You guys love Big Brother/Jealous Seth, and this chapter is full of it.
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Seth
Katie knows Adam a full two weeks before I have the chance to meet him. It's the last week of March, and it means our lives are going to get super busy, super fast. There's so much going on in La Push that sometimes it feels like Katie and I are in a snow globe. A snow globe in the hands of a toddler.
Jacob's pressing to get his cabin done before Sam and Emily's baby makes an appearance, which means it's crunch time for everyone. The cabin is nearly done; painting is on the docket this weekend, and then it's all little stuff Jacob can do himself (light fixtures, hardware, light switch covers).
I think Nessie's more excited than Jacob, but I try not to think about her reasoning. If I had to guess, it's probably similar to one of the reasons I don't like Adam. Also the reason Katie came home with cherry red cheeks a few weeks ago and could hardly look Leah in the eye the next time we saw her.
I'm actually surprised I got to see Katie at all lately, because she's been working nonstop on her stupid photography portfolios of Leslie and Jordan. I'll be glad when this class is over; it's taking a lot out of her. Her sanity and free time, mostly.
I've been working extra hours at the lumber yard here and there, which is another factor contributing to me missing Katie so much. I'm hoping I can convince her to take a vacation this summer – I've been thinking Utah or California so we can knock out a few more national parks. I haven't brought it up yet, because I haven't had a conversation with Katie that lasts longer than five minutes in weeks.
The last one we had was this morning when we were both getting ready for work. She casually mentioned, toothbrush in mouth, that she applied for a job in Portland she didn't think she was going to get. But she did (because of course she did, it's Katie).
"It's okay, though, because I'm not going to take it," Katie had mumbled.
"Wait, what?" I'd asked from the shower. "Portland?"
"It's fine, Seth," I'd managed to make out through her mouthful of toothpaste. "I just wanted to see if I could."
"Do you want it? The job?" At this point I was desperately trying to rid myself of suds so I could look into her eyes.
"It's in Portland," she'd reiterated. "We'd have to move."
Finally free of soap, I'd turned the water off. "That's not what I asked."
She'd spat her toothpaste just as I finished wrapping a towel around my waist. "You have the pack. I have school." Her phone had chimed, and she'd groaned. "It's too early for my boss to already be texting me. I'm going to stop for coffee on my way to PA."
Katie had tiptoed up then, expecting a kiss, but I pulled back before our lips connected. "You promise you don't want it?" I'd asked.
She'd laughed, closed the distance anyway. "Promise," she'd breathed against my lips, and left me with a kiss so searing I thought I would have to get back in the shower.
Now, I'm on the way to have lunch with my sister's imprint, because he wants to "meet" and "talk" and "get to know me", according to Leah. She arranged it, and she told me she'd be checking in periodically to make sure I didn't kill him. For some reason I don't think Adam got the same warning.
Adam's already inside when I get to the restaurant, nursing a beer. Beers at lunch, strike one.
But I draw closer, and I notice there's one waiting for me, too. I downgrade it to half a strike.
"Adam, hey, I'm Seth," I say. Although I know him well (and intimately, thanks to Leah), he doesn't know me. I extend a hand and remember my manners. "Good to meet you."
"Seth," he says in recognition, returning my handshake with a firm grip. "Likewise. I hope you don't mind. Figured a beer would help ease off the nerves."
Is he nervous, too? He looks like he's on the edge of his seat, smoothing his hand across his chin and the stubble there. That would certainly explain the beer. Maybe it will help loosen the tight knot at the base of my neck. Maybe.
I slide into the booth across from him. "Good idea."
"Was the drive up okay?" he asks. His voice sounds different in my ears than it does in Leah's memory. I wonder how Katie sounds to other people. Does she not sound like wind chimes to everyone?
"Not too bad," I say with a shrug. My shoulders want to stay by my ears, and it takes a long swig of beer and deliberate effort to relax them again. "Just the rain, but you know. That's normal for here."
After a few minutes of talking about nothing in particular, the waitress comes over to take our order. I was so keyed up I forgot to look at the menu. "The biggest burger you have, please," I say, "and some fries."
"I'll do the same," Adam says, and after the waitress leaves, he clears his throat. I think he's going to say something, but his mouth closes again.
I reach for my beer to fill the awkward silence. Katie said she found Adam easy to talk to, but I don't think I agree just yet. Why is he so at ease with Katie, but so uptight with me?
