Howl (Monster Boyfriends #1)

Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

JAMIE

I end up staying the night with Raegan. I hate seeing her like this. I’ve seen her anxiety get the best of her sometimes, but it’s never been so bad that she purposely locked herself in her room and avoided my calls. I wish I could pick her up and put her in my pocket. If I could, I’d carry her with me everywhere, and there would never be a moment she didn’t feel safe and secure.

This situation with Patrick has fucked her up more than I realized. Knowing he not only caused her physical harm but stressed her out to the point she doesn’t even want to be outside has me livid all over again, but right now my priority isn’t getting back at him. It’s being here for Raegan.

All I want is to burrow myself under the covers and tuck her into my arms. Even now, when I know I shouldn’t be thinking about such things, my mind wanders to what it would feel like to have her body pressed so close to mine. But I stay where I am on top of the covers. Long after she falls asleep, I’m still fighting the temptation, and after several hours I manage to wrangle it into submission.

I feel like I’ve only been asleep for an hour when I wake up to the sound of birds chirping outside her bedroom window.

The room is completely dark, thanks to her blackout curtains doing the utmost work at blocking out the outside world. I glance at my watch and see it’s six forty in the morning. I internally groan.

Typically I don't need to get ready for work for another hour, so I rest my head back against the pillow and allow myself time to just lay here. It’s been a while since I’ve truly rested. Between running the coffee shop, trying to keep up with basic human hygiene, and worrying about Raegan’s safety every second of the day, my mind has been on overdrive. But right now, for the first time in a week, everything is quiet. So I relax.

I allow myself another ten minutes to do just that, then my brain starts whirring back to life. My first thought is to make Raegan breakfast before she goes to work. I carefully roll to my side and into a sitting position. Her bed is way less creaky than the one I’ve been making her sleep in at my house. Maybe I should pull the trigger and finally get a new bed frame for the guest room.

I stand from the bed just as Raegan moans grumpily and shifts positions. A smile warms my face. There are so many versions of her, and I love every one of them. The stubborn, confrontational Raegan, the overthinker, the playful and lighthearted Raegan, and the one I’m looking at now: the unguarded Raegan in her safe place. A perfect little burrito protected from the world.

It takes me thirty minutes to scramble eggs and crisp up some bacon in her mini air fryer. By the time I’m plating her meal, Raegan shuffles out of her bedroom with tired eyes and slippers the shape of cat paws. She’s changed out of her clothes from yesterday and is now wearing a sweatshirt and sleep shorts.

She’s clearly not planning on getting ready for work.

“Are you staying home today?” I ask gently.

She eyes the door carefully, as if avoiding full eye contact with it. She’s still not ready to step back outside, and that’s perfectly okay. Only this time, she won’t be alone.

Instead of speaking, she slowly nods.

I hand over the plate of bacon and eggs with a side of sliced up strawberries. “Eat this, and then you can go back to bed, if you want.”

She takes it from me carefully, picking up a slice of bacon to take a bite. I watch her perk up as she chews. “You always cook it perfectly.”

Seeing her happy dance when she eats good food always makes me smile, but there’s a satisfaction in knowing I cooked it the way she likes.

“I need to text Ethan and tell him I’m not coming in,” she says quietly.

“I’ll let him know,” I say. From what she confided in me last night, I know having to talk to people will only make her anxiety worse. So, any pressure I can offload from her I will.

She knows what I’m doing, and the small tug at the corners of her lips only reassures me I’m doing the right thing.

“Are you going to stay out here, or do you want to go back to your room?” I ask.

She takes in the sight of her small apartment and I can see that her tense posture from yesterday has now relaxed.

“I’m okay here.” She settles on the couch and turns on the tv. Meanwhile, Cleetus wanders out from some unknown hiding place to plop onto her lap. He gives me a withering stare, but Raegan pats the spot next to her for me to sit down.

I expected her to want to go back to her room and eat, so I’m taking the fact that she’s in the living room as a good sign. Expanding the perimeter of her foxhole has to mean she’s feeling better.

I join her for a few minutes while she eats and we watch the first segment of a morning talk show. When she’s done with her breakfast, she rests her head on my shoulder, and I have to physically tear myself from the couch when it’s time for me to leave.

