I was lucky I had already paid for my goddamn chicken.
There I was, putting my card away at the checkout, when I felt it. A sort of chill. That feeling you get when you think someone is watching you, which was what my soulmate was doing, though I didn't know it yet. I wonder what would have happened if I didn't turn around, if I didn't look into his eyes. Maybe I wouldn't have known who he was. Maybe I would've met someone else.
But I did, and the moment our gazes crossed, my heart jumped. I frowned and rubbed my chest as he smiled at me. I almost forgot to smile back. It didn't even occur to me what had happened until I started toward the exit and felt my pants getting tighter.
"You get hard when you meet your soulmate, remember?"
"Shit," I whispered, moving my bag in front of me.
There was a row of chairs by the exit of the grocery store that always seemed to me like a waste of space, but today I raced over. My blood was going to all the wrong places, and it left me feeling both hot and cold. My head was throwing around a million questions and no answers.
This didn't make any sense. It shouldn't be him—it shouldn't be a man.
I had never even considered the option. I wasn't attracted to men. I never had been. Even when a kid at my school came out, I didn't spend a moment questioning my preference. Just as he'd always known he was gay, I'd always known I was straight. So what the fuck was going on? When I'd thought about wanting to meet my mate, this was not what I meant.
He was young—barely out of high school, probably. Then again, East Asian men often looked young. Pretty, too. Which he was. Not feminine, but . . . delicate. His limbs were lean and smooth, and black hair framed his face in a disheveled way, much like his clothes. Knee-cut jeans and a wrinkled black t-shirt with a print of some movie or video game. His dark eyes sought me out again as he finished paying, and I pulled my gaze away with my heart in my throat. I reached inside my pocket and found it empty. I'd left my phone at home.
There wasn't anything my brother could say that I didn't already know anyway. Unless I wanted to live the rest of my life by myself, I'd have to talk to this guy, but it was hard to see the point. He was a man, for God's sake. If I believed in Mother Nature, I'd curse Her.
Shit, this was almost enough to make me believe. I met my soulmate the day after my brother. What are the chances of that? My soulmate being a man on top of that . . . ? It must be Her idea of a joke.
Funny.
I wasn't sure what I'd done to deserve it.
The weirdest part of it all was the way my body reacted to meeting my soulmate. I could see he was good-looking, but I wasn't attracted to him, so there was no reason for me to be aroused by his image. Not that I imagined all werewolves went into a frenzy at the sight of a beautiful man or woman, but it didn't make sense that I would feel this way. Instincts were all that mattered, apparently. Soulmate equals arousal.
The guy passed me as he exited the store and I dragged myself out of my chair, making sure my bag covered everything. I wish I knew who he was or that I had at least seen him around. I probably would've had a reason to talk to him. I had none. Racking my brain for an opening line was hopeless, too. I couldn't use pickup lines, even if I could pull them off. I didn't want to make it seem like I was interested in him like that. God knows if he is. That would be the cream of the crop. Two straight guys destined to be together. What a fairytale.
I followed him outside, though I lagged behind, as if distance was enough to make our bond disappear. When I realized he was about to get in his car, I cursed and sped over.
"Excuse me?" I called out.
He paused with his hand on the door handle and looked at me over the roof. "Yeah? What's up?"
"Uh, well, I . . ." Shit, say something. "I have a weird . . . request."
"Okay."
"I kind of need to get to know you."
Oh my God, seriously?
I mentally kicked myself. Why couldn't I just say I would like to get to know him? I didn't have to make it that weird. I opened my mouth to clarify, but he was already shrugging.
"Sure," he said. "You want my number?"
"I—yes, but . . ."
"What?"
I shook my head. "Never mind. I was just surprised you accepted so easily when you don't know me. I'll give you mine. I forgot to bring my phone."
He shrugged again while he took out his phone. "I do know you."
"You do?"
"Yeah, I've seen you enough to know you live around here. What part of town do you live in, actually?"
"Um . . . at the edge. Near the woods."
"Fancy."
"It's not that fancy. My house . . . well, let's just say it's seen better days."
"Oh, is it that crackhouse? The one on the corner?"
"What? Crackhouse? Is that what people call it?"
"My friend Dennis calls it that. He stopped by recently. Wanted to ring the doorbell to see if y'all had drugs, but there wasn't a doorbell, so he knocked."
I gaped. What? "Right, well, you can tell your friend I don't sell drugs. Neither does my brother."
"That's what they all say."
