by Piper Vaughn
But then, they weren’t mated yet. Despite the pull between them, either one of them could still walk away. Only once their bond had been consummated, once Dylan had claimed him—wolves marked their mates with a bite, given by the stronger shifter—would they be officially mated in the eyes of the pack.
What chance did they have of getting to that point? Avery had hurt Dylan back then and made an awful first impression. If he could go back, he would behave differently. If he could go back, he would—No. There was no going back. His only hope of gaining his mate would be to change Dylan’s opinion of him now, in the present. And Avery would bet the mess he’d created with Victor did little to help his cause.
The sound of his phone ringing dragged him out of his thoughts. Thankfully. He’d been riding the fast track toward maudlin, and that was somewhere he most definitely didn’t need to go.
Avery sat up from his slumped position on the couch. Jaden’s name flashed across his iPhone screen, as it had many times the last few weeks. Avery hesitated a second before accepting the call. “Hello.”
“Hey, stranger. It’s about time you answered one of my calls. What’s been going on, man?”
Jaden’s hurt tone sent a slice of shame through Avery. He’d been neglecting his best friend for nearly a month. Jaden deserved better.
Throat tight, Avery toed the area rug beneath his coffee table. “Sorry, Jay. It’s been… it’s been crazy.”
“It’s okay. I’ve been worried, you know? Wouldn’t you be if I went off the grid for a few weeks?”
Jaden’s understanding only made Avery feel worse. “Yeah.” He swallowed thickly. He owed Jaden more than a vague excuse and a quick apology. Jaden merited an actual explanation, no matter how much the situation embarrassed Avery.
After the Victor ordeal, he’d spent the last couple of weeks job hunting. Over two dozen resumes had resulted in only one interview. An interview that hadn’t ended in a job offer due to his “lack of experience.” What a waste of time. And, of course, none of the jobs had related to his journalism degree in any way. He’d been scouring the Internet for postings from online newspapers, blogs, magazines—anything connected to the field he’d studied. Not one hit anywhere.
It was enough to depress the most cheerful of individuals, and Avery didn’t fit into that category on even his best days.
“What’s going on, Av?”
Avery raked a hand through his hair and dragged himself off the couch. “I’ve got a lot to tell you. Want to meet up for lunch somewhere?”
“Sisters?” Jaden asked.
“Sure. See you there in half an hour?”
“Yep.” Avery disconnected the call and got dressed, taking special care with his appearance. Just because he felt miserable didn’t mean he had to look it. He had a reputation to uphold. It didn’t matter that they weren’t going anywhere fancier than a coffee shop.
He paired his tightest, olive-green skinny jeans with copper-colored Iron Ranger cap-toed boots, a white, short-sleeved button-up shirt, and one of his favorite thrift-store finds: a dark-washed Dior Homme denim jacket. It amazed Avery sometimes what some people donated. Not that he couldn’t have afforded a brand-new one—at least when he had been getting his allowance—but it made him feel a bit more environmentally conscious to buy secondhand sometimes. Probably a good thing, now that he thought about it. For the immediate future, he’d likely have to restrict his clothes-shopping to what he could scrounge up at his favorite second-hand shops. Or maybe give it up entirely. It wasn’t as if his closets weren’t already stuffed full.
With his hair combed and his dark Wayfarer sunglasses in place, he headed out to meet Jaden. Sisters Coffee Company wasn’t far, so he walked, enjoying the breeze and the rarity of unclouded skies and bright sunshine. Soon October would hit, and with it, cooler temperatures. For now, most days were in the sixties, which Avery could cope with, though he kept his loft a little above seventy year round. His hedgehog nature meant he hated extremes of any kind. Too hot and he wanted to splat out under an air conditioner. Too cold and he ran the risk of his body going into hibernation—even in his human form, which could potentially be disastrous. If it went unnoticed, he ran the risk of sleeping until he starved to death. Not exactly the way he wanted to go.