I grab my keys from where I left them on the counter the night before and come back to crouch in front of her. Cleetus snarls, but Raegan smacks him lightly on the butt.

I stare right into his territorial eyes and make sure he knows I’m the true predator here. Somehow the silent communication works, because he flees from Raegan’s lap and darts for her bedroom, tail puffed up behind him.

Raegan looks confused. “Why can’t you two just get along?”

“He just got spooked,” I say, then pull her attention back to me by placing my hand on her knee. “If you need anything, you call me. Got it?” She nods. “I’m going to open the store and check on a few inventory things, then I’m going to take the rest of the day off. I’ll be done around noon, so I’ll bring us some lunch.”

She’s looking at me with a mixture of astonishment and gratitude, and there’s a sharp pang in my chest. I don’t like that her first instinct is to be surprised by my kindness. I know she has faith in me, but I think deep down she’s somehow convinced herself that the place she’s currently in is meant to be experienced alone. But she’s wrong.

From this moment forward, Raegan will never again be surprised by my willingness to take care of her. The next time she needs to close herself in her room and hide under the covers, I’ll be right there beside her.

I place a kiss on her forehead and this time I linger just a bit longer. I close my eyes and breathe in her scent, letting everything that is her fill and recharge my soul. When I pull back, she’s looking up at me with bright and glossy eyes.

Suddenly, I have a strong awareness of my own heartbeat. It thuds against my chest as if to remind me it's there. I’m flooded with a warm sensation and my palms are sweaty. I have to force myself to stand up and look away from her.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” I say, hoping she doesn’t hear the crack in my voice. “Hang tight.”

Raegan tucks into the couch and curls an arm around her middle. “See you then.” She’s clearly noticed me purposefully pulling away, and I want to scream that it's not what she thinks.

These small moments between us are happening more and more. Everytime she witnesses a moment of weakness from me, when my wolf manages to break the surface and attempt to seize the moment and claim her, I have to yank it back and shove it down. She probably thinks it's because I don’t want her, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.

The full moon is in two days, and every second that ticks by we move closer and closer to the moment I’ll have no choice but to shift. Given everything that’s happened, I don’t see myself in a situation where I’ll be able to leave Raegan’s side for more than a few hours, so how the hell am I going to successfully stay gone for two days? For twelve hours I’ll be in my wolf form, and shifting back is so exhausting I typically end up sleeping the entire next day.

After closing the front door behind me, I lean back against the frame and run a hand down my face. I still have thirty-six hours to figure things out, which means this is just another problem for future me to solve.

After a morning of zero productivity at Double Double, I stop by Kiki’s Cafe to order a pimento grilled cheese and extra crispy fries for Raegan. After checking out the specials menu, I order a fried green tomato BLT.

When it’s ready, Brendon, Kiki’s son, slides my to-go bag over the counter with a wink. The kid has only just turned eighteen yet is covered in tattoos of everything from a ketchup bottle to a koala on fire. The one time I asked about them, he said he liked having physical reminders of significant moments in his life.

I still don’t get it.

“Gave you extra aioli,” he tells me slyly, as if he’s slipped drugs into the bag.

I shake my head and roll my eyes. “Thanks, boss.”

As the bell above the door dings to signal my exit, I hear Kiki’s voice over the bustling lunch crowd. “Tell Raegan we’ve got her back!” she shouts, a piercing edge to her banshee voice. I wince, along with several patrons while still murmuring their agreement. “That shit with legs is gonna rot for what he did!”

Being married to Sheriff Simmons, I’m sure Kiki got all the juicy details about the arrest after the fact. I’ve managed to avoid the gossip mill since leaving work last night, so I’m not caught up on the latest verdict. I know Twitty took Patrick to the police station with Aidan, but Shadow Hills Precinct only has two jail cells, one of which is mostly utilized as a drunk tank for Mayor Musthaven’s nephew, Phillip, who gets shit-faced drunk off moonshine vapors every night and then floats out of his cell every morning.

I wonder if Patrick will be transferred to the city given his assault charges. The further away the better.

I give Kiki and the rest of the cafe a thumbs up and head back to Raegan’s apartment. When I get there, she’s horizontal and curled into a ball on the couch watching a cooking show. She startles slightly when I open the door, but her shoulders relax after seeing it’s me.

