“Now,” Chris said, picking up his phone again, “go to bed before Mom wakes up, catches us talking, and somehow turns it into a bonding moment about feelings.”
“God forbid,” I said, grinning.
He grinned back. “Exactly.”
I gave his shoulder another shove before heading toward the stairs.
The old wood creaked softly under my feet as I climbed. Halfway up, I glanced back and saw Chris was still there, leaning against the counter, shaking his head with a fond smile.
Upstairs, the house was still. I paused by my door, Zack’s laugh still echoing in my mind, the memory of his kiss warm on my lips.
My wolf stirred restlessly beneath my skin, not in hunger or need this time, but in quiet, curious longing. It wasn’t just attraction, it was something deeper.