Hey guys! This is my submission for the Tricky Raven Auction fundraiser. I'm so proud to be part of such a great cause and to be featured among some of my favourite writers in the fandom!
My winning bidder was Megan (Meliz875), who gave me three amazing prompts, of which I had to choose only one. I'd never written in this POV before, and the prompt was so good I couldn't resist. I combined both options here, because the idea of using the movie as a guideline, and the amazing Ed Sheeran song meshed pretty well together.
As a little surprise, there is also a cameo from one of my personal favourite of my own OCs. This is not a sequel to Not Your Type, but Embry needs a decent girl in his life. (Can you guess who it is?)
I also laughed hard when naming the other OC in this story. I couldn't resist and I really hope Megan likes it!
Prompt: "Wake Me Up" by Ed Sheeran
QUIL! I'd LOVE to see (from Quil's POV) just exactly how his mind comes to grips with the fact that he is, in fact, not a player...and that just maybe, he might be IN LOVE with someone. How does his brain deduce this fact? Would there be intense (on his end) conversations about what all these feelings mean with his best friend (Quembry?!) Best yet, how does he tell her? And how does she respond?
- OR -
Better yet, have you seen the movie Ghosts of Girlfriends Past? Where the male lead revisits his past with ghosts of his ex-girlfriends who basically go through why he was such a bad boyfriend and why their relationship failed, and in the end, he figures out what he needs to do to get the girl he wants? OK, this doesn't have to be just like that, but I'd love to see Quil running around frantically trying to figure out why no one ever seemed to stick with him, and how he tries to validate THAT in his mind.
Maybe You're My Snowflake
Quil POV
"What is with you, man?" he asked, pausing with half his foot-long Meaty Madness in mid-air.
My own stared back at me from its little grease-paper bed. Mocking me, like it knew full well what a sexy little temptress it was and I didn't have the stones to rise to the occasion. Fuck, what is it they say about dogs being off their food? I was up shit creek with no paddle in sight.
"You look like..." He narrowed his eyes for a beat, "Like Jake did, that time Charlie Swan and Billy broke open some single-malt and over-shared about being 'single, hot and over forty'."
I groaned back pathetically. Jesus, who needs that reminder?
"Nauseous? Horrified? Like I learned something I can't un-know?"
He raised a brow. "Pretty sure 'un-know' isn't an actual word, college boy... But yeah."
"I'm in trouble, dude. So much fucking trouble." It felt like the appropriate response was a head-desk, but I regretted it as soon as I got a nice, chipotle eye-bath.
"Aw, shit." Embry's face unscrunched, automatically holding out a paper napkin. "What did you do this time? You know there's only so many times you can be done for indecent exposure and have Jake and I sweet-talk the Chief into letting you off. People have started calling it 'Pulling A Quil.'"
He rolled his eyes when I puffed up proudly, one hand scrubbing my injured eye. "They are?"
"Not exactly something you can stick on your résumé, bro."
"It should be. 'Specially if you've got the wagon I'm draggin'."
"Oh, I forgot about your campaign for Rear of the Year," he muttered, taking a bite at last and studying me as he chewed. "Seriously, what is it?"
"I think," I said, breathing steady. Come on, Q-dawg, you can say it out loud. "I think I'm in... Love."
.
So, laying half-naked on my belly with morning breath to rival Leah's dragon fire (okay, well, it's not flammable, or smelly, but that chick's got to have the ability to breathe flame, I swear) is probably the worst possible time to reach an epiphany.
I know, I know, you're sitting there thinking 'Quil? Epiphanies? He's, what, some kind of deep-thinker now?' And to that I say, first of all, screw you, I have lots of hidden depths and shit. I have a 2.6 GPA and cried at Marley And Me (so did Paul), so there's more to me than a pretty face and a panty-dropping body. You better believe it. And second of all, thank you, yes, I am pretty enough to pull off stupid, if I wanted.
Anyway, back to my epiphany. It was morning. All the little birdies were waking up from their little birdy-beds and singing their little birdy-songs and I, well, I was in bed with a chick. Awake. She was still sleeping. And I was... Watching her.
Watching her sleep.
Before you say something about a certain douchey vampire and his creeper tendencies, I was there by invitation, and I had just woken up to the press of little, icy, pink-painted toes to my calf.
You see, this kind of situation isn't new for me. Let's just say there are plenty of attractive young ladies in the area who have had a dose of Ateara Lovin' and I have plenty of satisfied customers, if I do say so myself.
They're not, like, actual customers. I ain't no Rent-a-Dick (wait, is that the term, or does that mean private investigator? Hmm. Well, I'm not either one of those).
What many of my Pack brothers completely under-utilised when we won the genetic lottery all those years ago, was our physical transformation. I'm not talking about the furry one, I mean the one where we all - lets face it - look like we spend forty hours in the gym every week and spend the rest of our time oiling up our abs and dry-humping middle-aged women with dollars stuffed in our very manly g-strings.
We look like male strippers, is what I'm trying to say.
