He won’t.
Begrudgingly I agree to meet him Saturday night at The Den, Mosswood’s only bar. Then I put my phone on charge and try to get some sleep. That should be easy for me this time of year, but the reality is, I stare at my bedroom ceiling for at least two more hours before finally drifting off. My bed doesn’t smell right. I don’t smell right, and I know the particular citrusy sweet smell that’s missing.
Just as I predicted, The Den is packed. Everyone is wearing the team colors of black and green. On the tiny TV screen in the corner, the Jacks are warming up, tossing the ball and working through their stretches.
At least I don’t have to listen to the shitty commentators saying how they’re on the best losing streak they’ve ever seen and how they’re certain to maintain their perfect record.
Fuckers.
Our time will come again, I know it.
Riley slides two beers onto the high table in front of me and takes a seat on his stool. “See? Isn’t this better than watching it at home? Feel the atmosphere.”
The air is thick and tainted with phoenix smoke from the gently flaming figure in the corner with his arm slung over the back of the booth. A rowdy chant starts up at the back of the bar where a heavy-set bovine shifter cups his hands around his mouth to cheer for our local boy, Colton Hester.
Riley’s right. It should feel good being out with other Jacks fans. All I can muster when a jackal shifter at the bar loudly boos the commentary scrawling across the screen in the closed captions is a shrug. “Sure.”
My phone buzzes, and I fish it out to spot a message from my father. I blink.
Hunter:don’t get your hopes up, son. You’d have to find your fated mate and even then I’m pretty sure it’s bullshit cooked up by storytellers
No hello, no how are you. I’m too shocked by what his message says to sulk over that, though. Fated mate? Fuck. No wonder I feel hollowed out inside.
Riley takes a sip of his beer and eyes me suspiciously. “What is it?”
I drag my eyes away from the TV to meet his gaze. “Huh?”
“What is it, Bas? There’s something up with you; I can smell it.”
I take a sip of my own drink and tell myself to lighten up. I’d rather avoid the awkward explaining I’d have to do if he pressed me for the truth. “I dunno. I just can’t stand watching them lose again.” I jerk my head toward the screen.
He scowls, jumping off his stool. “Hey now. That’s no way to talk. Wash your mouth out immediately. In fact, drink up. That’s your problem. You need more beer.”
He pushes my beer toward me and won’t let up until I’ve drained half the glass.
“Better.” He nods and climbs back onto his stool. “Now, we don’t have to talk about it, but whoever she is, she’s a loser, OK?”
My hand tightens on the glass reflexively, and I set it down to avoid smashing it. It’s just Riley talking shit, but I have the inexplicable urge to put my fist into his face. “She’s not. It’s just complicated.” Then I realize what I’ve done.
Riley’s brows lift. “Ah-ha! So there is someone. Well fuck her. Or don’t, but I’m glad you’re back out there. It’s been too long since you dated anyone. You know my parents want grandkids, and I’ve always figured you’ll be the one to make them faux grandparents first. You’re the dad type.”
I take another drink to cover my awkwardness. If he only knew. I doubt Riley will ever speak to me again if I tell him I’d like to give his parents grandkids for real.
He’s still talking. “I mean, it won’t be me. I’m still too busy sewing my wild oats, and Vera’s still in school—” He gives me a weird look when I spit my mouthful of beer back into the glass.
“College.”
“Huh?”
“Vera’s graduating college this year. That’s not the same thing as being in school.” It’s messed up that I bit and mated my best friend’s little sister without her permission, but I’m not a pervert. “She’s a grown woman.”
Riley snorts. “Whatever you say. She’ll always be little baby bunny to me.”
I shake my head at the childhood nickname Vera always hated. “You know you’re an asshole sometimes, right? You should be nicer to her.”
“Why? She might be smol, but she can take a bit of ribbing.”
I open my mouth to answer, but my phone buzzes in my pocket. When I glance down I see it’s a message from Vera.
