2. James
James
I didn’t drive off right away after dropping Rafael at Bear and Bun. The sensible thing to do would’ve been to pull away from the curb, head back to Wolf and Whisk.
Then pretend the ten-minute car ride with Sugarpaw Springs’ crankiest bear hadn’t short-circuited my entire brain. But I didn’t move.
I sat there, fingers resting on the steering wheel, staring at the empty passenger seat like it had answers. Gosh, but he smelled good.
Not just good. Dangerous. Warm, woodsy, something like cedar and cinnamon and a whisper of thunder. That scent still clung to my hoodie.
My wolf stirred beneath my skin, tail twitching in curiosity and want. Rafael was like one of those puzzles you couldn’t solve even if you stared at it for hours, and believe me, I had.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the seat. What would it be like, kissing him? My grumpy bear.
Would he kiss like he talked? Short, abrupt, and with the lingering edge of a growl? Or would the glacier under all that attitude melt if someone got close enough?
If I got close enough? I imagined Rafael pinning me against that ridiculous rust-bucket delivery van of his, my breath hitching before he sealed his mouth over mine.
Then I snorted. Yeah. Right. Rafael barely looked at me without glaring, let alone inviting me to get handsy in the daylight. There was something about me he didn’t like.
I didn’t know what, exactly. It’s not like I’d ever done anything to him. At least... not that I knew of.
A sharp knock on the window yanked me out of my spiral. My wolf bristled, and I nearly threw the van into gear from sheer instinct. But it was just Sean.
I exhaled and rolled down the window.
“Hi,” Sean said, bright and friendly as ever. “You want to come in?”
I shook my head quickly. “Pretty sure Rafael would have a heart attack if he saw me hanging around too long,” I pointed out.
Sean laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell him I invited you.”
“Another time,” I promised.
“You’re missing out. We’ve got a new bear claw. Cinnamon honey glaze with toasted almond. Rafael came up with the flavor,” Sean said.
Of course he did.
“Sounds dangerously good,” I said.
Sean waved goodbye and headed back toward the bakery. I let out a long breath and finally drove off, ignoring how my pulse still hadn’t settled.
Back at Wolf and Whisk, the day didn’t get any easier. I was halfway through icing a tray of croissants when my foot slipped on a rogue smear of custard on the tile.
My elbow slammed into the edge of the counter, and I yelped, sending the icing bag flying. A strong hand caught my arm just before I could crash to the ground.
“Careful,” Callum said, his voice calm but firm. “You okay?”
I muttered a curse and stood up straight, rubbing my ribs. “Yeah. Just... not my day.”
Callum tilted his head. “Want to tell me why?”
Before I could come up with a convincing lie, Cyrus piped up from the sink. “Probably has something to do with the bear earlier.”
“What bear?” Rowan asked, looking up from his dough like a prairie dog.
Cyrus grinned. “You know, the one James has a massive crush on since the day Bear and Bun opened? Big, broody, scowly. Built like a fridge. Rafael.”
I groaned and chucked a towel at him. “I do not have a massive crush.”
“Right. That’s why you look like someone ran over your dreams with a delivery truck.”
I stuck out my tongue and gave Callum my best innocent face. “I’m fine. Really.”
Callum didn’t look convinced, but he let it go for now.
I glanced around the kitchen. Flour dust hung in the air like mist. The scent of lemon and rosemary scones baking in the ovens helped soothe my nerves. This place always felt like home.
I hadn’t known what being in a pack truly meant until I landed in Sugarpaw Springs two years ago.
Until Callum gave me a job. Until Cyrus taught me how to make a tart that didn’t taste awful. Until Rowan slipped me extra pastries when I had rough days and didn’t ask why.
Before this, it had been me and my older brother. After our parents died in a car accident my junior year, he stepped in. Did his best. But he wasn’t a pack.
He was just one wolf trying to play both parents and protector. Here, though... I had a family.
Most days, I loved them. Every single one. But some days, like today, I wanted to strangle them all with a licorice twist.
Still, I smiled as I rolled up my sleeves and got back to work. Even if Rafael hated me for some mysterious reason, at least I had my pack.
Maybe, someday, my grumpy bear would come around.
* * *
By the time we closed up Wolf and Whisk, my limbs felt like overcooked noodles. Rowan had already taken off his apron and flung it over the counter.
"Drinks?" he asked, cocking a brow at the rest of us.
Friday night tradition. We always went out for a drink or two, sometimes more, after the last shift of the week.
Usually, I was the first one to yell yes, already halfway to the door before anyone else made up their mind. But tonight…
I imagined it. Walking into the usual bar. Ordering something strong and pretending the buzz in my chest was excitement, not disappointment.
I’d find a guy. I always did. Some guy with nice hands and a quick laugh. We’d flirt. He’d lean in close. I’d pretend to feel something.
And later, when things got physical, I’d imagine someone else.
I’d imagine Rafael. I’d think about his hands, his growl, the way his eyes softened when he looked at the people he cared about.
It wasn’t like the guy of the night would care. My hook-ups never cared about connection or romance; they just wanted release.