So yeah, the rest of the guys either imprinted and got engaged (Sam, Jared, Paul); mooned over their high school crushes and eventually made them realise how desperately in love they were by way of earth-shattering vision-kiss (way to be different, Jake); found a sweet, decent chick who was actually trustworthy enough to let in on the Secret (Seth, Embry); or fucked around a little with whoever caught our eye (Collin, Brady, I guess Leah too, and yours truly).
My track record is pretty... Expansive. I mean, I have about a 60 percent success rate with getting girls naked.
So yeah, me waking up in bed with a lady friend is no new territory for me. There have been names thrown around, unflattering stuff like 'man-whore', 'Slutty Q', 'walking gonhorrea incubator' (which is kind of unfair, we wolves are not receptacles for any of those nasties you hear about in health class, Leah) but none of it had really got to me. My mom says that I should be careful of having a reputation like that, because when I do meet The One, she might get put off. I was never sure I agree, I mean, Paul did okay. Of course, yeah, there was an imprint involved there and part of me thinks Rach just likes to make her little brother super uncomfortable, but love is love, and it's not like I'd care if whoever becomes Mrs Ateara has been around, as long as that stops with me.
What you may have failed to pick up on from the scenario I painted, was that there was a difference this morning. The major red flag being was that both me and my bed-mate were still wearing clothes.
Why? Because we didn't have sex.
I'm going to just let that sink in for a moment.
It wasn't a performance issue - let me put a big fat NO to where your mind was going with that one. Lil' Q has - and hopefully never will - had zero problems in that particular department. No, the thing is, last night - and I don't use this term lightly - was probably the most amazing night of my life.
It didn't go as I'd expected it to, if you'd asked me yesterday. At all.
This girl had been on my radar for a while. I'm taking some classes in Peninsula while I figure some stuff out. I know, yeah, I'm twenty-six years old, I should probably have this shit locked down already, but I think protecting my homeland from threats of leeches, assisting with treaty negotiations with other packs (who knew there were werewolves in Iowa?) and being a general badass is a legitimate excuse to 'piss around' for a few years, as my Gramps put it. I help Jake out at the garage, since he needs all the help he can use getting it off the ground, so it's not like I'm a bum or anything, and someone needs to remind Em that his youth didn't end the day he got hired as a deputy. He'd be lost without me on ride-alongs.
So the girl, right. She was in my psych class. Kind of ridiculously beautiful, intelligent, intimidating because of that intelligence, and completely, ball-bustingly my type. Except... Yeah. Maybe too smart, because she took one look at me and narrowed her perfect green eyes as if she saw through me like a wet paper towel. It was...eerie. I tried talking to her after class that first day, you know, introducing myself, making small talk, laying the foundations for devastating her with my charm (read: abs). She responded by telling me she already knew me because I'd fucked her roommate last semester and they referred to me as 'Sock Dude' thereafter, because I'd managed to leave one of mine outside the door of their apartment in my haste to leave.
Yeah, shitty first impression.
I counted it as a loss. It happens, and I wasn't going to go losing sleep over it, except... except Green Eyes was everywhere.
I literally couldn't go a full day without seeing this girl, be it sitting in the the one comfy chair of the library, feet draped on one puffed-up arm and one shoe dangling off her toes gracefully, as she devoured a book that probably weighed half as much as her; handing out condoms during Sexual Health week, glaring at guys veering a wide arc past her while muttering about those being 'too scared to take condoms from strange girls shouldn't be trying to sleep with them'; sitting with the hipster guitar-douches as they jammed in the common area, even joining in and making them look like finger-less hobos; promoting a fundraiser for freaking wolf conservation outside the science department...
The more I saw of this girl, the more beautiful and interesting she became. Her hair was dark, but if it caught the light in certain ways, there were flecks of red in there. Her skin was somewhere between olive and light tan and if I were a poetic dude, this chick's lips were sonnet-worthy. She didn't take shit from anybody; I'd seen her practically chew out a TA because the essay peramaters were vague and she hadn't strictly gone off-brief, so demanded her A grade. Don't even get me started on her scent. Warm honey and coffee, vanilla and something I have no idea what to name but it's freaking nice, okay?
It was like the universe was trying to fuck with me by sending me the hottest, most mysterious, most interesting girl I'd ever encountered and she didn't want anything to do with me.
Even if I wanted to make a move, she was always surrounded by people. Everywhere she went there was a group of around six friends constantly around her which made actually trying to fix her opinion of me fucking impossible.
Four months in, I'd resigned myself to the fact that this girl was probably out of my league (something I usually equate with admitting defeat) and I'd just have to make do with the plethora of willing ladies I could spend my time with. Plethora.
It was going freaking swimmingly until one night last month. Last month when I finally gave up trying to write a nightmare of a term paper and decided to eat my fill of blueberry muffins. Sometimes you just need the home comforts, and Emily refused to give me any more than five at a time.
The coffee shop closest to the library looked like a dump. I'd never darkened the door before, since the place usually smelled like stressed freshmen and over-steamed milk - but as soon as I dodged the guy trying to run through the glass door on the way out and stepped inside, I felt like ripping my own foot off and kicking myself with it. (Would that stick back on? Research into our healing abilities is seriously lacking.)
