Embry's POV

"You look nice." My mom comments from the bathroom door. She just came home from her second job, still buttoned up in her office clothes yet everything else about her is loose. She looks tire, her shoulders are hanging slightly, her hair is coming out of her bun, and she kicked off her heels by the door. Despite being so young for a mother, the years of two and sometimes three jobs has aged her sooner than she should have. My mom had grays and frown lines my whole childhood, which have only deepened and taken more dye to cover up.

"I'm not even ready yet. How do I look nice?" I question through a beard of shaving cream. I'm in a wife beater and gym shorts, with a razor to my face. She gives me a knowing smile, but it looks tired as her.

"Because you look happy." She answers, but she's not looking at me. Her eyes are drifting down the hall towards my baby pictures hanging on the walls. "You're going on a date with Winnie, right?"

"Yeah," My mom looks back at me, her grin growing when she sees me beaming.

"Long time coming." My mom comments, which I agree with a nod. "I can't wait to meet her."

"I can't either. Willow was got shy and nervous when I brought her over."

"My future daughter in law has nothing to be nervous about." My mom yawns. I try to make her dinner most nights, but a majority of the time she's so tired she often skips them to go bed earlier. By the look of her, my mom is most likely going straight to bed after I leave.

"Well, Winnie doesn't know she's my imprint yet." I clarify, finishing up my shaving without any knicks.

"But, she can feel it." My mom points out. The thought makes my chest warm, and I grin at my reflection.

"So what are you going to wear?" My mom prompts, now undoing her bun and handing me the bobbi pins to put them away in the draw.

"I'm not sure yet," I scratch the back of my head. "I was hoping if you could help me pick something out?" My mom's face softens, her smile growing at my favor.

"I'll go check in your closet." She goes off towards my room as I try to do something with my hair. I miss the long locks, where I use to be able to do buns and braids, now I have nothing to work with.

The door bell rings, but I already know whose at the door with my hearing. Where my mom use to ask me to go answer the door, we've fallen into step where she asks me whose at the door ever since I changed.

"Hey Jared," I greet him, noticing he's must have just shifted back since he's only in his shorts and barefoot. He doesn't come in like he usually does. Instead, he hovers out front with his arms crossed looking pissed, but worried.

"Embry—Hey," Jared keeps looking off towards the tree line, with his arms crossed and fists tight. He's suppose to be patrolling tonight with Paul over by the border.

"Did something happen?" I ask, already sure something has.

"Yeah, Paul's dad came back into town. We saw his car drive through, now Paul isn't changing back. I can't get him to calm down. He's storming through the forest, someone might see him." Jared explains, looking ready to run back for him. I try to listen for Paul, but he's already out of ear shot. I think I can hear the sound of tree falling a mile away. He sounds like he's heading for the center of the Res

"Did you call Sam?" I ask, trying to keep calm, but my whole body is tense.

"I don't have my phone on me. You were the closest one nearby." Jared answer, beginning to walk back to the tree line. "I know tonight is a big night for you, with Winnie and all. I'm going to go back for Paul, but could you call Sam for me? Maybe Jacob and Quil too?" Jared rushes out.

"You sure?" I call after him.

"Yeah, don't miss your date! Call Sam!" Jared disappears into the woods, yelling behind him as he rushes off to shift. I know I don't have time to hesitate, yet I hang back in the door, hearing a howl sound off. It was unmistakably Jared's, so unsure and nervous it gives me chills because Jared is never unsure or nervous.

"Hey mom," I call back into the house. "Call Sam for me!"


Winnie's POV

My hand keeps shaking as I apply my eyeliner, and it's not even near my lid yet. Dropping the liner before I can make a smudge, I allow myself a break from the mirror. I busy myself with something that I can't mess up, brushing my hair.

"Breathe, breathe," I remind myself, trying not to let myself over think. Once I start, I won't stop till I talk myself out of going, or convince myself Embry is pranking me or something. Before I can start questioning why Embry asked, I go back to my makeup. I'm actually pretty good at makeup, it's one of the only things my aunt taught me besides how to flirt my way out of a traffic ticket and take a shot. Yet, I'm so nervous that I can't keep my hands steady.

Hours ago when I was struggling to pick something to wear seemed harder than usual. It took me an hour to like what I had hanging in my closet. Then I thought curling my hair into loose waves would be the hard part, it's not. The closer the pick up time comes, the more nervous I get, but the more I'm looking forward to seeing Embry.


Embry's POV

I didn't wait for Paul to apologize. I didn't go home to shower off or change first. I just took off for Winnie's house. I ran so fast I got there in minutes.

"Winnie?" I knock on the door, my heart in my throat. I knock two more times, but there's no answer. "Winnie, please open the door and I'll explain why I'm late."

Checking my phone for the first time tonight, it tells me how I'm two hours late. With one missed call from Winnie, and her two text messages. The first one asks me if I was okay, and how late I was running. The second responds to her first text since I didn't answer her by stating a "oh that late."

My chest caves in, the sinking feeling filling me with nerves that practically buzzes. I really fucked up. I was so focused on hurrying I didn't think to even text Winnie before I went after Paul. The movie is probably starting about now.