But every time I gave in, it left me feeling hollow, like I’d carved out pieces of myself for nothing. The pleasure was fleeting. The emptiness lingered.
"Nah," I said, forcing a grin. "Another time. I’m beat."
Rowan and Cyrus exchanged a look but didn’t push. Rowan tossed me a mock salute. "Suit yourself, Mr. Responsible."
They took off together, bickering over who owed who drinks from last week. That left just me and Callum, wiping down the last counters and putting the chairs up.
Callum glanced over, his quiet presence more reassuring than intrusive.
"You know, if there’s something going on, you can always talk to me, James. I’m a decent listener,” Callum said. His tone was gentle. Not an alpha's order, just an offer.
I nodded, meaning it. "Thanks. I’m just tired. Long day."
He didn’t press, just gave me a small nod and finished up in silence. We locked up, and I headed to my truck, already half-dreaming of my bed.
Maybe I’d order a pizza, catch up on the new K-drama I’d been meaning to watch. Put my feet up, zone out, try not to think about…well, anything.
It sounded lonely, I realized. But a part of me liked the quiet. At least, that’s what I told myself. Company would’ve been nice, though. Rafael’s company, especially.
But that was wishful thinking. The guy clearly didn’t want anything to do with me beyond the occasional grumble and glare.
Still, I couldn’t help the way my thoughts drifted toward him.
I made it to my apartment building, shoulders heavy. I was halfway up the stairs to my floor when I saw it. An envelope. Thick, cream-colored, tucked neatly under my door. I froze.
It wasn’t the kind of envelope you got a coupon or pizza flyer in. This one was thick, stiff, almost expensive-looking.
The paper had weight, like it was meant to say this matters, and not in a good way.
There was no name, no return address, just my first name scrawled across the front in that sharp, familiar handwriting that made my stomach twist.
My breath caught. A cold flush rolled down the back of my neck. I looked around the hallway. Empty. Too quiet.
The overhead light flickered once, then steadied again. Still, something wasn’t right. The silence buzzed in my ears.
My wolf stirred beneath my skin, shifting uneasily. He didn’t growl, but he didn’t relax either. His instincts pressed against mine, low and warning. We were being watched.
I forced my body to move, snatched the envelope off the floor. My fingers trembled. Then I turned toward my apartment door, glancing over my shoulder one last time.
No one was there, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had just ducked out of sight. Like I’d missed them by seconds.
I jammed the key into the lock.
One click. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Yeah, five locks was overkill. It always had been. But right then, I wished I had six. My brother Joel used to say you could never be too careful.
Joel…
I stepped inside, bolted the locks behind me, and tossed the envelope on the coffee table like it had burned my hand. My stomach turned, appetite gone. So much for pizza.
I sat on the couch, staring at the envelope like it might bite. I didn’t open it. Not yet. I already knew who it was from. I could feel it in my bones.
Joel had been everything to me growing up. After our parents died, he raised me.
Taught me how to drive, how to cook eggs without setting off the smoke alarm, how to throw a punch and when not to. I loved him. I idolized him.
I hated him too.
Because Joel had also been reckless. Selfish, sometimes. He kept secrets. Took on debts he couldn’t pay, gambled more than he should have, always chasing the next big win.
He borrowed money from the wrong people and thought he could outrun the consequences.
He didn’t.
He died two years ago. Car crash. At least, that’s what they told me.
And he left me with a hundred-thousand-dollar debt.
The loan shark, Avery, had been surprisingly polite about it. He said I could pay it off in monthly installments. Generous, right?
Except Avery kept raising the interest rate. Every year. Every time I made a dent, the hole deepened.
I picked up the envelope. My hands trembled. I didn’t need to open it to know it’d be another reminder that I’d never catch up. That Joel’s mistakes had become mine.
Rafael wouldn’t take this crap, I thought suddenly, bitterly.
He wouldn’t keep his head down and pretend everything was fine. He’d storm into Avery’s office and make sure the guy never so much as looked at his name again.
But I wasn’t Rafael. I wasn’t even close. I couldn’t tell Callum. Or Rowan. Or Cyrus. I couldn’t tell anyone at Wolf and Whisk.
They thought I was just James. Playful, sometimes annoying, always ready with a pun and a stupid grin.
They’d done so much for me. Callum gave me a home when I had nowhere to go. I couldn’t drag them into this mess. They didn’t deserve it.
I stared at the letter a moment longer, then finally opened it.
Same neat handwriting. Same sterile politeness. An updated balance. New interest rate. A reminder of the terms. And, at the bottom, a note.
We know where to find you.
My chest tightened. The room felt too small and quiet.
I stood and went to the kitchen. Turned on the sink. Let the water run over my hands until they went numb.
Then I forced myself back to the couch, shoved the letter in a drawer, and tried to focus on the drama playing on the TV screen.
But I couldn’t concentrate. Not when my wolf was pacing. Not when Rafael’s face kept drifting into my mind.
I closed my eyes, exhaled slowly, and whispered, “I’m fine.”
But it didn’t feel true.