Meant for Them (Trash Haven #1)

Chapter 1

one

Morgan

I never dreamed of becoming a topless maid, but when life gives you lemons, sometimes you need to whip off your top and clean with them.

But I get ahead of myself.

To tell you about where I ended up, I guess we should probably start where I began; a dead-end job at a gas station, because not many people will hire a half-breed wolf shifter without even a high school diploma.

Education is supposed to be the great equalizer, but that’s only if you can afford it. Truth be told, I was lucky to get the job I have at all, because it keeps a shitty roof over my head and ramen in my belly, and if that’s not living the dream, then I don’t know what is.

The biggest perk though is definitely the clientele.

Sometimes when I’m really depressed, I’ll imagine what everyone that stops inside is doing, who they are, making up entire stories for them to keep myself occupied.

My favorite customer is this whacky old lady that I’m pretty sure lives in a box a few streets over, and her teeth are disgusting, but she always comes in on Wednesdays for a cheap cup of coffee that she can refill as many times that she wants to that day.

She never makes any sense, but she’s kind, so I never bother her when she hangs around during my shifts.

Then there’re the teens on their way to school, stopping in to buy a breakfast sandwich and throw a few bucks of gas in their tank, the young women smartly dressed on their way to somewhere important that fill up their tank and leave, the sleezy men that always seem to find a way to watch them, and that leaves me with my least favorite customer.

The businessmen that think if they throw a few compliments my way I’ll miraculously fall on my back and spread my legs.

Okay, so maybe the job perks actually suck, but like I said, I’m a half-breed.

In this world, wolves run the show, and they try to steer clear of humans, who have slowly removed themselves from our neighborhoods.

Something about not wanting to mingle with beasts.

Humans discovered we existed because an alpha’s kid way back when thought they were on to something by exposing our community to a huge group of politicians, and we all were sick of hiding in plain sight anyway.

Eventually, people stopped screaming, and started ignoring us.

Which is fine because wolves and humans don’t usually mix too well.

Basically, humans kind of suck a lot of the time, though of course there are some good ones out there, but when wolves and humans decide to get it on, there’s only a 50% chance that their kid will be able to shift.

Wolves get off on making baby wolves, and a lot of human women get freaked out by having a baby born with a back full of fur.

I can shift, something my human mom always tried to ignore, but I was the result of a paid hookup.

That’s right, not only am I a half-breed, but I’m also the unwanted daughter of a sex worker. I’ve been on my own since I was more or less 13, but I’ve made it work with very little mommy issues.

Wouldn’t mind having a daddy issue or two though if you catch my drift.

Now that you’ve got my backstory, let’s set the scene. I’m cleaning up a purple spilled slushy some kid dropped mid-tantrum, getting my shoes all sticky and trying to get the old shitty mop we have to do its job, half bent over, when he walks in.

At first, I’m too caught up in my task to do much more than call a ‘hello’ when the door chime goes off, but then I do something stupid enough to get noticed.

I turn too quickly with that mop bucket full of grayish purple suds, see one of the prettiest men I’ve ever seen in my life, and then eat shit big time.

Oh, and dump the entire mop bucket over myself in the process.

I had a lot going for me that day.

I contemplated just giving up there and then, hoping if I laid still enough and stared hard enough at the foam tile ceiling that the guy would get annoyed enough to leave and go somewhere else, but even soaked with nasty water, I could feel his eyes on me.

Weird kink to have, but whatever.

“You okay?”

And then he reached out a hand to help me up, and I stared at it like he was offering me something far more sinister.

“Just peachy,” my voice scratched out.

Eventually I got myself to sitting, rubbing the back of my head where I smacked it into the linoleum, deciding to not give a shit that my white uniform shirt was now completely see through and I was wearing a cotton bra with little cows on it and a bow in the center.

So he could see I was wearing a cotton bra with little cows on it. With a bow in the center.

I like to sew, and it’s honestly the best kept secret when you’re poor. Make everything yourself because you sure as hell won’t be able to afford to buy it.

“Here, let me help you, don’t want you to slip again.”

“Oh my god, are you laughing at me? Asshole.”

I get up too quickly and immediately slip again. This time though, in my haste, I reach for the mop bucket that’s still got a little bit of brackish water in it, tilting it over right onto my face.

Fuck me.

“Here, I insist.”

Oh, he’s definitely laughing at me now.

I’m not happy about it, but this time I accept the hand that’s offered, kick the now-empty bucket in irritation, and nearly eat shit again, except that Mr. Hero Pants grabs me by the waist and stops my momentum immediately.

