Chapter Three Finn #3
“I have my sister. That’s it. My parents are dead.
My grandparents are dead. My fiancé was fucking my best friend.
My bachelorette party was sponsored, and the guests were other influencers who spent all night posting to their followers.
I have one friend from college, but we lost touch because I got wrapped up in all the influencer stuff. ”
She shakes her head and scoffs. “It’s easy when being alone is a choice. It sucks when it’s forced upon you. I don’t want to be alone. I want to be married and have a family. I was going to marry someone who didn’t even desire me just so I wouldn’t be alone. I’m pathetic.”
Suddenly, her stomach gives a loud growl, and mine makes a quieter rumble in response.
We’re both hungry. Maybe she’ll feel better after eating. I don’t want to keep pressing an issue that is obviously painful for her.
“How about I start dinner?” I suggest.
Shelby nods, relief at the change of subject evident on her beautiful face. “Let me put the potatoes in. Can you set a timer for forty-five minutes?”
I set the timer and turn back to her. She’s wringing her hands and chewing on her bottom lip. What is she nervous about? I’m sure the potatoes will be fine.
“Would you mind if I go into my room and make a quick post? It probably sounds stupid to you, but I’m sure my followers want an update. I don’t want to disappoint them or have them worry. And I don’t want Konner to be the only one talking.”
Oh. I shrug. “Do whatever you want. Is forty-five minutes long enough?”
I know nothing about what posting videos on social media entails.
“Yeah, it will just take a couple of minutes.”
“Do what you need to do. I have this handled.”
I wanted to reassure Shelby she’s not alone because she has me, but that’s insane.
I met her two years ago and spoke to her for maybe two hours total over fifteen days before being persuaded to not give her a pinecone.
She was a social media influencer back then too, but not as popular as she is now.
She never denied what she did for a living, and I listened to Ivy when she told me that Shelby was only on the show to get content to post later.
Ivy said Shelby had giggled over what it would be like to kiss a Bigfoot and wondered if my hair was soft or scratchy and what it would be like to have sex with me.
It made me glad I hadn’t kissed Shelby that day.
I wanted it to mean something, not just be a cheap thrill.
Or something to make a video to titillate followers and collect likes.
I wanted it to be between us. It was bad enough that the cameras were around.
My sister follows Shelby, and she told me Shelby never gave details about her time on the show or me.
Just that she was grateful for the opportunity and that she wished everyone the best in the future.
Shifters weren’t known to the general public until fifteen years ago.
We lived among human society but kept our shifter sides hidden.
Then a grizzly bear shifter bride threw a tantrum on one of those “brides behaving badly” shows and shifted on camera.
That became a very special episode called “Grizzilla” and suddenly shifters were known—and of course reality TV came calling.
Dating shows were all the rage. Shifters and humans had been falling in love and marrying for centuries, but it was secret.
Families didn’t know that the folks across the table at Thanksgiving would shift into wolves and bears after dinner to go for a run while they were dozing watching football.
It was hard keeping secrets growing up, especially when you’re in the throes of puberty and dealing not only with spontaneous boners and cracking voices but also hoping you don’t suddenly sprout fur or a tail.
It’s easier now in a lot of ways because we can live openly, but in other ways, it’s more difficult.
It’s harder to know if people like you for who you are or if they just want to be able to say they dated a shifter, like it’s a badge to collect.
I thought that’s all Shelby saw. Ivy convinced me that’s all Shelby saw me as—a badge, bragging rights.
But when I didn’t hand her a pinecone on Bigfoot Finds a Bride, I saw the hurt and disappointment that flitted across her face.
She hid it quickly behind a smile and gracious departure, but before she could, I saw something of the truth—I hadn’t been a badge to her.
I ignored it then like I ignored everything those days.
Everyone. Except for Ivy, the woman I gave the pinecone to.
I can’t help but snort every time I think of all that.
Not only because Ivy was clearly the wrong choice but because...
pinecones? They were supposed to be symbols of how our love would grow, but I’m sure it’s just that they were cheaper than roses. Cheesier too.
My interactions with Shelby were brief, but they always left me with a peace I’ve never found with anyone else.
I thought she was beautiful, and I was physically attracted to her.
All of the women were attractive, but the peace she gave me is what I should have paid attention to.
Not Ivy’s warnings, not the whispers of Ivy’s little mean girl clique, all insisting Shelby wasn’t there for the right reasons.
Not the producers’ suggestions that the other contestants were better suited for me.
To them, better suited meant drama and ratings.
I should have listened to my heart.
But can I trust my heart now? A few hours together, total, two years ago is not enough to make any kind of declarations, no matter how easy it would be.
Instinctually, I want to reassure her she’s not alone, that she will find the right people.
Maybe I could even be one of her right people.
But that’s too much too fast. I don’t want to scare the poor woman away.
I’m lonely. I haven’t dated since the show.
It’s been over two years since I’ve kissed or been intimate with a woman.
But I’m a normal man in my late twenties, and I have physical needs.
An attractive woman is going to trigger them.
Shelby’s triggered my protective instincts too, and right now those are raging stronger than my lust. I must figure out if these are genuine feelings for her or if it's wanting to be a hero. I can’t confuse the two.
That wouldn’t be fair to either of us. This time, I’m not letting my chance with her slip away without exploring what I feel for her.
And giving her a chance to fall for me too.
But what if I’m not enough for her? I wasn’t for Ivy.
What if this second chance is really just history repeating itself?