Page 21 of Love, A Curvy Girl's Guide

Haley looked up sharply, about to protest, but Bridget’s gentle, reassuring hand on her shoulder silenced her.

“Come on, sugar,” Bridget said, her warm southern lilt wrapping around the words like a blanket. “I’m not sure you should be alone. You’re looking pale as a ghost. Let’s get you tucked in.”

Haley opened her mouth to argue, but she caught the glance Bridget exchanged with Frank—quick but loaded with unspoken meaning. Something was happening here, something beyond her understanding, and Haley didn’t have the energy to fight it.

“I... I’m fine,” Haley said weakly, though her trembling hands betrayed her.

Bridget’s expression softened further. “You just need some rest. Trust me, darling. It’ll help.”

Haley nodded, reluctantly rising to her feet. Her legs wobbled beneath her, and Bridget’s arm looped around her waist, steadying her as they headed toward the stairs.

Bridget led her to Ian’s room, pushing open the door to reveal a tidy space. It was simple but personal—worn furniture, a stack of books on the nightstand, and a faint, woodsy scent that was unmistakably Ian. Haley hesitated in the doorway, her throat tightening at the thought of being inhisroom.

“I’m really okay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Bridget ignored her, pulling back the covers on Ian’s neatly made bed. “Hush now. No one’s okay after the kind of day you’ve had. Sit.”

Haley obeyed, her movements stiff and mechanical as Bridget tucked the blanket around her with the practiced ease of a mother who’d done it a thousand times.

“There we go,” Bridget said, smoothing the edge of the blanket. “You just rest. We’re all here, and we’ll figure this out together.”

Haley swallowed the lump rising in her throat. “I don’t want to cause any trouble...”

Bridget’s warm smile faltered for the briefest moment, and again, that flicker of unspoken concern passed across her face. “This isn’t your fault, sugar. None of this is.”

Haley didn’t believe her.

As Bridget stood and turned toward the door, the muffled sound of voices filtered through the floor. The brothers were still in the living room, their conversation growing louder and more heated by the second.

Bridget glanced toward the noise, then back at Haley. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll check on you in a bit.”

She closed the door softly behind her, leaving Haley alone with her thoughts—and the voices of the Johnson brothers echoing up through the floorboards.

Haley couldn’t make out every word, but enough drifted through to piece together the argument below.

Dennis’s voice was sharp and indignant. “I just opened my practice, Dad. I can’t just pack up and leave. Do you know how hard I worked for this?”

“I get that,” Frank replied, his tone firm. “But this isn’t about your career. This is about survival. For your brother and possibly for each of you. I should have taken all of this more seriously. I just never in a million years thought it might happen. We have to face things.”

Dennis huffed. “Easy for you to say. You’re retired. I’ve got patients depending on me!”

Derek’s voice cut in, quieter but laced with frustration. “I could work from anywhere, sure. But what about the rest of you? This isn’t just about Ian—it’s about all of us. What happens when we’re all stuck out there, away from the lives we’ve built?”

Dean’s deep baritone joined the fray. “I can’t leave the force. They’re already short-staffed. Besides, what am I supposed to tell them? ‘Hey, guys, I could be turning into a werewolf, so I’m taking some time off?’That’s not exactly an HR-approved excuse.”

Davis’s usually cheerful voice held an edge of desperation. “I’ve got contracts, Dad. A dozen lawns that need weekly maintenance. If I disappear, I’ll lose everything I’ve built.”

Dayton snorted. “Lawns? Seriously? I’m supposed to leave for atournext week. Do you know how long it took to land this gig? This is my shot!”

Devon, the quietest of the brothers, spoke up, his tone unusually heated. “None of that matters if we can’t control this. Do you want to risk turning into a wolf in the middle of yourtour? Or on someone’s front lawn? This isn’t just about Ian anymore. It’s all of us. And if we don’t figure this out, we’re screwed.”

A heavy silence followed, broken only by Frank’s measured voice. “I know this isn’t what any of you want. But you’ve seen what’s happening to Ian. It’s not a matter of if—it’s a matter of when. The pack is offering to help us. I think we’d be fools not to accept.”

Haley’s chest tightened as she listened, tears welling in her eyes. Every word felt like another stone pressing down on her.

Was this all her fault? If Ian hadn’t bitten her, would any of this be happening? Would the Johnson family still be normal—still be whole?

She pressed her face into the pillow, hot tears spilling onto the fabric. Guilt clawed at her insides, sharp and unrelenting. This wasn’t just Ian’s burden. It was all of theirs now. And no matter what Bridget said, Haley couldn’t shake the feeling that she was at the center of it all.

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