His beer is half gone, mine close behind, before he says, "Tell me about Leah."
My eyebrows push together. "What do you want to know?"
"Everything," he says. "What was she like when she was little? Is she allergic to anything? What's her favorite flower?"
I'd come to this diner in Port Townsend (about halfway between La Push and Seattle) expecting to get to know him, even if reluctantly. But Adam has ulterior motives.
Somehow, suddenly, the roles have been reversed. I'm the one with the power here, and I don't know whether to feel guilty about it. It's so conflicting, Leah being in love with this guy. I want my sister to be happy – she deserves it more than anyone I know – but at whose expense? Her own? Last I checked, Adam is still married.
"What makes you think you get access to those pieces of her?" I say before I can check my filter. Whatever this beer is, it works fast.
I don't regret my words, even as his face twists. "I'm sorry?" Adam says, coughing. He covers it with a heavy chug of his drink, and motions to someone behind me for another.
"Have you left yet?" I ask. "Or at least told your wife about her?"
"No," he murmurs. "I will. I'm going to." He shifts in his seat, slinking down a few inches, and I take his offered height, sitting up taller.
"When?" I sound demanding and harsh. It's probably because I am.
It could have been anyone but Adam. There are, what, two billion other eligible bachelors on earth that my sister could have loved. And she picked (okay, fine, the universe picked) this one, the one who can't put his money where his mouth is and buck up. Dad would have hated him just for that. Or, at the very least, this impossible situation he's thrust Leah into.
Sister's imprint, the angel on my shoulder says. You can't hurt him.
He's still married, doofus, the red-horned devil says from the other shoulder. That gives you a right to want him dead.
"When what?" Adam asks, his voice trailing off when the waitress drops off a fresh beer for him.
"Seriously?" I ask. It's Leah's favorite word to use when someone should know they sound ridiculous.
"I'm going to leave. We've just been married for so long. Our whole lives are together. We only have joint bank accounts, her car's in my name. Life insurance policies, health care, mutual friends. Everything I own is fifty percent Allison's. Do you know how hard it is to tear those things apart?"
I want to ignore everything he's saying, but one thing sticks out in my mind. Stabs my gut like a knife.
Allison.
I'm not even sure Leah knows her name. Now I feel like I'm fraternizing with the enemy, being privy to information my sister isn't. I wish he hadn't made the slip.
"Have you tried? To tear those things apart, I mean." My voice is softer now. Did putting a name to a faceless person make this more real for me?
Adam seems to pick up on it, too, readjusting and slowing down on his drink. "I've looked into it, honest," he says. I believe him. "But you can't tear apart the things without tearing apart the person you share them with. And she is still a person, you know?"
And just like that, the hint of compassion is gone, replaced by anger. "And Leah isn't?" My fingers are tight around my glass, and I know if I squeeze much harder, I'll shatter it. Rage apparently doesn't mix well with alcohol.
He pales. "Wrong choice of words." He rubs his chin with his fingers so harshly, I hear the stubble scrape across each groove of his fingerprint. "Look, Seth, I get what you're trying to do here, but this is harder than you think. Leah said you've only been married since the summer. You're still in the honeymoon stage. I've been married for close to ten years. Practically all of my adult life."
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "You can't measure love with time." Okay, that was really lame. It sounds like something Katie's mom would say. But it's true, isn't it? I've only known Katie for a year and a half, but the thought of my life without her…
The thought of her not choosing me.
It's what Leah feels; I felt her feelings the day she told me about Adam. The raw ache in her chest, the tired muscles, the distractions, the urges to just go and be where he is. He's the only person who can fix it, and he doesn't even know.
It makes me want to tell Adam everything. Maybe it would make a difference, encourage him to choose Leah. But I know as soon as I have the thought that it wouldn't go well, me spilling the wolf secret and the imprint secret. If Adam didn't kill me, Leah certainly would.
What I decide on is, "She's in love with you."
He doesn't need to answer verbally, because his face does that for him. His eyes widen, then narrow, and widen again. His jaw goes slack, and his hand returns to rubbing his stubble. His heart is racing in his chest. "She—she said that?"
"I know you know about all the hurt she's felt in her life. Our dad. Our cousin and her ex." Adam doesn't say anything (he must still be having a heart attack), so I keep talking. "And despite all that, she is still funny and stubborn and cynical. And the best person on the planet.