“Maybe you should just stop moving for a second until you get your bearings.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He’s got me pressed against him, and unfortunately, it feels nice.

“There are worse ways I could be spending my morning, that’s for sure.”

When I do pull away from him, I reach for a stack of napkins and pat my face off, then promptly move the wet floor sign closer to the door so I can mop the mess up again and stow the bucket.

Thankfully, I have an extra t-shirt in my backpack, but my bra is soaked so I’m just going to have to go without it for now. I’ll decide later if I give a fuck about that.

After fixing my hair in the shitty office and wiping myself down with a pack of baby wipes, I head back out to the counter, only to see that the pretty man is still standing there, still needing me to assist him.

Great. Really, just fantastic. “Which pump?”

He stares at me. “I beg your pardon?”

I motion to the gas pumps outside, trying to make out which one his car is parked at.

“Oh, uh, I don’t need gas.”

“No? So you just parked at a pump and wandered into the shop to kill some time then?”

He snorts, extending his hand. “I’m Alex.”

“Cool. You need smokes then? They’re bad for you, you know.”

He shakes his head, getting the memo there will be no hand shaking going on, and pulling his back to his body. “You like working here?”

I make a show of staring at where the stupid mess was I just had to clean up for somebody else, look around the rows of junk food and the awful fluorescent mood lighting, and then give him my best, brightest smile. “Gee, it’s fantastic! Dreamlike!”

“I don’t mean to overstep—"

“Good, then don’t.”

He cracks a half-smile, then leans forward on the counter, folding his hands inches away from me. “My sister owns a company and she’s looking for girls. You’d be perfect.”

He pulls a business card out of a fancy leather wallet and slides it over to me.

While reading the words engraved on it, my eyebrows climb so damn high on my forehead that I’m worried they might fall off my face.

“Pretty Little Miss Maids? Oh my god, your job offer is to clean naked for strangers? Yeah, no thanks. I’m good here. ”

I try to slide the card back, but his hand stops me, covering mine up. He’s warm and his hands have just a bit of callus to them, but that’s not what has my heart racing.

It’s the fact that what I ignored before when he helped me up is a bit harder to ignore when I’m staring into gray eyes and tan skin and holy fuck…fuck fate, that fickle bitch.

Did I mention wolves have fated mates?

His eyes blow out, pupils overtaking the pretty gray color, and his breath deepens. “Interesting.”

I yank my hand back as fast as possible, because there’s no way in hell I’m getting involved with a man right now, fated mate or not. “What did you come in here for? And when can you leave?”

He takes a step back, surprised by the acerbic tone I broke out just for him, and I think he’s half a second away from jumping over the counter and doing something really stupid.

I grab the baseball bat I keep stored under the counter for messy interactions, propping it on my shoulder so he knows I’m not being coy.

“But…half-breed or no, I know you just got the same information I did, beautiful.”

“And I know I just asked you to leave. Look, I’m a poor half-breed working a shitty job, living in a shitty apartment, and your suit looks like it cost more than what I spend in rent for half the year.

Let’s just…pretend this didn’t happen and go our separate ways. Trust me, I’m not good enough for you.”

He studies me, leaning a bit closer. “Who told you that?”

“No one. Or, well, everyone. It’s a lesson I’ve learned over countless interactions with wolves in my life.

No one wants the half-breeds, and it’s not like I’ve got a lot going for me.

You are wiped of any obligation to me, so just run off to whatever important place you need to be and enjoy your nice home and your shiny life and thank yourself for not getting involved with the likes of me. ”

I think he’s going to walk off and leave, but he grabs an armful of candy and a cup of coffee instead, throwing everything on the counter. I refuse to make eye contact while I scan everything, throwing it in a bag for him while making sure I don’t touch his hand when I slide it across the counter.

“Think about the job offer,” he says before tapping the counter and sliding the card back to my side of it before walking out. “It pays good, and it’d only be for me.”

He looks back several times before he gets in his car, pulling out his phone to call someone immediately.

Then his car stays parked for a few minutes after that, and I swear he takes a picture of me through the window, and when he leaves, I tell myself I’m relieved.

So what if I only get one fated mate in my life?

I’ve been conditioned to expect that to not work out in my favor, so I can’t be too upset that it didn’t.

I don’t need someone to swoop in and take care of me, I don’t need his pity, and I sure as hell don’t need drama from pretentious people he hangs with that will likely fly off the handle at learning who he’s mated to by fate.

Maybe it’s time to skip town and start over somewhere new.

Is that too dramatic?