Howl (Monster Boyfriends #1)

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

JAMIE

I despise cleaning the dishes.

Yes, I own a dishwasher. I just don’t use it. The same broken unit that came with the house is currently being used as a fancy drying rack.

The current state of my kitchen is clear evidence that I am great at procrastinating. I try to clean as I use things—a fork and plate here, a skillet and spatula there—but one moment of thinking, “I’ll clean it in the morning” leads to days of piled up dishes. Now here I am, thirty minutes into scrubbing and I’m only halfway done.

I listen to a sports podcast to pass the time. Typically, I have the volume turned up past the doctor recommended limit so I don’t hear how much water I’m wasting by leaving the faucet running. That’s probably why I don’t hear the front door open. And it’s most definitely why, when I feel a tap on my shoulder, my immediate reflex is to pick up a knife and brandish it like a sword.

Instead of a robber, or a disorderly neighbor entering my condo uninvited, it’s my best friend, Raegan. Her freckled cherub face is adorably scrunched into a look of panic, and when I glance down to see what she’s so upset about, I see her arm is bleeding.

“Oh shit!” I gasp, dropping the knife. “I’m so sorry!”

I clutch her arm, fingers sliding over her soft skin, and try to staunch the flow of blood, but in reality, I’m just smearing it everywhere.

“Ow, Jamie! Get a rag or something!”

Right. Probably should’ve done that in the first place.

I yank a hand towel from its rack to press it to her cut, but Raegan shrieks and yanks her arm back. “You’re not using that dirty thing on my open wound! I could get gang green!”

I grab a clean one from the sink instead. “Raegan, I am so sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.”

She’s not crying, something I take as a good sign, but she’s definitely concerned. Though the gang green comment might have come out as a joke, knowing the way her brain works, she’s most likely considering the likelihood of that actually happening.

“Are you auditioning as a scream queen or something?” she jabs. “Shouldn’t you be used to me coming over unannounced by now?”

“I was distracted. Hold this.” I place her delicate hand over the towel and dart for the half-bath where I keep my first aid kit to retrieve bandages and antiseptic. When I return to Raegan’s side, the bleeding has mostly stopped, so I’ll be able to clean and cover the wound easily.

She winces again at the sting from the antiseptic, and though I know it will help, I hate seeing her in pain. I carefully place a pink bubblegum themed bandaid over the cut and when I glance up to check her expression, she’s smiling.

“Where’d that come from?” she teases in a sing-song voice.

“I’m pretty sure it’s been in this box since my sister was a toddler.”

She grimaces at the bandaid like it’s my dirty kitchen towel. “Will it work?”

I snort. “It’s a bandaid, Rae. Not a condom.”

This makes her freckled cheeks go pink. Raegan has never been one to openly talk about sex. For some reason, it embarrasses her, especially with me. Which is a fact I love to exploit.

She quickly changes the subject. “What’s got you so jumpy?”

Her ability to see past my mishap to whatever is bubbling underneath just proves she knows me as well as I know her.

I’ve felt extremely on edge lately—like I’ve been waiting for the next shoe to drop, or for an inconvenience the size of a natural disaster to hit unexpectedly. Everything around me has just felt a little off kilter, and I know exactly why.

Unfortunately, I can’t tell her.

So instead, I say, “I was fully zeroed in to this podcast I’m listening to. You know how I get about football.”

Raegan narrows her eyes and smirks. She doesn’t believe me, but she doesn’t ask any further questions.

“Besides,” I add, crouching beside her, “you always text me.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” She rolls her eyes and frowns. “Mavis stopped me as I was leaving work, so I drove straight here to escape her.”

Understanding washes over me. “Is she asking about your lease again?”

Raegan nods. “You know I hate it there, and if I could move somewhere more affordable, I totally would, but there’s just nothing available right now.”

She’s right–I know exactly how much she’s struggled to keep up with Mavis’s exorbitant price hikes. I’ve offered for her to move in with me many times, but each offer has been rejected. Raegan tends to refuse help from others given she would feel overwhelmed with the need to repay the kindness, though I’ve told her it isn’t necessary with me.

I already know what her response will be, but I extend the offer one more time. “And I have the perfect solution to that problem.”

She narrows her eyes, but she knows I’m right.