I was internally threatening self-harm because Green Eyes was standing by the register... With an apron on. She'd fucking worked here all this time (if the constant coffee scent was a clue) and I'd had no idea.
I was caught so off-guard by seeing her that, I'm not ashamed to admit it, I choked. Instead of going up to her and turning the charm on like I'd done a thousand times before, I just hovered in the freaking doorway like a bouncer at a strip club.
After what felt like forever, but was probably only about fifteen seconds, Green Eyes told the dude by the register that she was going on break and headed out the double doors behind the counter, untying her apron as she went. I couldn't leave, not for anything, so I forced myself up to the guy and ordered a black coffee and a muffin. Yeah, one muffin.
I almost choked on it when she came back out with her laptop and sat at the table behind me.
After sneaking about four glances at her, she cracked.
"Yo, Sock Dude, quit being a creeper and either talk to me or move it along," she said, not even looking up from her keyboard. My jaw slackened for a second before I clamped it shut.
"Just wondering what the hell that laptop ever did to you to make you treat it so badly," I snapped back before I could stop myself. This was what my flirting had been reduced to? "You're typing. Not sending Morse Code."
One side of her mouth lifted in a smirk, and it was fucking frustrating as it was gorgeous because she was seriously messing with my game.
"Well, shit, I didn't know I was bothering those with super hearing."
Whatever the expression on my face was - because holy crap, anyone in the Pack was an old hand at acting like regular people these days and I hadn't slipped up in years - it caused a loud bark of laughter to bubble up from her throat and she slammed the laptop shut.
"Oh my god, you look like you swallowed a watermelon."
"Maybe I'm just freaked out that you found out about my super powers?"
"And what might those be, detecting every single female within a ten mile radius?"
I smirked. "Among other things."
She studied me for a beat, taking a sip of her coffee. "Hmm. Pity, you're actually kind of bearable when you're not trying to channel the ghost of Hugh Hefner."
"The Heff isn't dead."
"And the very fact you just called him 'The Heff' tells me all I need to know."
"Oh yeah? What else do you know about me?" I asked, swinging my chair around and pulling it up to her table. She raised an eyebrow at my presumptuousness, but carried on.
"I know you have a serious case of Ugly Duckling Syndrome, you were probably a goofy-looking kid who grew up real nice somewhere around junior year of high school, and you've fancied yourself a player ever since."
I raised an eyebrow. Shit.
"I know you're probably the child of a single mom, because you love women and you know exactly how to speak to them. Well, not exactly, but your appearance probably bails you out of a lot of things."
"We have to make do with what we got," I said smugly, mentally filing away the backhanded compliment on my appearance. She rolled her eyes.
"I also know that you're probably a lot smarter than you let on. I think you had to grow up fast and you act like a big kid to make up for it."
"Sounds like you've been thinking about me a lot." I said, tasting my coffee. It wasn't bad, if getting cold.
"No, I just pay attention in Psych instead of texting and sleeping on my hand."
"That's kind of an invasion of privacy."
"You snore really loudly."
I feigned a look of offence. "Jesus, full of opinions, aren't you?"
She gave a shrug, a tendril of soft-looking hair falling over her shoulder. "Hey, you asked."
.
We talked until her break was over, and after that, the little cafe became more familiar to me than the library. Megan - I had to get her name because calling her Green Eyes in my head was starting to get a little creepy, even for me, and she informed me that no matter how many times I corrected her, she was still insisting on calling me Sock Dude - worked three nights a week, and for some weird reason she didn't seem to mind spending her breaks with me, despite acting like I was the bane of her existence.
We talked about everything from class to music - this chick liked some favourite bands of mine that I didn't think anyone else knew even existed - to wildlife conservation and the merits of animated movies and sports, and it was last night, during a heated debate over the Seahawks first string, that she announced that her shift had actually been over for an hour and invited me back to her place since I hadn't cowed to agreeing with her.
It was only when she fell asleep, head on my shoulder as we watched Shrek ('it's a modern classic, ignore the sequels') in her room that I realised I had gone there, willingly, with no intention of sleeping with her.
I thought about leaving. I even got up to put on my shoes... But looking at her, the soft Cupid's bow of her mouth, the flutter of her eyelashes on her delicate cheekbones, laying there in an out-dated tour shirt from Young The Giant and shuddering softly from the loss of my heat; I realised I really wanted to know what it was like to wake up next to her. So once I shucked my jeans off, I crawled back in beside her, breathed in her scent, and fell asleep.
.
Embry did what any self-respecting bro would do after hearing my tale of woe. He laughed so hard he choked on a slice of onion.
"I'm.. Oh shit," he spluttered, "I'm sorry, man, but this is what you're existential life crisis is about? You met a girl you like?"
"Not 'like', dude, weren't you listening? LOVE." I was pretty fucking devastatingly sure I loved her. I loved her dirty laugh, the way she thought, how she talked like she knew everything... I even loved how she hammered the keyboard of her laptop like it had personally offended her.