"She doesn't need this, especially from you. Of all the people on earth my sister could have picked, I don't know why it had to be you."
He balks. "I told her up front about my marriage, on day one. If she wanted to walk away, she could have."
I give a dry laugh that contains no humor and finally give myself over to my eye roll. "It's not that easy."
"What does that mean? Of course it's that easy," Adam says, his confusion wrinkling his forehead.
The waitress comes to drop off our food before I have time to admit that no, it isn't that easy. Leah would walk across hot coals for this man, this man who can't be bothered to call a lawyer because it's complicated.
"Do you need anything else?" the waitress asks hesitantly. Is the tension surrounding this table really that palpable?
"My check. And a box," I say, pulling my glare away from Adam to find her eyes. It takes effort to soften my expression, but I think I manage it. "I'd like to take this to go, please."
She nods, scurrying off, and I steel my gaze on Adam again.
"You don't have to go," he says.
"All I'm asking is for you not to be just another thing that hurts her," I say. "She'll handle it, but she shouldn't have to." I scoop my beer off the table and chug the rest, even the taboo last inch. The waitress appears with a box and my check, and I nod in thanks.
"Maybe we should just not talk about Leah," Adam tries.
I wipe my mouth on the back of my hand. "If you don't want to talk about Leah, then…" I say, pulling out my wallet and grabbing some bills. I need to tip our waitress well; I have a new appreciation knowing what Katie puts up with. "I don't really have anything else to say to you."
Adam doesn't say anything until I'm already in my truck. "Can I get another beer?" he asks the waitress.
I don't get the chance to tell Leah about my conversation with Adam. I have to work a shift at the lumber yard Saturday, and by the time I get to the cabin late that afternoon, Leah and Nessie have run off somewhere. They didn't even tell Jake where they're going.
Sometimes I wish Katie didn't work the weekends. I know she feels like she's missing out on those little moments, the ones where the girls just run off to get coffee or go shopping and leave the boys to do the hard labor. Not that painting is really hard labor, but still. I mean, they left the second bedroom half finished.
Leah and Nessie still aren't back by dinner time, and when Jake dismisses us because we can't stop tripping over each other and getting in the way, I don't want to go home yet.
I drop my truck off at home before phasing and head to Forks. Katie's closing at the diner tonight, and when I can, I like to stay with her while she counts cash and cleans up. She usually lets me eat leftover pie.
When I near the diner, I shift back onto two feet, and pull my clothes on before reappearing.
Jordan's heading to the diner, too.
"Hey, man," I say, hoping the edginess in my voice isn't as sharp as I think it is. After my lunch with Adam yesterday, it sounds like I have a piece of glass lodged in my throat. "What's up?"
His eyes go wide, and his hands clench into fists before he shoves them in his pockets. "Oh, uh, hey. Seth, right?"
The way he says my name makes me almost hate it a little. I'm surprised he didn't pull out a wrong one just to grate on my nerves.
Four weeks. Four weeks until Katie's done with this guy. Honestly, I can't wait.
"Yeah," I say. "What are you doing here so late? They close in twenty minutes."
His eyes narrow, and he nods. "I know. I was going to see if Katie needed help or wanted me to walk her to her car or anything. Since it's dark."
A shimmer of anger runs down my spine, and now I find my fists clenching. "That's nice of you," I spit, "but I'm here. And if I'm not here, Larry walks her out. Can never be too careful."
He nods. "Right. I just thought—"
"You thought wrong." When did I cross my arms? What the hell is up with me this weekend? I need to try some of that yoga or tea Leah's always telling me about. Take a bath like Katie does.
If I didn't have night vision, I might have missed the way his eyes darken and his shoulders flex. But I see everything – and so does my wolf. My hackles raise.
"Look," he says, holding up his hands in surrender. "I was just looking out for a friend. I don't know if you do that on the rez or not, but here in Forks, it's the thing to do."
He sounds sincere. But is he?
"Yeah, okay," I say with a shrug. I don't want to spend this time out here when I could be inside with Katie. "Thanks for the offer. It was nice. But I've got her." Tonight. Tomorrow. Forever.
Jordan nods slowly, and his eyes flick to the diner. My eyes follow.