"No, I—"
He laughed. "I'm just messing with you, man. Dennis has to get clean anyways. But what's your digits?"
"Right." The urge to ask why his friend was walking up to strange houses to ask for drugs was strong, but I resisted. For all I knew, he was making it all up. I gave him my number, which incited the obligatory remark about the abundance of sixes.
He sent me a text so I'd have his number, then announced he had to leave. Getting the ice cream tub at the bottom of his grocery bag home was his top priority. Since my body hadn't given up hope for a more intimate introduction yet, I didn't argue. I would also rather go home and text him.
As he opened the car door, he winked. "I'm Shaun, by the way."
I nodded. "Leroy."
He waved and got in. The tires of his Honda squealed, pushing up dust clouds from the loose gravel below. I stood in the parking lot staring after him, then repeated, "Shit."
— · —
"Shaun, huh?" Trae mused. "So you talked to him?"
"Yeah, I gave him my number. Shit, hold on." I flew upstairs to get my phone. When I unlocked it, there was a text from an unknown number waiting for me. I sighed in relief and returned to tell my brother, "Got his, too."
He gave me a look. "You forgot your phone? Again?"
"I'm old."
"You're twenty-five."
"I'm old inside."
"Oh, shut up. What did he say?"
"Just hi." I glanced at the phone again. "Why did it have to be him? I don't understand."
"Me neither, bro, but asking yourself that question isn't going to change anything. Sit down." He pushed me onto the couch and walked to the kitchen. "I'll get you a drink."
"Put the groceries away, too," I called after him.
"Yes, sir."
I sank deeper into the couch and stared at Shaun's message. Should I even bother? There was really no difference between not having a soulmate and having a soulmate I couldn't be with.
"What'd you do about your stiffy?" Trae asked.
"Walked it off. Not much else I could do."
"He didn't see?"
"Of course he didn't see. I had a bag."
"Well, I was not so lucky."
"I thought you said it worked?"
"Not the way you imagined."
"What?" I got up and walked over to the kitchen. "Trae."
He was the picture of innocence.
"What happened?"
He shrugged. "She might have given me a hand."
I made a disgusted noise. "No wonder you were so fucking ecstatic."
"It wasn't just because of that."
"Sure."
"Whatever." He handed me a glass of juice. "Here. Sorry, we're out of beer."
I rolled my eyes.
There was never any beer. Or wine. Alcohol was forbidden in our house. Even when I made food that required it, I did without. One glass was probably not the worst thing in the world, but Trae and I preferred to avoid it altogether because alcohol and drugs fucked with our immune system and coordination. Which made Shaun's story about Dennis that much more ridiculous.
When a werewolf became intoxicated, there was a big chance their body would spontaneously shift forms, and a shitfaced wolf on the streets was not everyone's idea of a fun night. Humans already had a tendency to do stupid shit under the influence. I'd probably end up accidentally devouring someone's cat.
I took a sip from my glass as Trae started putting away the groceries and lifted the phone to my face again. "I suppose I should text him back."
Trae paused. "Were you considering not doing that?"
I shrugged.
"Look, I know this sucks, but he's your soulmate for a reason. I'm sure you'll end up enjoying his company, even if it's not how you expected. You could at least be friends. Text him."
"Fine."
I saved Shaun's number in my phone and returned to his message. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard for a minute before I finally typed a reply. After taking a deep breath, I sent it.
Hey. It's Leroy. [11:48 AM]
[11:48 AM] i know
Oh, God, he didn't use capital letters. I didn't understand why anyone would turn that setting off. There's no point. If you're too lazy to capitalize your messages yourself, let your phone do it.
Just letting you know you've got the right person. [11:49 AM]
[11:49 AM] ok lol
[11:49 AM] so why do u need to get to know me agajn
[11:49 AM] like im cool with it but why
No capitalization, no punctuation, no spellcheck. He must have turned off every single setting his phone offered. We were off to a great start.
I didn't mean to say it like that. It's kind of a long story. [11:50 AM]
[11:50 AM] jumor me
[11:50 AM] humoe
[11:50 AM] hunor
[11:50 AM] fuck
[11:50 AM] u knwo what i mean
I threw my head back with a groan. "Trae, help. How can I enjoy his company when I can't even read his messages without losing braincells?"
He looked over my shoulder and chuckled.
"Why are you laughing?"
"Come on, it's funny."
"I don't see how this is funny. Why doesn't he just turn autocorrect on?"
"Pretend he did."