"Oh my god, your face!" he said, still laughing and throwing down his sandwich. A splotch of sauce came up to hit the badge on his chest, and he stuck a finger in his mouth before wiping it off. "It's like watching a chimp trying to do algebra."
I scowled and threw a soiled napkin at him. He held up a hand and regained his composure. The dick.
"Quil, it's not a fucking disease, okay? You're not going to die from it, and if this is about the imprint-"
"It's not about Claire," I replied with conviction. "Claire's like my baby sister. She simultaneously thinks I'm an idiot and a superhero. I'm not worried about mystical forces suddenly changing how we both feel once she hits eighteen."
"Yeah, but I've been in your head, dude, a long time now, and I know you never get close to anyone because there's some weird... loyalty with your wolf. You think loving someone else is going to somehow affect the bond you have with her. I'm telling you that it won't. You said it yourself, she's your baby sister, and there's room in your life for someone else."
"I know. I know, you're right... But I come with baggage. A lot of it. What if she doesn't get along with Claire? What if she freaks out when I tell her about the Pack?"
"What if she doesn't love you back because she thinks you're a wannabe lothario...?" he finished, that one eyebrow raised knowingly like the stupid perceptive jerk he was.
"Maybe."
"Dude, we all come with baggage. It's called relationships. You tell each other crap and hope it's not the final straw, and you turn a blind-eye to who they were before you met," he sighed. "Give me your phone."
"What? Why! You can't call Megan-"
"I'm not. I'm calling the one person able to talk to you on a maturity level you understand..."
.
"Oh my gosh, you LOVE her! Tell me what she's like. Tell me everything! Oh my gosh, this is so exciting! I thought I was going to have to build you an apartment over my garage and change your diapers when you got old and-"
"Holy shit. Claire, baby, please breathe."
"How do you expect me not to be excited about this?! This is huge!"
"I know, okay, it is, but you freaking out about it isn't helping."
She slumped back in her seat, trying to exude calm but I could still hear her heart racing and her knee was jiggling like she'd dropped some pills she was definitely too young to be experimenting with.
"Okay, yes I'm sorry. Take your time, I'm all ears."
I furrowed my brow at her.
"What? I can be mature and empathetic, it's a great quality in a therapist."
"Is that what it is this week? You're thirteen, I'm not expecting you to be mature about anything."
"I'll have you know, Debbie broke up with her boyfriend last week and she said I totally helped her through it."
"Boyfriend?!" I spluttered. "You guys are dating now?"
She shot me with a long-suffering glare. "Quil, I've been on three dates with Cody Green already. I didn't tell you before because I knew you'd get all Jacob about it."
I scrunched my nose. "Overbearing and protective? That's just offensive. And you know Jake can't help it, he's the alpha, it's his job to worry, and be a stubborn ass while he does it."
Claire's eyes widened. "Can you imagine if Bella wasn't around? She's the only one who can calm him down when he gets all-" she clawed the air and grimaced, "Raaaagh."
I smiled - it was true. "His fiancée is six months pregnant. You know he's not normally like that."
"Yeah but the other day, she just smiled at him and he melted like butter." She looked at me fondly. "You should have that. They're not imprints either. It's totally possible, I believe in you."
"I think you're getting ahead of yourself, Claire-Bear."
She frowned at the nickname. "Not if I have anything to do with it," she said ominously. "Okay, so you're totally having a freak-out that this girl isn't as into you as you are into her, and you think she won't accept the real you, or that you've already been friendzoned since you didn't sleep together within four hours of meeting, so you missed your chance."
My mouth gaped.
"Imprint, remember? I totally know your deep, dark secrets. I could probably blackmail you if you had any money."
"Do you need money?"
She rolled her eyes. "No, god, stop worrying about me all the time. You and I have a job to do," she said, standing from the couch.
"What do you mean?"
"You don't know how to be with this girl now that you know she's an actual human being," she said.
"Hey, wait, you make it sound like I-"
"Sleep around all the time and barely get more than a first name?" she responded, levelling me with a look that said 'don't even try to argue'. "Never get further than a second date, either because you make such a bad first impression or you don't let yourself care enough?"
I sighed. "Alright, Uncle Phil. What's the plan?"
"We're going to talk to the women in your life that have known you longer than a college semester, and on the way there you're going to tell me exactly why this girl is good enough for you," she said, picking up her jacket. "Come on, we're going to see Aunt Emily and the others."
"You want me to talk about my feelings with a bunch of chicks?"
"Yep," she said, giving me her back as she opened the door, "Or else I tell Mama Joy all about Megan and let her handle it."
My brows hit my hairline. "Alright, fuck, I'm coming!"
.
"Kim, are you crying?" I asked, backing away discreetly and giving her a wary look. She squeaked, high pitched, into her hands.
"I'm just- oh, Quil, this is so beautiful! You met a girl!"
Emily batted her hand at Kim's forearm, eyes welling up. "Don't start, Kim, you'll set me off!"
I gave Claire a look of betrayal. "You said this would help!"