For the past ten years, I’ve been lucky to have a fully-paid, two-story condo gifted to me by my parents. I was sixteen when we moved to Shadow Hills. It was a necessary move, according to my parents, that would promise me the best life. But after allowing me the time to grow up in a place that accepted me for who I am, my parents missed their community and their friends. Once I was a legal adult, they gave me the choice to go back to Nashville with them, or stay here and begin my own life. I chose the latter. Now it’s just me and two empty bedrooms.

“Come on,” I insist. “I’d love to have you as a roommate. I have all this space and no one to share it with.”

I see the tension in her shoulders relax, but her face conveys a different feeling.

“Jamie, I’ve already told you, I can’t accept something like that. I’m not going to live in your condo rent-free.”

“Fine, I’ll charge you rent. One dollar a day.”

She playfully slaps my arm but winces as the movement strains her new injury.

I place a gentle hand over the bandage and look up at her thick black lashes framing her bright blue eyes. “Seriously, Rae. What is so wrong with me offering you a hand? It’s not a big deal. You stay here for as long as you need to build up your savings, then you can look for the place of your dreams.”

She doesn’t give me an answer to my question, so instead I say, “Just think about it, okay?”

She nods her head, and I’m shocked she’s actually considering.

“Deal.” I return to my feet and begin cleaning drops of blood off the linoleum.

Raegan goes to the refrigerator and grabs a fancy prebiotic soda that I only buy for her. She pops open the tab and takes a long sip, then she sits back down.

I toss the dirty paper towel into the trash and join her at the kitchen table. “How was the opening shift?” I ask, knowing she typically closes at the bookstore during the week.

“Slow,” she answers. “No one recreationally shops that early. Frivolous spending tends to happen after the sun goes down.”

I snort. “And why do you think that is?”

“The best bad decisions are always made after dark.”

“Buying a book is a bad decision?”

“If you’re like me it is. I was able to hide four new books I want behind a stack of Guns Digest this morning, and I already know there’s no more room on my shelves to put them.”

This time I let out a true laugh. “ Guns Digest ?”

“Ethan will never find them. Not his demographic.”

My laughter seems to be contagious as Raegan giggles in between sips of her orange cream soda.

“Do you have plans tonight?” I ask, a residual smile still on my face after thinking about Ethan reading a gun magazine. “Wanna do our Friday night movie ritual? The theater is still playing The Breakfast Club , but we can watch something here.”

One of our favorite things to do is watch movies together. During this time of year, when the weather starts to cool and the leaves turn stunning shades of yellow and orange, we love to watch over-the-top horror movies, the more fake blood the better.

“I can’t. I’m going to break up with Patrick.”

My hackles immediately stand in alert. “Shit. You’re finally going to do it?”

Raegan shrugs as if it isn’t a big deal, but I’ve been dreading this for a month.

From the moment she started dating Patrick, I knew the guy was bad news. He is way too clingy, and not in an insecure kinda way. He’s possessive of her to the point that she can’t schedule anything with me before confirming with him first. They’ve only been dating for a few weeks, and somehow he’s already hooked his creepy little claws into her, treating her as if she solely belongs to him. Not to mention he’s disrespectful as hell.

Thankfully, Raegan is smart when it comes to detecting bullshit. She saw the red flags after the third date, but the guy’s scary personality has made it a bit difficult for her to bring up the ‘things-aren’t-working-out’ conversation. I’m all for double-teaming the prick and going with her to finish the job, but she insists it’ll be fine.

“It’s time,” she tells me. “My phone hasn’t stopped ringing for two days.”

“Where are you going to do it? You know Maurice won’t mind a public disturbance at Bones. You’ll serve as the evening entertainment.”

Raegan bites her lip and her shoulders raise to her ears.

“What?”

“I may have agreed to go to his house.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Jamie–”

“No. You know that’s a bad idea. I don’t trust the guy as far as I can throw him, and it’s not far, Rae.”

She hides her smirk beneath her hand. That’s definitely not true. I could probably toss him across a football field, but she doesn’t need to know that.

Suddenly, she lowers her forehead to the table and lightly bangs her head against the surface in defeat, the sound ricocheting through the open kitchen. I know she wouldn’t actually hurt herself, but I still slide my palm between her forehead and the next impending hit.

I hear her mumble against the table. “My life is falling apart.”

“It’s not,” I insist. “Just let me go with you.”

She lifts her head suddenly and shoots her hand out to grab my arm. “Please don’t. It will only make him more angry.”

“Fuck him,” I snap back resolutely. “I don’t care what emotion I make him feel. I’m coming. It’s not safe for you to go by yourself.”

Raegan eventually relents with a sigh. “Ok just…stay in the car.”