Jaden waved to him from one of the tables on the second-floor balcony when Avery entered the coffee shop. High ceilings, pale wood, and numerous windows lent the space a bright, airy feel. Avery ordered a cup of vanilla rooibos and a bowl of chicken and green chili soup, one of his rare indulgences. Despite the fact that hedgehogs were omnivorous, Avery maintained a mostly vegetarian diet. He only gave in when his body’s urgings demanded it, and today was one of those times.
He carried his food up to the table where Jaden sat. They exchanged a brief hug, and Jaden’s familiar scent, musky but sweeter than Dylan’s, washed over Avery.
“So, tell me what’s been going on,” Jaden said once Avery settled into his seat and removed his sunglasses.
Avery cradled his cup of tea between his hands and launched into the whole crazy story, keeping his voice low. Better to get it over with right away.
By the time he finished, his soup was cold and Jaden gaped at him, his mouth working silently.
“I….” Jaden blinked. “I don’t understand why you didn’t come to me. I could’ve helped you, you know? I could’ve—”
Jaden broke off when Avery reached over to squeeze his hand. “I know you would’ve helped me, and I appreciate it, but I didn’t want to get you involved with my mess. I’m sure Victor would’ve loved to have the son of Alpha Odell indebted to him. I couldn’t risk that. Besides, I didn’t want to put you in the position of having to lie to your father.”
Jaden frowned and picked at the sleeve on his cup. Avery smelled mocha, which wasn’t surprising. Jaden loved chocolate. “Well, I get that,” Jaden said finally, “but I feel awful that you were in danger and I didn’t have a fucking clue.”
Avery squeezed his hand again. “It’s okay now. Dylan helped me take care of it.” Damn. Even saying his name made Avery’s body react, a flush of warmth moving over his skin, a little quiver down low in his belly. It used to be he couldn’t speak Dylan’s name without an accompanying flash of irritation. He kind of missed those days, to be honest. He’d gotten accustomed to those feelings. They were familiar. This new stuff? Not so much. “And you know you can’t mention the races to your father,” he added. “Victor would kill me if word got out.”
Jaden gave him a wry look. “I’m not an idiot. My father would lose his mind.”
“I’m just saying….”
Jaden sighed. “Yeah, I know.” He peeled the sleeve from his cup and rolled the thin recycled cardboard into a cylinder. “What are you going to do? About Dylan and your parents and the money?”
Avery shrugged one shoulder, but he was sure Jaden could see right through his casual act. “Find a job. What else can I do?”
“That might take you months, though. When my friend Mickey got laid off, he didn’t find a new job for almost a year.”
Avery’s stomach clenched. “I know. And I don’t have any work experience, not even from high school. Honestly, who do you think would consider me a good candidate? McDonald’s?”
Jaden shuddered. “The smell alone would drive you nuts.”
Avery nudged his mostly full bowl of soup away and dropped his head into his hands. “Ugh.” He gave a dry laugh. “And they probably wouldn’t hire me either.”
“I’d put in a good word for you at Envision, but I know we’re not hiring right now.”
Avery shot Jaden a grateful smile. He loved Jaden for even considering trying to get him in at Envision when they both knew Avery didn’t have the necessary experience to work for a marketing firm anyway. “Thanks, Jay.”
Jaden stared off into middle distance for a moment, his expression contemplative. When he spoke again, it was with a hesitancy Avery seldom heard from him. “I know you probably don’t want to h
ear this, but Dylan was right about my father and the pack jobs he mentioned. You could go see him.”
Avery couldn’t help his skeptical frown. “It’s not like I haven’t thought about it, but how would I explain why I suddenly need a job? He knows my parents support me.” Avery sighed at the stab of pain in his heart. “Supported me.”
“You’re not looking at it objectively,” Jaden said. “He doesn’t know you’ve lost your parents’ financial support. Your father wouldn’t have called him. He’s only spoken to my father twice—once to ask if you could attend school here and the other to ask for approval for you to stay in Portland. We’ll tell him your parents want you to get some experience, learn some responsibility. Trust me, he won’t question it.”
Avery worried at his lower lip with his teeth, trying to shove down the hope that threatened to rise in his chest. It couldn’t possibly be this easy, could it? Not with his luck. “Seriously?”
Jaden nodded. “Seriously. I can take the rest of the day off. Let’s go see him when we’re done here. It won’t hurt to ask.”
