Vera: I’ll be there.
I’m debating whether to add a hug emoji or if Riley will throw up in his mouth if I’m too affectionate, when another message pops up.
Riley: I do have one piece of good news. Bas bought his parents’ old place, and he’s moving back in. Just like old times.
I read through the message about a hundred times, staring at each letter in order while I try to sort through my jumble of feelings. I haven’t seen Bas since the night that shall never again be mentioned right before I left for college. If I’m honest with myself, I’ve been avoiding being with him and Riley in the same room in case either of them gets a whiff of the way my scent changes when I’m near Bas.
That’s the trouble with shifters. You can’t hide anything.
I figured a little time and space would help me get over him, but from the suspicious way my heart rate has climbed since I got Riley’s message, I’d say it hasn’t worked yet.
Everything I type back sounds weird and phony. I finally settle on something lame and throw my phone away from me, lying back against the pillow with a huff. Why’d I have to go and develop an obsession with my brother’s best friend who has only ever looked at me like a little sister? Why am I such a loser?
Maybe I should go out tonight and have yet another meaningless one-night stand before I book my ticket home. My college roommate, Kate, is already home for the holidays, so itwould be the perfect opportunity. Trouble is, I can’t seem to muster up the will. It never works anyway. It doesn’t seem to matter what I do, my mind always returns to Bastien’s warm, kind eyes and his generous mouth every time I’m close, and that’s usually a deal breaker for other guys, even if I manage not to moan his name out loud like an idiot.
It’s fine, I’ve never been under any illusions that I’ll find my fated mate and have the kind of relationship my parents have. The kind people dream about finding. I might have been born into a family of shifters, but I didn’t inherit the magic.
No, the best chance I’ve got is a nice human who won’t ask too many questions about my sightly odd family. So the sooner I stop dreaming about what might have been, the better.
TWO
Bastien
The place looks lonely with half the rooms empty. I don’t like it, but I can’t do much about it right now. The furniture company said the stuff I ordered won’t be delivered until well after Christmas. Besides, it doesn’t matter. I’ll never be able to get my childhood home back.
It was stupid even thinking I could when I bought the place.
With a sigh I wrench open the fridge door and pull out a beer, popping open the cap with a thumb and letting it spin on the bare kitchen counter while I take a long drink. I set it down and lean an elbow on the cool marble and look out over the open-plan living area, trying not to think about afternoons sitting at the big wooden table that used to take up half the space, chewing on the end of my pencil while I tried to work out my math homework. Big fat waste of everyone’s time.
I grin when I remember the particular pattern of knocks Riley used to make at the back door when he wanted me to come out and play football with him in the end of the cul-de-sac.
Knock-knock-knock, knock-knock-knock, knock, knock.
I tilt my head, my bear scenting the air. There it is again.
Knock-knock-knock, knock-knock-knock, knock, knock. This time I’m certain it’s not just my imagination.
I set my beer down and stride over to the glass doors to let Riley in, shaking my head. “You know you’re allowed to use the front door now, you idiot.”
“Why the heck would I do that?” He stretches up to ruffle my hair, which used to be achievable for him when we were kids, but it’s been a long time since my fox shifter friend could reach my head without getting on tiptoes. I pull him into a hug before he can.
“Good to see you.”
After a respectable amount of time, I release him and step back, wishing I didn’t have to. I love hugs. Always have.
“So what’s it like to move back in? Look at this place. It looks so different.” Riley spins, taking in the bare walls and empty space.
He’s right. The previous owners renovated the kitchen and the bathrooms when we moved out. Objectively I know that was a smart choice. The old orange-and-brown tiles were outdated, and nobody wants linoleum in the kitchen anymore. Nobody except a sentimental bear who wanted to crawl back into a time and place where I was happy once upon a time.
“Yeah, it’s weird. It’s good to have my own place, though. Of course, there’s always space for you if you want a room close by your parents.”
Riley gives an incredulous laugh. “You’ve got to be joking! I’m straight back to the city as soon as the holidays are over. I’d live in a drafty cardboard box in an alley if it meant I got to live in the big smoke. I was not made for a small-town life.”
“That thing you call an apartment might as well be a drafty cardboard box, Riley. I’ve seen it. I could barely squeeze through the door.”
He brushes off my comment with a scoff and heads for the fridge, helping himself to a beer. “You can’t blame folks for not making things giant sized. Just because you grew to the size of one of Mrs Lachlan’s pumpkins that stayed hidden under the bush all summer.”
I laugh. He’s not wrong. Everything about me is about five sizes too big, which has caused its fair share of problems in my life. Some of which I hope my best friend never finds out about.
