Page 68 of Accidentally Wedded To A Werewolf

Luna spent the ride home staring out the window at the thin layer of snow, thinking about the Musgroves showing her how they put snow chains on her rental car’s tires. Everybody had come out to watch Ben demonstrate, Oliver glowering at his side and not saying anything. Vida had pretended not to care, but Luna saw her taking notes on her phone. Darren had goaded Leo into a snowball fight with the aunts. Uncle Roy kept trying to interject with lessons on engine maintenance, which Sabine shut down with a glance at Luna that implied she knew just how much Luna knew about cars: a big fat zero. Grandmother Musgrove had stood at Luna’s side, rarely talking, so wrapped in shawls it looked difficult to move.

At the time, Luna was bemused and cold, and she was eager to get back inside and call her cell phone provider to see if she could talk them into being less shitty. She had barely paid attention to the lesson, still convinced she’d never need these skills and would be on a sunny beach within a week. She’d been wondering whatthese people could want from her. Now she knew they didn’t want anything; they just wanted to show her how to put snow chains on her damn tires so she wouldn’t crash into somebody else’s sign the next time she drove in the snow.

“You’re quiet,” Oliver said.

It took Luna a second to process what he’d said. Her head was still back in that parking lot, watching the kids pummel each other with snowballs.

“I thought you’d be grateful,” she replied.

“Oh, I am,” he assured her. “Just worried we’re having another medical event. You couldn’t deal with five minutes of silence on the hike.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, just because I’m not singing the Spice Girls…”

Oliver’s stomach growled loud enough to make her jump.

“Oh mygod,” she said. She let out a surprised laugh that quickly turned into a gasp. “You didn’t have breakfast! Itoldyou to eat something before we went to Jackson’s!”

“I had toast,” he said quickly.

His stomach rumbled again.

“Shut up,” he told it, scowling.

Luna grinned. The anxiety from the hospital trip was finally leaving her. She didn’t know when Oliver’s scowl had become comforting instead of rage-inducing, but she was relieved about it. It made her feel like things were going to be okay. Oliver had been so pale in thehospital, so still and blank-faced as he paced at a speed that had Ben joking about him wearing a tread in the linoleum. She’d take scowling Oliver over blank Oliver any day.

Jackson was on the roof. He’d offered to come with them to the hospital, but when that got denied, he said he’d get to work.

“Hi,” Luna called up to him. “Oliver’s going to come up there later; he has to have a snack first.”

Oliver’s face twisted as she pulled him into the lobby. “I have to have a snack first? What am I, in grade school?”

Luna ignored him, dragging him down the Musgrove’s hallway and into their kitchen.

“Shut up and eat something,” she said. “What do you want? We got pop tarts, we have…” She poked at the solidified eggs on the kitchen table, which hadn’t been cleared in the rush of getting Grandmother Musgrove to the hospital. “Cold eggs. Cold toast. Oooh, we have cheese. Do you want a grilled cheese? That’ssocomforting.”

“I’m fine,” he replied. He reached into a box of bran cereal.

They both grimaced. It sounded like he was chewing rocks.

“Cut that out,” she told him as he reached in for another handful of dry cereal. “Let’s make you an actual meal.”

She yanked open the fridge and yelled in triumph to see multiple types of cheese. “Aw, you guys took mycheese advice! You won’t regret it. A fridge isn’t complete without soft cheese, hard cheese, feta cheese, and weird blue cheese that only tastes nice if you pair it with something.”

“Luna,” Oliver said. “What are you doing?”

Luna’s grin dimmed. She ducked out from behind the fridge door. “I’m admiring your cheese collection. It’s finally adequate.”

“Darren wouldn’t shut up about it after your cheese rant,” Oliver said. He walked over and closed the fridge, leaning against it. “I can make myself something. Don’t worry about it.”

Luna kept her smile in place; however, she couldn’t help but let steel leak into her voice as she said, “Your Grandmother is in hospital. You broke your ankle?—”

“My ankle is fine!”

“—and you told your family something that’s obviously been crushing you for a full year,” she finished, voice rising. “So shut up and let me make you a grilled fucking cheese!”

Oliver blinked.

Luna slapped a hand over her eyes. “Wait, shit, I take that back. I was meant to be making this nice for you, not yelling at you. Go sit down so I can stop yelling at you.”

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