I think it would be better if we talked face to face. [11:51 AM]
[11:51 AM] ooh thst sounds ominosu
[11:51 AM] ominois
I muttered a few curses and told him it was nothing to worry about, but we could meet up to talk about it whenever he wanted. To my great relief, he was available tomorrow. If we could get into the habit of doing that instead of texting, that'd be great.
Seriously, this was torture. He somehow managed to misspell Starbucks when we decided on a place to meet, and then the conversation was finally over.
Trae squeezed my shoulders and whooped. "You've got a date!"
"Shut up."
— · —
I wasn't good at dating. I didn't care for grand gestures or fancy places. When I wanted to impress a woman, I offered her a home-cooked meal and a movie on the couch. There were women who liked those things, of course—especially my cooking—so I'd had my fair share of successful relationships, but I won't lie, I never put in much effort. When the passion faded, I let it die.
Needless to say, I wasn't going to make an effort for someone I didn't even want to be with. This thing with Shaun was so far out of my comfort zone I seriously considered canceling, even if it technically wasn't a date. I had no reason to talk to him aside from us being soulmates. What were we going to talk about?
When I arrived at the Starbucks cafe we'd agreed on, I sat down in an armchair by the window and stared out until Shaun showed up. Which was about twenty-five minutes later.
"Sorry," he said as he took the seat across from me. "I had to walk, because Dennis stole my car."
I smiled and said it was fine. I definitely hadn't been sitting here for almost half an hour, getting more anxious with every passing second, thinking he was going to be the one to stand me up. Yep, totally fine.
Dennis was a real piece of work.
"So what's your story?" Shaun asked.
I crossed my arms on top of the table, glancing away. "Um . . . don't you wanna order first?"
"Oh, yeah, good idea. What do you want?"
"Anything is fine."
"Okey-dokes, be right back!" He got up before I could say another word. He didn't even let me hand him a few dollars.
"Right," I muttered, dropping my head in my hands. Why not get straight to it? Why waste time exchanging pleasantries when he could ask me why I needed to get to know him right away? I watched him order, move to the other side of the counter to wait for the staff to make our drinks, then walk back to our table. And in all that time, I couldn't think of anything to say.
He placed a cup in front of me. "There you go. I hope you like lattes."
"Sure. I'm not picky."
A silence fell as he blew into his cup and sipped.
My heart hammered away in my chest.
He raised a brow. "So . . ."
I turned my cup around.
"Dude, it can't be that bad," he said.
"You think?"
"Try me."
I narrowed my eyes at him. I'd have to be crazy to tell him the truth, or an idiot, but my sanity and intelligence didn't matter. None of it did. I was fucked either way. My options were to be alone or to start a "relationship" that would never—could never reach the level I wanted. Worst case scenario, I'd lose a friend. A friend who wasn't even a friend yet.
"Sure," I said. "Why not? All cards on the table. I'm a werewolf. I found out yesterday that you're my soulmate, and we're supposed to be together. That's why I need to get to know you."
There was another beat of silence.
He picked up his napkin to wipe the milk mustache from his upper lip, returned it to the table, then stated, "I'm not gay."
I stared.
He blinked.
"That's the part you're . . ." I shook my head. "Right. Okay. Nothing about me being a werewolf?"
"Nah. If you say you're a werewolf, you're a werewolf. I've heard weirder shit. I'm sure you have an explanation. But the soulmate thing is not gonna work out, because I'm not gay."
"Well, me neither."
"Then why the hell am I your soulmate?"
"Beats me, but this means I'm kind of in trouble now. Once I've found my mate, I can't be with anyone else."
"Can't you just find a new soulmate?"
"No, that's the whole problem. You're—" I raised my hand to make quotation marks in the air "—'the one'. I can't fall in love or be with anyone else. It will always be you."
"You're in love with me?" He pointed an accusing finger at me. "Have you been stalking me?"
"I have not been stalking you," I said emphatically. "I'm not even in love with you. I just said I'm not gay. Sometimes when a werewolf meets someone, they just . . . they instinctively know that person is their soulmate."
"What if your mate doesn't want you?" he asked.
"I'm your soulmate, too. It goes both ways." At least, that's what Trae claimed. I picked up my latte and added, "However that's supposed to work when neither of us is into men anyway."
He hummed and stared at me.
I took a sip, avoiding his gaze. My heart was still racing, even now. This had gone way better than I'd expected, but it really shouldn't have. I was damn lucky.
"Well, I'll think about it," Shaun said.
I looked at him again and let out a long breath. "Okay."