“Okay.”
“And once that’s done, we need to talk about your mate.”
Avery snorted. “There’s nothing to talk about. He still doesn’t like me.”
Jaden arched a ginger brow. “That fifteen thousand dollars says otherwise. You guys need to talk, apologize, and get past what happened before. Stop being stubborn asses.”
“Look, it’s done. I don’t care anymore, and he doesn’t want a mate, remember? He said the way I behaved saved him the trouble of worrying how he’d let his mate down easy.” Avery sighed. “Besides, that loan was his wolf trying to protect me. Not him.”
“Uh-huh. I think you’ll find the wolf isn’t that easily separated from the man.”
Avery ignored the knowing glint in Jaden’s eye and the way his words echoed what Dylan had said. “Whatever. Why don’t we talk about Broderick instead?”
Jaden’s smile dimmed. “He won’t touch me.”
“I’m sorry, man.” And Avery was. He knew what it felt like to be rejected.
“Yeah, but it’s okay. At least he’s not my mate.”
Avery cringed, and Jaden appeared horrified by what he’d said. His hand flew up to cover his mouth.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
Avery shook his head. As much as it hurt, he couldn’t argue. He wouldn’t wish the agony of being denied by a mate on anyone, especially not his best friend. His mind flashed to that moment on the motorcycle when Dylan had pulled his hand away. Even the memory brought him pain. “Come on,” he said roughly as he got to his feet. “Let’s go see your father.”
TWO HOURS later, he had a job. One worry off the list. Alpha Odell was a reasonable man, and as Jaden and Dylan had said, he knew of several positions that needed filling within the pack. None of them related to Avery’s degree in any way, but he didn’t have the luxury of being particular. When Alpha Odell offered him a job as a driver, delivering food to the elderly and homebound pack members, as well as taking them to and from appointments as needed, Avery jumped at the chance.
It wasn’t prestigious. It wasn’t fancy. And it would never, ever cover his rent. But it paid more than minimum wage, and it sure as hell beat fast food. For now, he’d take what he could get.
“WHAT EXACTLY is it?” Dylan crossed his arms over his chest and squinted at the chopper—at least he assumed it was a bike.
“The guy said he needed a tune-up.” Kirk muffled his response around gasping chortles.
“How the fuck are you supposed to tune something like this?” Lucas mumbled from where he crouched on the other side of the green-and-yellow beast.
“With imagination.” Sawyer was the only one of them remotely serious about the task at hand.
“Imagination,” Lucas scoffed. “I imagine it looks like a fucking John Deere.”
He wasn’t wrong. The guy who had dropped his baby off a half hour ago was a newbie to town—had to be. And he said he’d heard Green’s specialized in custom bikes and would only have his wheels cared for by the best. The body of the beast was an interwoven mesh of bright green alloy, overlaying the black encasement of the gas tank. Handlebars sprouted out of the web of green and resembled vines, as did the fork. The wheels—Dylan shook his head—in the color of sunshine yellow, the wheels made it farm equipment chic. It was… different to say the least.
“Well, don’t break anything with your imagination. I don’t plan on buying that wreck.” Dylan leaned against the wall and watched Sawyer and Kirk study the mass of metal. It looked like it belonged in Gotham City—Batman flying down the streets in the Batmobile behind this thing, chasing Poison Ivy.
It was a total villain getaway bike. And he was pretty sure it cut corn too.
Dylan smiled to himself as he looked out the window. A nice day—cloudy, but then again Dylan liked the clouds. If it wasn’t raining, you could bet it would be in an hour or so. P-town was a wet city.
A thought crossed his mind and he suddenly wondered how Avery dealt with the climate. Was it ever too hot for him? Too cold? As a hedgehog, Dylan knew, Avery didn’t deal with extreme temperatures very well. Dylan didn’t consider temperatures in the fifties or sixties extreme, but did Avery? He scrubbed a hand over his head then dragged it down his face. Thoughts of Avery came more often since the trip to Victor’s.
“You should call him.” Kirk’s quiet words tugged him from his thoughts. Dylan hadn’t heard him approach.