I hold up the take out bag from Kiki’s and her eyes brighten. “Pimento grilled cheese?” she asks.

“And fries.”

She jumps up from the couch and rushes to the kitchen counter where I lay out all the food, picking up the bag of fries and holding it to her cheek. “They’re fresh,” she says wholesomely before turning her gaze to me. “You’re my hero!”

She certainly makes me feel like one.

We both agree that the fries from Kiki’s are better than any fast food chain because they’re double fried. That extra crisp makes all the difference, and as I watch Raegan take her first bite, I’m happy to see that something so small is able to bring her so much joy.

I spend the rest of the day by her side. We watch a marathon of one of our favorite crime dramas that’s playing on TV while devouring the food I brought. After a few hours, we decide it’s time for a snack, so together we playfully make tacos in her kitchen with a pack of nearly expired tortillas and whatever toppings she happens to have on hand.

Raegan uses rotisserie chicken, greek dressing, feta, and cherry tomatoes. I decide on leftover ground beef I found in a tupperware container, sprinkle cheese, and a mixture of ketchup, mustard, and mayo for the sauce.

“Why’d you have to make yours so refined?” I tease her.

She scoffs. “What’s so fancy about a chicken wrap?”

I gape at her. “It’s not supposed to be a wrap! The point was to make a taco out of random ingredients!”

“Your taco is not random. You basically made a cheeseburger.”

“Exactly. A cheeseburger taco is awesome.”

She takes a massive bite of her creation, dressing running down her chin. “Well my Mediterranean taco is delicious,” she says, mouth full.

“It’s a wrap,” I deadpan, but she just continues eating.

We laugh, sliding down the cabinets to sit on the floor.

She’s leaning back against the bottom row of cabinets with one leg tucked in close and the other stretched across the floor. Her slippered foot taps against my thigh as I sit perpendicular to her, my long legs reaching from one side of her tiny kitchen to the other. We’ve finished eating, but neither of us has made a move to get up. Down here, it feels like another safe pocket for her to hide in, only this time we’ve made it together.

My thumb haphazardly traces circles on her calf, and as I watch, the rest of my fingers move slowly over her knee and up to her thigh, I see goosebumps raise along her flesh. She must have noticed it too, because she bends her leg, effectively pulling it from my reach.

Something is brewing beneath the surface for both of us. I know my reason for fighting it—it’s clearly my wolf nature trying to stake its claim on her—but what’s her reason for pulling away? The only logical explanation is that she will never see me as more than a friend. Yet when I catch her swallowing a lump in her throat, I know that can’t be true. There have been signs, like the way she looked at me this morning, her eyes glimmering with a word I can't fathom.

After my first shift, I spent an extensive amount of time with the pack, learning the signs of my natural instincts and how to fight against them when in my human form. If I wanted to keep my secret, I had to hold back my aggressive nature when placed in a conflict outside of my control. And I have. For the most part.

I should have been able to keep my cool with Patrick, but every time I was confronted by him, one outlying factor changed everything: Raegan.

It was her presence that triggered my need to show dominance, to crush him under my heel and claim her as mine . The word echoes in the back of my mind like a mantra each time I feel the need to protect her.

Mine .

Mine .

Mine .

Even now, as I sit inches from her warm body, I want to sink my teeth into her. Leave my mark on that perfect porcelain skin so everyone who sees it knows it was me.

I close my eyes and let out a low groan.

Why now? I question the universe. Why is all of this happening now?

She’s been in my life for fucking fifteen years, and suddenly now is when my wolf wants to fuck her like an animal? But it’s not just lust clouding my vision. It feels like every single part of me, on a cellular level, is being pulled toward her, and there is nothing I can do to change course.

Every pack member I’ve asked about it over the years has said the same thing about finding my mate: I’ll just know.

At the time, the notion sounded dumb as hell, like something I’d hear out of one of Raegan’s smutty romance novels. But now? I can’t help but think they were right. Just the thought of her not by my side sends a flash of red across my vision.

She’s staring at me guiltily, and I can see the questioning look on her face as she internally reprimands herself for pulling away from my touch. So I place my hand on the top of her adorable cat paw slipper and squeeze.

I’m about to tell her what I’m feeling—that what we’re both feeling is natural—but instead I blurt out something else entirely. “I want you to move in with me.”