"It will!" she protested, holding her hands out, and then turned back to the girls. "Auntie Emily, Quil needs advice. He totally choked at making a move on this girl and we need to be brutally honest so he doesn't mess this up like all the others."
"All the others?" I said, offended.
Claire's eyebrows rose. "No, I mean... It was all totally intentional that you never saw any of them again," she said, giving Emily an urging look. "Right?"
Emily nodded so hard she nearly gave herself whiplash. "Yes, completely intentional. Right, Kim?"
Kim dissolved into giggles before getting a swift nudge to the ribs. "Oh! Yes, you could have settled down with any of the girls you've been with," she said, but her heart raced the way they all did when the person was lying. The girls gave each other cautionary looks.
"Oh my god," I groaned.
"Just..." Emily started, giving Claire a glance of trepidation. "If you're going to try ask her out properly? Don't give her The Look."
Kim nodded in agreement. "Yes, good advice, Katie said she didn't know if you were hitting on her or trying to sell her a car."
"What look?" I barked, frowning.
"The Leer," Kim clarified, throwing her hand up in the air dismissively. "You know the one."
"I really don't."
"Oh," all three of them said together.
.
The door opened to the sound of yelling. "Make sure it's full-fat, okay? No skimping on the goods, for our girl, Black!"
"Jeez, okay, I'm going!"
Jacob turned to give Claire and I a wide-eyed look. "Anyone would think she was the pregnant one. Poor Embry."
"I heard that!" came from the kitchen.
"I don't caaare, Alex!"
"Ice cream run?" I asked, smirking.
"Escape mission," he replied conspiratorially. "Hey, Claire-bear!" He winked at her and she shoved her hands in her pockets, smiling shyly. Jake always had that effect on women - once upon a time, I would have almost been jealous, if he wasn't head-over-tail smitten with a petite sheriff's daughter.
"Hi, Jake. Is Bella around?" Claire asked.
"She's in the nursery," he said jerking his head over his shoulder. "Come to help with the painting?"
"No, we're here for girl advice for this hopeless case."
I rolled my eyes. "Really building up my confidence here, Claire."
Jake smirked. "You've never had a problem with confidence, man. In fact, cutting you down a peg is probably part of her job."
Claire beamed. "Damn right it is."
"Is this about the girl who friendzoned you at college?" he said, turning to me.
I gaped at him. "Jesus, word travels fast, huh?"
He shrugged. "Em was here about a half hour ago. He was still laughing."
"He's such an ass- An abhorrent person," I said, glancing at Claire, who gave me an exaggerated eye roll."
"I'm thirteen, dude. You can say asshole in front of me, I'm not going to be corrupted."
Jacob laughed deeply. "Yeah, well, the first word out of my kid's mouth isn't going to be 'asshole', so tone it down, okay?" He pulled the door back to let us in.
"Uh, this kid's uncle is Paul, so it's gonna hear that word a lot in its first year," I said, and Jake gave me a shove as he passed me.
"Good point, man," he said, laughing. "Oh, try not to make Bella cry. She's having a weird day."
"Hormones!" Bella whined from the nursery. "Stop telling everyone I'm a human waterwork!"
"Of course not, honey, you're a beautiful vessel of new life!" he shouted in reply, moving backwards down the step with a wary look. "I mean it. Do not make my girl cry. I will end you," he whispered, and throwing a warning look at Claire. "No matter how cute you are."
"Aw, Jake, I didn't know you noticed," I preened, and he gave me a long-suffering glare.
"Ice cream!" was shouted from the kitchen once again, and he mimed strangulation back towards the noise.
"Good luck," he muttered, and with that, he was gone.
Alex met us in the hallway carrying a tray with half of a large pie, some plates and forks and what smelled like herbal tea.
"Howdy, lover boy! Come to unbunch your panties because you came down with a bad case of feelings?"
"We came to talk to Bells, but I guess since you're here, you're going to weigh-in with your opinion," I grumbled.
Alex shot me a wink. "Don't act like I'm not your go-to for worldly advice."
"Yeah, because your college years were like an episode of Sex and the City. Except it was just you sleeping with all those men."
She raised a warning brow. "Samantha Jones is my kindred soul, don't act like you're not impressed."
I jerked my chin in begrudging agreement as we followed her into the nursery. Bella was splayed across two chairs with a colour chart propped on her swollen belly, holding up a yellow teddy-bear for comparison. She dropped it and made grabby-hands at the tea once Alex cleared the threshold.
"Yeah, okay, but you totally sold out when you got all domestic and boring with my best bro," I snarked at Alex.
"Boring? Oh, Quil, if I listed the places in our apartment Em and I haven't christened, you'd be so damn jealous."
"Enough of the grown-up sex anecdotes!" Claire whined, holding her hands up and scuttling forward to greet Bella.
"Quil! Tell us about the girl!" Bella urged as Claire hugged her, waving her arms around and barely moving under the weight of her stomach. It was adorable, but I wasn't stupid enough to tell her that. Before I could answer, Claire launched into a gushing re-telling of my story, complete with coos and snorts from Bella and Alex respectively.