The diner's illuminated from the inside, and we can both clearly see Katie, bussing the bar counter while she talks to a few backpackers. They're the only customers, and Larry's leaning against the back wall, eating a slice of pie. I hope that's not my pie.
One of the customers says something Katie finds funny, because she laughs, and her cheeks fill with vibrant color.
"Well, if you're sure," Jordan says. He almost sounds anguished.
I drag my eyes away from Katie, shifting to stand in his path to the door. "I am."
"Got it." He turns, walking back in the direction he came from. He doesn't say goodbye. But what he does say is, at a volume someone with normal hearing would catch, "Dickhead."
I take a deep breath, focus in on Katie's heartbeat, and go inside to steal some pie.
There's a bonfire on the beach tonight; it's supposed to stay dry. Plus, Jacob has a bunch of scrap wood from the cabin that needs burning, and Leah added to the pile this week, axing everything she could to smithereens.
Whatever works, I guess. I wish she'd saved me something to destroy.
Katie and I walk hand in hand to the beach, talking about the Leah Situation under our breaths.
I think the Leah Situation is actually the purpose of this Friday night bonfire. And what the Leah Situation is, is also the answer to where Leah and Nessie ran off to on Saturday when they were meant to be painting.
They went to Seattle – Nessie drove; Leah panicked – and Leah showed up on Adam's doorstep and bared her soul. The wolf thing. The imprint thing. The 'I can't have kids' thing. And she asked him to pick her.
I'm proud as hell that she stood up for herself. I'm disappointed and mad as hell that Adam sent her away. I probably would have gone to Seattle myself and pulled him back by the scruff if Leah and Katie and Jacob hadn't all begged me not to. I think Jake was honestly about five seconds away from Alpha-ing me into submission.
That being said, Adam is on his seven thousandth strike.
I can hear Leah already on the beach with Nessie, and also already intoxicated. It's a coin toss as to whether she'd be able to hear us, but I don't want to take any chances.
"I feel so helpless," I say as Katie and I weave our way through the wooded path to the seashore.
Katie nods, almost tripping over a root. I right her and tuck her close to me, under my arm.
"Is there going to be alcohol at this bonfire?" she giggles. "Maybe we could have drunk sex again." She trips over another root.
I chuckle into her hair. "You're walking like you're already tipsy."
Even in the shade, I see her cheeks flame. "I might have had a little something while you were in the shower after work."
I feign shock, like I can't already smell the alcohol on her breath. "Katie Prescott, pregaming?"
She shrugs as the forest path spits us onto the rocky shore. "It's April now. Finals will start soon, and I won't have time to let loose again until the semester's over."
Down the beach, I spot most of the normal crowd gathered up around a large pile of scrap wood. I recognize the old cabinet doors I'd helped Paul and Jacob rip out of the kitchen, the wood paneling from the living room wall, and a few hacked sheets of plywood that had covered miscellaneous holes and gaps whenever and wherever it was needed.
The beach is mostly clear because it's still cold, and the sky is gray and dark like it could open up at any moment. I don't know if it could stop a wolf bonfire, though, especially once I spot the stack of pizza boxes almost as tall as Katie. There's a cooler overflowing with beer in the sand next to it.
Katie's nose scrunches when she sees it. "Beer. Gross. Never mind."
Leah laughs from her spot in the sand next to Nessie. "Don't worry, Katie. I brought wine. There is absolutely no need for us to be sober tonight."
My heart twinges. I'm fairly certain based on my last patrol (and the rumor mill of wild speculation that accompanies it) that Leah's been drowning her sorrows for most of this past week. When she's not wielding an axe, that is.
Is that better than dipping into a spiral of depression?
I know Katie feels guilty she's been too busy to help keep her company, and I appreciate Nessie and Jacob stepping up to do it. But maybe they could have found a better solution than sharp objects and hard liquor.
Katie plops next to Leah in the sand, reaching for a red plastic cup off the stack. "Yes, please."
Embry takes on the role of passing pizzas around the circle. The guys each get a whole one to themselves, and Katie picks the pepperonis off my slices before reaching for a slice of her own from the box at Leah's feet.
"Where's Quil?" Paul asks Jacob through a mouthful of food. Rachel's tucked up into his side and they're each nursing beers. "Patrol?"
Jake only nods, not bothering to waste time chewing with a verbal response.
"What about Kim and Jared?" Katie asks, her cheeks already flushed from her wine. Or the cold, maybe. Either way, I scoot a little closer to her.
