That seemed to ease the awkwardness hanging in the air. The guy nodded, smiling a little. "I see you around, but I never got the chance to ask your name. You guys moved in a few weeks back. Right?"
"I'm Sylvie. You're Motorcycle Guy."
He looked confused, then gave the helmet at his side a little shake and nodded. "Gary. But Motorcycle Guy works, too. Anyway, I used to get coffee with the girl who lived there before you. It was kind of a Saturday morning ritual. Now that she's off in Texas, my Saturdays are wide open, and I've got nobody to complain about the neighbors with. You in?"
My heart wasn't just beating anymore. It was looking frantically for a way to escape my body, pounding against every rib inside my chest like it might hold the keys to its escape.
Nope. Nope. Nope.
I tucked a hair behind my ear, smiled as naturally as I could, then gestured toward the apartment. "That sounds great, but I've actually got a boyfriend. He gets pretty jealous about that kind of stuff, so I don't know if it'd be the best idea."
Gary took the rejection surprisingly well. He really was a nice guy. "Yeah," he said. "I should've figured you were spoken for. Anyway, it was nice to meet you, and if you change your mind, just let me know. You know where to find me," he added with a grin.
I retreated inside, pressing my back against the door. I slid down to sit with my knees up and the package set beside me. For good measure, I gave myself one more pre-surgery level bath in hand sanitizer, and I knew I'd go another round once I finished opening the package.
Gravy Boat was watching imperiously from his cat tower. He lifted a paw to his mouth and gave it one lick. Somehow, I knew he was thinking I was pathetic.
But he didn't understand. My phone started buzzing when my alarm went off. The notification on the screen read, "Dolla Dolla Pills, Y'all."
I groaned at my stupid joke from months ago when I'd set up the alarm and went to the counter. I had several prescription bottles there, and it took me a full glass of water to get through the regimen of pills, vitamins, and supplements.
Little did Gary the Motorcycle Guy know, but the real jealous boyfriend was right here. Because I knew sure as shit that no guy was going to stick around as long as my condition was in the picture. Sooner or later, it'd chase even the best ones off.
But I wasn't one to wallow, so I cleared my head of all melodramatic thoughts and temptations to ruminate.
"Moonlight Caravan," I singsonged, walking over to retrieve the package I'd set by the door. "Momma is about to open you up and devour you."
Gravy Boat meowed with concern, but I shushed him.
Right now, I just wanted another nice evening with a book I couldn't wait to read. Because some part of me felt sure that if I read enough happily ever afters, it'd be easier to accept that I was never going to get my own.
2
Riggs
All I wanted was some alone time with my goddamn burrito. That, and the tasteless club soda I was working on at the bar.
But it was apparently too much to hope for.
I was only halfway through my meal when Felix and his big ass came through the entrance of The Wet Flea.
He spotted me and made his way through the crowds of howlers dancing mindlessly to the music. The Wet Flea was always loud, always packed, and always had the best food in Chicago. It was also werewolf only, and if a normie tried to find it they'd only get access to the bowling alley upstairs.
Felix eased himself into the barstool beside me, which groaned under his weight. Felix was big, even for a werewolf. He looked like he could rip a tree trunk in half with his bare hands.
Felix signaled for Jasmine to bring him a drink, then elbowed my arm softly. "Figured I'd find you here."
"Impressive deduction skills, detective."
He thanked Jasmine and took a swig of his drink, ignoring me. "Got an easy job this morning. You could tag along, unless you're having too much fun here."
I lifted my eyes from my burrito and focused on him. He was a big bastard, but we went way back. It meant I knew he wasn't nearly as scary as he looked. Not if he took a liking to you, at least.
"You spend too much time worrying about me. It's going to get you killed."
He leaned closer, meeting my eyes. "Or maybe the thing that gets me killed will be my partner continuing his love affair with burritos and club soda."
I laughed through my nose. "How long are you going to keep trying to drag me back in, anyway?"