"Couldn't even close the deal," Alex baited, shaking her head as she stabbed at her pie.
"I was trying to be a gentleman," I groused.
"You seem like a pussy. This girl had you in her bed and you didn't so much as kiss her. What are you, a eunuch?"
Bella fought back a smirk into her mug. "Alex, come on, you're not helping," she said. "Look, Quil, if she feels safe enough to invite you back to her place, that's a good thing. As for if she just sees you as a friend... Well.. Maybe she's kind of oblivious?"
"Like you were?" I teased, knowing Bella had struggled with the realisation that her best friend wanted to jump her bones, and had fooled herself into thinking she didn't feel the same way. "Maybe I should stage a huge battle with a bunch of vamps and threaten to get myself killed."
She shot me a withering look. "He was sixteen and over-dramatic," she defended, as Alex and Claire laughed. "It still worked, though. After he kissed me, he wasn't just Jake anymore, he was Jacob." She almost shuddered, and I could tell from the far-off, hungry look in her eye that the hormones weren't just making her teary.
She snapped back out after way too long. "I think you just need to find the balance between being a creepy womaniser, a douchebag, and an unthreatening brother-figure."
There was a concurring nod from the other two girls.
"Jokes aside, man, if she's spending time with you willingly, that's good," Alex said. "Just don't ruin it by coming on too strong with the charm. She'll start seeing you as two different guys and wondering which one is the real one.
"Any idea how I go about that?" I asked all three of them.
There was a thoughtful silence and then Claire said, "I think we need to figure out what you've done wrong in the past, what's off-putting, and then do the opposite."
"And how the hell do I find that out?"
Alex and Bella shared a look.
"You need to talk to someone who's kind of been in Megan's shoes, and she'll tell you why it didn't work out."
"And who the hell is that?
.
"Leah, stop laughing," Claire hissed through her teeth, sending a glance my way.
Leah was slumped against the wall of the Rez Centre, cell-phone clutched to her chest and wiping her eyes with the heel of one hand. There were people filing in and out, carrying tables, chairs, boxes and platters of covered food.
"Oh, fuck," she shrieked. "Thank you so much for that, I needed the laugh!"
Clenching my jaw, I shook my head. "This is useless."
Claire tried again. "Leah, we just need some advice for not messing this up, okay? You're the closest thing he has to an ex who will still talk to him."
She seemed to get her breath back and glared at me. "Hey, fuck no! Just because we got drunk and made out at Sam and Emily's wedding does not make me an ex-girlfriend," she said sharply. "I can't believe you told the kid that!"
Claire sighed. "Everybody knows about that. I saw you drag him into the broom cupboard."
Leah actually flushed. "Oh, Jesus... You make one bad decision around here and it comes back to bite you in the ass."
I looked at her indignantly. "Bad decision? Gee, thanks so much, Lee."
She huffed out a sigh. "Ugh, look, I'm far too busy today with the Craft Fair to deal with your lonely hearts crisis."
"Please, Leah?" Claire begged, giving her the freaking Disney chipmunk eyes. Those never failed. Leah sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Alright," she said, thinking, "Look, you give off this vibe like you're hot shit. Despite popular belief, no girl wants to feel like she should be grateful you're giving her the time of day. If this chick is as great as you say she is, don't go around acting like you got 'hoes in different area codes'."
Claire's brow crinkled and she turned to me. "You said that?"
"Once, I said it once. And technically it's true."
"Oh my god," Leah groaned, slapping a hand to her forehead before she peered at me. "You know why I hooked up with you at the wedding? Because I knew nothing more would come of it. You make it seem like you have a phobia of commitment. If you show this girl that you're actually a decent person under about seven layers of bravado-"
"He's done that," Claire said proudly, puffing up next to me. "Sort of."
"Yeah well, since you haven't jumped her yet, she's probably thinking you're not into her that way. You need to make a gesture." She held out a hand to the building. "Invite her to the fair tomorrow. Let her see you around the Pack or something, introduce her to Claire. I hate to say it, but you two are stupidly adorable with the doting-big-brother thing. Show that you actually do maintain other healthy relationships without sleeping around."
"That's not a bad idea," Claire said thoughtfully. "Hey, aren't some of the proceeds going to the wolf refuge down-state?"
"Yep," Leah said, and Claire's eyes lit up.
"Perfect!"
.
"She's not going to show," I gritted out, handing Chief Swan a coffee from the refreshment stand.
"She will. If she stands you up, she's a bitch who doesn't deserve you anyway," Claire said confidently. The sheriff gave me a weird look.
"You alright, kid? Lookin' a little green around the ears."
"He's got a date and he thinks she's going to stand him up," Claire explained, putting his dollar in the jar.
"Ah, well, parking's a nightmare on the way into the Rez. Maybe she got stuck looking for a spot."
"Maybe," I said not really buying it. She was supposed to get here an hour ago, and hadn't so much as texted to explain.
I focused on making nice with the people who had shown up to support the fair and tried not to spend too much time watching the door. Of course, as soon as I looked away, that's when she decided to show - and she had company.