"Winnie, please just come out and be mad at me. I'll let you yell at me all you want, just please come to the door." I try, tapping at the door once more. I feel slightly better when she does finally open. She's upset, I can see it in her shoulders, her grip on the doorknob, the hurt burning into anger in her eyes. But man, does she look beautiful. She got ready for me, I can tell by how she did her hair and makeup, and that brown halter top with white jeans, she looks absolutely stunning. While I'm standing here in a layer of sweat and forest in just my gym shorts after just shifting.

"If you didn't want to co—" She pauses, the anger dropping from her face. She's looking up at my face with her mouth hanging open mid sentence. "Embry... your eye."

My eye? Nothing is hurting to signal that I got hit. Reaching up to feel around, I wince at the swollen skin around my eye. I don't know when, but Paul got a good hit in and I was so anxious I didn't even realize.

"Embry, what happened?" Winnie comes forward to get a better look at it. Rising on her tippy toes because even with being tall herself, I tower over her. "That looks like it hurts."

"It doesn't." I try to get back to talking about why I'm late, but she ushers me inside.

"Is that why you were late?" Despite how my legs work, she still guides me to sit on her couch. She goes looking for something cold, by Winnie cooks so little she doesn't even have a bag of frozen peas.

"Er, yes." There's truth in that.

"You got into a fight right before our date?" She pauses, her face a mix of confusion and jadedness. "That's not like you."

"It wasn't a fight." I try to clarify. She doesn't seem to like that answer by the way her face goes serious.

"Did you get that bruise from work?"

"Kinda."

"What do you do..." I rise up at her question, crossing the room so we're not so far away.

"We can talk about my job any other time. Can we please talk about our date first?" I plead. I can tell she wants to talk about this instead. How she wants to get to the bottom of it, find out every detail surrounding that black eye. But I rather talk about her.

"I thought you stood me up." She says to her shoes. If I could, I'd just hug her till she feels better. But I hold myself back, knowing she needs more than a hug.

"I would never stand you up, Winnie." I breathe. "I should have called you to tell you I was going to be late."

"Embry, late is ten minutes. At most maybe twenty minutes." Winnie crosses the room. Circling it till she's back by my side, leaning against the counter. "You have to explain to me why you were this late."

If I could, I'd tell her everything. That I'm a werewolf. That she's my imprint. That the pack needed me, that Paul needed his friends. I've been giving her little white lies all this time, and we've both hated it.

"I was late because of Paul," I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Paul Lahote?" Winnie straightens up. Already filling in the blanks. "Did Paul hit you?"

"He has anger issues." I use the made up excuse that the pack uses to get out of school and other situations. It's vague, but always work. "Paul isn't not angry, he's sensitive. His dad came back home tonight, and he's a real a piece of shit. He's barely home for most of the year, but when he is home he gives Paul hell. Paul just got scared tonight."

Winnie is quiet for a long moment, her face cloudy with a hard to read expression. Finally she asks, "Did Paul's dad give you that black eye?"

"No." I shake my head. "Are you more mad at me or are you more worried about me?"

"I think you were helping a friend tonight." Winnie dodges. "That looks like it hurts."

"No," I wave off. "It'll be gone in a few hours." The bewildered look on Winnie's face confirms I said the wrong thing. Black eyes don't just heal themselves in hours, but they do for werewolves. Resisting the urge to reach up to see if the swallowing is already going down, I try not to look guilty. It could already be yellowing already and I wouldn't know.

"Um, Old Quil has this homemade gunk. An old recipe, but it's magic. With his stuff it'll be gone before I know it." I makeup. This entire time I've been lying straight to her face one after another. This was suppose to be a good evening, but it's falling apart the more I'm with Winnie.

"Oh." All Winnie does is nod, which doesn't tell me whether I'm a good or awful liar. What if it's already yellowing?

"I should go see him." I clear my throat. heading for the door. She follows me out, quiet the entire time. Just as I'm about to say goodbye, I pause mid step down her front steps to turn back to her. For once she's at a higher height than my usual stance.

"Please don't think I didn't want to see you tonight." I state, my hand landing on the doorway. Winnie opens her mouth to come up with a retort, probably about how she thinks I'm pranking her or leading her on to kill time. "I just want you to know that I did want to go out with you. That I always want to see you. That just because I couldn't make it, doesn't change anything about how I feel."

I did try to hold myself back. I really did try. I wasn't sure when I closed the gap between us, till I realized she's back at her normal height by my chin. I could hear my feelings been laid thick. I couldn't have said something like 'I still want to take you out.' No, I just about gushed. I was talking about a lot more than just one date.

"Embry, tonight sucked. But I know you're the type of guy who helps his friends and gives people rides when they're stranded on the side of the road." Something of a grin spreads across my face.

"I'm going to make it up to you."


My house is dark when I unlock my front door. Which I'm not surprised, I excepted my mom to go to bed early. I'm about to head towards my room when I look back at the couch.

"Hey Em?" Paul is crashing on my couch, a pile of spare sheets and pillows now undone and spread out over him. I figured he would stay at Sam's and Emily's, but I don't mind him staying here either. Neither does my mom, she must have been the one to let Paul in. I can't tell whether it's because he waited for me to apologize, or if it's because my house is the farthest from his dad's.

"Yeah?"

"I didn't ruin your date, did I?" Paul looks tired on the couch, more tired than my mom looked earlier this evening. Through the dark I can tell he's on his side, his back to me.

"Nah, man."

"Good. I'm sorry I made you late."

"Don't worry about it, Paul."