“What’s that?”
“Your friend,” he said then blushed. “Mate. You should call him.”
Dylan shook his head and went back to watching the clouds.
“I heard he was working for the alpha now,” Kirk continued, disregarding Dylan’s evasion. “Some Meals on Wheels setup.”
Dylan nodded. He’d heard it from a customer. The uppity hedgehog thinking that taking meals to packmates would endear him to the rest of the pack. For some reason Dylan had that hope too, even if the rest of the pack didn’t.
“Have you heard from him?”
“Nope.” Dylan popped the ‘P’ sound. Christ, he sounded like a juvenile.
“Did you try calling?”
“What are you getting at?” Dylan turned to his friend, avoiding the question. No, he hadn’t called Avery. After the meeting with Victor, Dylan had dropped him off and driven home with plans to forget about Avery.
Kirk held his hands up. “Nothing. I’ve just heard he’s a pill, is all. Can’t imagine a kid like him not getting himself in trouble.”
He snorted. “You have no idea.”
“Maybe I don’t, but ignoring what you are to each other isn’t doing you or anyone else any favors.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means even when you were berating him for what the hell ever happened with Victor, you smiled more. Now you’re a depressing mess.”
Surprise muted Dylan. He hadn’t told his friends about Avery’s problems with Victor. Avery had enough to handle without worrying about rumors as well.
As if Kirk read his mind, he shrugged and said, “Victor may keep quiet about his business, but his guys don’t. I heard about it last night at Wolfhound.” He snorted. “Wish I could’ve seen Victor when you finished with him.”
Of course. Jesus, Avery couldn’t catch a break. And Dylan wondered why he even cared. Except all Dylan had thought about for weeks was Avery’s safety and making sure Victor wasn’t hounding him. Which was why Dylan had kept his eye on Victor’s comings and goings as well. Lucky for that slimeball, he hadn’t gone near Avery. The memory of Victor with his hands all over Avery made Dylan want to hunt him down. A challenge was the least that asshole deserved.
Dylan huffed. “Victor’s a coward.”
A noise echoed from the bay door, and as if summoned by the conversation, Avery peered around the corner, then wandered in. Framed by natural light behind him, Avery glowed in his navy sweater vest—no doubt some
designer Dylan couldn’t pronounce—paired with a pale blue shirt and dark jeans cuffed to show off his brown oxfords. When Avery’s crisp scent filled the room, Dylan’s pulse throbbed in his ears and his breathing sped up at the sight. The memory of that moment in the woods came back to him in a flash of heat. Dylan’s dick twitched, and he barely suppressed the groan building in the back of his throat.
Damn.
Avery’s sweet grin gave way to wide-eyed confusion when his eyes landed on the green-and-yellow bike. The momentary distraction gave Dylan time to get himself in check.
Then Avery snapped his gaze to Dylan. His nostrils flared, and as if in a trance, he took one step forward, then another. By the time Avery reached him, looking delicious and untouchable at the same time, Dylan realized the shop had gone quiet. A quick check told him that he and Avery were apparently more interesting than the concept tractor bike.
Rolling his eyes, Dylan grasped Avery’s elbow and tugged him the short distance into his office, trailed by catcalls and laughter. He slammed the door shut.
“You okay?” Dylan released Avery more roughly than he had intended, annoyed—at the guys, at Avery, and at himself. With his arms crossed over his chest, Dylan stood straight, a wall of tension waiting to fell whatever challenge came at him. He couldn’t get used to the off-balance feeling that only happened around Avery.
“Um, yeah.” Avery’s eyebrows narrowed into a V. “What about you?” Soft words filled with concern and the light touch on his forearm startled Dylan as much as it calmed him.
He stared down at the thin fingers rubbing his arm. “I’m good.” Then he took a step away. “Heard you got a job.”
“Yeah.” Avery cleared his throat, and Dylan tried to ignore the defeat swimming in Avery’s eyes. “Yes. I–I wanted to thank you for your help.”
“I didn’t do anything—just gave you the idea.”
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t have thought of it without you.” Avery sucked in a breath then chewed his bottom lip.