"Welcome to the Annual Quileute Craft Fair! Do you need an escort around the stalls? Pretty lady like yourself shouldn't be all alone in a big crowd like this."
Claire put a hand on my arm to hold me back, because I was already trying to hold in a growl.
"Chill, dude, I got this." She rounded the refreshments stand and called out, "Hey, Collin? This chick, Brandy, was it? Maybe Bailee? Anyway, she was looking for you a second ago, said something about the tests results being back?" Her face was the picture of innocence, and all colour drained from Collin's.
"Oh my god, which one was it? Brandy or Bailee?!" he demanded, already half-running away. Megan just watched after him, speechless, as Claire walked up to her.
"Hey there. You're Megan, right?" she said, offering her hand. "I'm Claire." She gave her a huge grin and Megan could do nothing but return it, confused.
"Uh, hi, yeah. Are you a friend of Quil's?" She hadn't spotted me yet, and I took the opportunity to just watch her, graceful and gorgeous in sneakers and green dress that matched her eyes.
I was so fucking gone.
"I'm practically his little sister and he's told me all about you," she smiled, linking arms. "In fact, I'll take you to him now if you want."
"That'd be great," she said, sounding relieved. "I'm so late it's ridiculous. Traffic was hell on the way in here."
Score one for Chief Swan.
I could hear them approaching through the crowd, but old Mrs Littlesea appeared in front of me before I could focus too much on it.
"Do you have any ginger beer, son?" she asked, smiling fondly. She was a sweet old lady I'd known since practically birth, but her timing couldn't be worse.
"Uh, no," I said distractedly, turning my attention back to the stall. "But my mom made her homemade lemonade if you'd like some of that?"
"Well, sure," she said, and I could see Megan and Claire approaching from the corner of my eye, talking amiably. I could feel the wolf settling inside me, the sight of my imprint and the girl we wanted together at last.
"You are just the spitting image of your father," Mrs Littlesea cooed, like she did every time we spoke, as I handed her a cup. Megan reached the stall and I couldn't help grinning at her, my blood humming that she'd actually showed.
"He was a handsome boy, too. Not so many muscles, though. You be careful you don't spend too much time on those weights, Quil, you're getting beefy."
Megan's lips pressed together in a smirk, and I felt my ears burning.
"I think he looks okay," she interjected, and Mrs Littlesea looked between us.
"Oh well, I suppose there's only one opinion that really matters," she said knowingly. "You treat him well, miss. He's a good boy."
Megan nodded, "He sure is."
There was something in the way she was looking at me, and in that moment I realised that, after all my angsting and whining over the last two days, it was for nothing. Megan was in to me. I didn't know if it was as much as I was in to her, but it was a start, right?
"Hey," I said softly, knowing full well I was grinning like a love-sick idiot.
"Hey yourself," she said, smiling. "Sorry I'm late, it's like a circus out there."
"Are you late?" I said, feigning ignorance. "I was too busy to realise."
I tried leaning on the table, but decided against it, and had a mild internal freak-out that I didn't know what to do with my hands.
"I mean, not that I didn't care or anything, because I did, I totally wanted you to show up, and I'm glad you did, because... Because of the wolves, and everything, and you wouldn't stand the wolves up, because, you know, cute fuzzy cubs needing protection and all and, yeah so... here you...are.."
Oh, fucking smooth, Ateara.
"So," Claire interrupted with a frown, thankfully. "Embry just got here, so he can take over the stand, and I hear rumours there's funnel cake outside. Can we get there before Bella shuts it down? Jake's bought her like three already." Her eyes widened so seriously that I laughed.
"I'm gonna take a wild guess and say you spent your allowance on toe-rings or something."
She shifted her feet guiltily. "Actually, it was an ankle bracelet, and this really cute coin purse Miss Call made.. Plus there's this really adorable necklace on Jake and Seth's stand that would look great with my-"
"Alright, jeez, take a breath," I grumbled fondly, as Megan watched between us, bemused. I turned to her. "Can I interest you in some fried heart-attack fuel?"
"Fried is the best kind," she said in mock seriousness, slipping her hand into mine. My wolf preened.
.
Claire disappeared off about an hour later - having not-so-subtly sung my praises as a potential boyfriend and charmed the pants off Megan - with some lame excuse about Billy Black's whittling demonstration. She had a brand new necklace gleaming around her neck and I took the opportunity to go in for the kill - taking Megan for a walk along First Beach at sunset.
It seemed fool-proof until freaking Lauren Mallory showed up on the path there.
"Hey, Quil," she purred, eyes roving over me like she was picturing exactly what I looked like naked. I swear, you sleep with someone once when you're twenty and it's like they own you for life.
"Lauren," I said tightly, willing her not to say anything in front of Megan. Please don't ruin this.
"I was hoping for some warm body-heat at the bonfire later, but it looks like my seat's taken," she pouted, eyes ticking to Megan and back.
"Uh, yeah, I would say sorry, but.." I squeezed Megan's hand and raised both of ours a little. Back off.