"Baby watch with Sam and Em," Rachel says. She nudges Paul in the ribs. "We get tomorrow." Her enthusiasm causes Paul to groan, and the rest of the circle laughs at him.
I'm getting excited to meet Sam and Emily's baby. And not even the way I thought I would be. Instead of me thinking that Katie holding a baby will convince her we need one of our own (like I'm sure it will for Rachel), I'm just glad that things are okay, and that Sam and Emily are growing a family, and I can enjoy being Uncle Seth.
The pack dynamics are constantly changing these days – Leah imprinting proved that. We're getting to the age where things like babies and weddings are happening more than they're not. I used to think of myself as a straggler, struggling to catch up before everyone leaves me behind.
Now I'm happy just to be on the boat. Even if everyone else is one significant life experience away from jumping off. Just look at Sam.
This is the train of thought I'm on – the one where I'm looking around the circles at my brothers and sister, wondering who's going to jump ship next – when someone calls out from down the beach.
"Oh, my God," Nessie breathes, having located the caller first.
Adam Baker.
We all rush to our feet, and my eyes find Leah in a panic. Am I going to have to kill him here? Where there are witnesses? You can't kill him, Seth. It's imprinting law.
"What are you doing here?" Leah yells. She tries to sound tough, but it fades off and breaks at the end, and she gives herself away. She's trying not to cry.
I'm trying not to explode. Does he know what she's been through this week? Does he know he's destroyed her?
"I had to—have to be with you." Adam is jogging toward us now, closing the distance fast. I hope he trips. I hope it hurts.
"Why now?" Leah says, lifting her shoulders meekly. "Why not, I don't know, call me? You kicked me out of your apartment without another word. It felt like a pretty big fuck you."
It was a pretty big fuck you. Leah's right. Adam needs to be reminded of that. My hand is a fist at my side, and I swear I think I'm going to rip him apart.
A warm hand grips my forearm. Katie. I can't do anything when she's touching me. I would never risk it. Her touch flows warmth through my tense muscles, and somehow, I can't really focus on anything else. Heartbeat. Katie. Touch.
Adam finally reaches the circle but stays a few yards away. Smart man. "And what, leave a voicemail?" He throws his arms to the side. Although he has an audience, he's only speaking to Leah when he says, "I left my wife."
The circle gasps in unison, and Katie's fingernails dig into the skin of my forearm. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Leah's cup slip from her grasp. No one makes a move for it.
"The divorce papers are in my car," Adam continues, more than happy to fill the silence. "My copy, I mean. She was served hers about—" he glances at it watch— "four hours and seventeen minutes ago."
That's almost about how long it takes to drive from Seattle to La Push in Friday afternoon traffic.
"I would have been here sooner, but I went to your place first to find you. I started packing about five minutes after you left. I saw the lawyer on Monday but the earliest a judge could hear the case was today."
Monday. The first business day after our lunch. The first business day after Leah bared her soul to him in his apartment.
"I didn't want to give you the same empty promise again and come here with nothing to show. You deserve more than that," Adam says, with a shrug.
Leah takes a step, and I let her, because I don't know what to think or how to feel. "So what?" Leah says, shrugging her own shoulders like Adam had. "I just come to Seattle, tell you I'm a werewolf, and that's enough for you now?"
"You are enough for me," Adam says. I can't be sure, because my brain is still fuzzy, but I think Adam's eyes land on me before he speaks again. "You've always been enough for me."
Leah pulls back from where he's reaching for her hand. "I can't give you the life she can. I don't know if I'll ever be normal. I don't even know if I can have children, Adam, the children you want! I can't control my temper for shit, I hog the covers, I snore, I—"
"I know," Adam interrupts. He reaches for her hands again and pulls them over his heart. "And I'm in love with you anyway."
Katie's hand slips to mine, and she tangles our fingers together. I bet if I looked at her, she'd have tears in her eyes. She claims to hate romantic comedies, but apparently seeing one unfold in real life has swayed her a bit.
Bu not enough for her to want to watch Leah and Adam make up (cough: make out) on a public beach. She steps in front of me, lifting her cup and draining her wine.
I'm still reeling, still sort of fuming. But no one else seems fazed. Are we really just going to let this go so easy?
According to Katie, who's giving me a pointed look, we are.