"No matter, I'm sure I'll get my chance again. You have my number, Quil," she said, lips curving as she slinked past. My jaw clenched.
"You be sure to take a hint, Lauren," I muttered under my breath. Megan was watching after her with a look of disdain, and I gently tugged her onwards, wondering how the hell I could fix this.
Silence descended as we reached the beach, and I sucked in a breath of sea air through my nose, trying to calm my hackles back down. I could feel Megan's gaze on me, and I gave her a weary look. She let out a breath and started walking, heading down the beach.
"So I bet you guys have some awesome tide pools here, huh?" she said over her shoulder, smoothing over the subject. I furrowed my brow for a second and then jogged to catch up.
"Uh, yeah... You like starfish?" I asked.
Lame. So freaking lame.
.
We were huddled around a shallow pool, stirring the water to drum up a few shy crabs while I identified those I could remember my Dad naming for me, when I noticed Megan had gone silent.
I glanced up to see her watching me, a thoughtful look on her face.
"I bet Claire just ate all this stuff up when she was little," she said, smiling fondly.
"Uh, yeah. She still does, you know, when she's not talking like she's seventeen and whining about shoes," I said, chuckling.
"She really looks up to you."
I scratched the back of my neck awkwardly. "I guess. I mean, I've known her since she was practically a baby," I explained. "We're both only-kids. She lost her parents when she was seven and moved here to live with her aunt. It was tough on her, so she grew up quickly and I think the maturity level was pretty much even with us since then. We just... connect. She's just a kid, but she's one of my best friends."
I didn't know how to put it without sounding weird. We're mystically bonded to each other because some spirits thought we'd balance each other out, and they were right.
"She's adorable," she said, smiling.
"Yeah, just wait until she figures out you think that. She'll make you her bitch. I don't even know how many times I took her down here just because she demanded it."
There was a thoughtful pause before she spoke again. "Ever take anyone else down here?" She asked, her eyes trained back on the water. I bit my lip frustratedly, knowing where this was headed.
"No, nobody."
"Not even the blonde with the double-d's?
"Who, Lauren?" I asked, wishing some nasty STD on the Mallory chick. "No way. Lauren was..." I trailed off, wondering how I could put it without sounding like a douchebag. "Lauren was what twenty-year-old me thought I was looking for in a woman."
"And now?" she asked tentatively.
I looked straight into those impossible green eyes, now looking almost grey in the fading sunlight, and the filter around what I was feeling melted away.
"Now I know better," I said. "I know that someone can be extremely beautiful as well as smart and funny. There doesnt have to be a compromise. They can be passionate and frustrating and make you feel like a stuttering idiot who's never talked to another woman in his life. They can let you sleep beside them and you'll find yourself not want anything more than to wake up the next morning with them in your arms, and you don't care if that's all that ever happens, because you know you're just about lucky enough to take what you can get, as long as they'll let you be around them."
I looked away, poking a finger into the sand.
"But if they wanted more, that'd be pretty fucking amazing, too."
There was silence for a long moment, and I was afraid to look up, afraid to breathe, to do a single thing until I felt soft, delicate hands resting on my cheeks, urging my gaze up. I braced myself, because I'd said more than I'd ever planned to, and I didn't think I'd sounded like a leery douchebag, like the girls had told me, but something in me cowered that I'd come on too strong. That she didn't feel the same and I'd ruined any chance of even being friends.
I opened my eyes to take her in again, and her gaze darted between my own.
"Oh, thank fuck," she breathed, and pressed her lips to mine.
My chest swelled with a surge of love, satisfaction, that feeling of finally, yes, please, more.
I wound my arms around her and clutched her body to me, one foot slipping into the tide pool and getting drenched, but I didn't give a crap. She was kissing me. She wanted me and for once I hadn't fucked it up by getting scared or not treating her right. My wolf was howling.
Eventually we had to break apart for breath, and I pressed my forehead to hers, savouring the scent, the proximity, the sound of her heartbeat racing in my ears. I smiled, and she gave me a breathless grin.
"I thought you just wanted to be friends," she confessed hazily. "I was so sure you'd make a move... You were in my bed, dude, and when I woke up and you were gone I took it as a hint."
I shook my head, pressing a kiss to her lips. I could do that now. I wanted to roll around in wolf form and offer her my belly.
You are done for, man.
"I chickened out... I wanted to. Oh holy shit, did I want to. But I've never... felt this way. About anybody. I didn't know what to do with it. I choked."
She kissed me again, and I couldn't let her pull away until we were breathless.
"You could have done this, this is good," she said, and then pressed her forehead to my shoulder.
I huffed out a laugh. "Noted. I'll do a lot more of that, since you're clearly insatiable. I got the moves."
She narrowed her eyes at me, and it was so ridiculously endearing I wanted to kiss her all over again.
"Let's not undo all our hard work here, Sock Dude," she said unfolding her legs and moving to stand. "Now come on." She offered me her hand and I took it, jumping to my feet.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"Bonfire's starting," she said, walking with determination. "We need to go snuggle obnoxiously and show Blondie that her seat is well and truly taken."