Page 1 of One Night with the Werewolf
CHAPTER
ONE
EMELIA
Ithink that maybe the day things were over with Jason was the day I thought he had the same good looks as his dad but none of the charm.
But I hold out. I’m a holder-outer. I will loyally wade with you into the storm if I think we have a good reason. After four years of dating Jason, it would take a lot for me to want to leave him. I see him as my future husband, my partner. He might not be the best boyfriend in the world, with how he forgets important things in my life, and he doesn’t communicate well. And maybe we don’t live together thanks to Jason’s stonewalling, but I love him, just like I always have. Like I always will, because that’s the kind of person I am. Loyal to the end.
I guess I just didn’t expect the end to come so soon.
I’m lucky that my birthday falls on a Saturday this year, so no one will be rushing over from work or thinking about where they have to be the next morning. No, on this twenty-sixth birthday, I’ve just gotten a fantastic promotion at work and I am ready to party down.
As always, we meet at Elroy’s, our favorite bar. Jason and I come here all the time, and it’s one of the few places we hang out besides his house. I always go to his place because he doesn’t like my roommate, Arin. I’ve never understood it—Arin is clean, polite, and a naturally generous person—but I’ve respected it. Maybe it’s something about the fact Arin can shift into a unicorn at will.
So instead, I make the trip to his apartment most nights, which is a bit of a bummer as his roommates are all human men and don’t take particularly good care of it. I’m lucky if I find only one sock on the bathroom floor.
Naturally, Arin is here at Elroy’s with me, as are my other friends from college, Becks and Harry. Then two friends from work show up, too: Kim, a human with pink hair, and Kimmy, a gorgon with the most lovely array of snakes on her head. Kimmy doesn’t actually like the name “Kimmy” outside of work, but otherwise we would have no way to distinguish her from Kim—who was there first—and she hates “Kimberly” even more. So Kimmy it is.
It’s so exciting to see everyone again that I jump from person to person, giving out hugs and trying to catch up quickly on recent life events. Of course, I just saw Kim and Kimmy yesterday, but it’s always wonderful to see them outside of work and let our hair down a bit.
Then boots click on the hardwood floors. I glance up to find a tall man striding into the bar, the bright evening sun making it difficult to discern his features. But I know his walk, the shape of his shoulders, the sound of the heavy work boots he always wears—it’s Jason’s dad.
He glances around when he steps in the room, frowning. This is mostly a college bar, and the majority of the patrons are in their early- to mid-twenties. He’s met us here a few times before for other events, like graduation or Jason’s birthday, but I knowhe must feel like a fish out of water. Usually I see him at Jason’s apartment when he stops by, or at dinner when he invites us over to his house.
I pull away from my friend Harry to run over and greet him.
“Roscoe!” His head jerks as he turns toward the sound of my voice. I halt just before hugging him because we aren’t really on a hugging basis. I stick out my hand, and he gazes down at it with one eyebrow raised. Then, he extends his own hand, and we shake woodenly.
“Hey,” he says smoothly. “Happy birthday.” His stubble is thicker than usual today, a shading of salt and pepper across his jaw and chin to match his hair. He styles it with just a bit of gel, so it doesn’t look greasy but ensures his straight part remains that way.
“Thanks. I’m glad you could make it.” I went out of my way to invite Roscoe personally, knowing Jason would forget to tell him.
“Wouldn’t miss it, Emelia,” he says, his gaze trained on me. His green eyes are always striking with his dark hair. Jason got brown eyes from his mom, who I’ve only met once before. She lives in Indiana or Illinois or something like that.
I feel a blush rising in my face the longer we talk, so I quickly turn around and usher him to follow. “We’re sitting over here.”
Obediently, Roscoe follows along behind me, his hands stuffed in his jean pockets as we head around the bar for the two tables we’ve pulled together. We might have to add a third when Jason shows up, especially if he brings anyone with him. Sometimes his roommates will join us impromptu on an outing I thought was just for us.
I’ve gotten used to them being more or less appendages.
My friends all get up and greet Roscoe when he joins us. Awkwardly, he shakes hands with everyone before sitting down.
“You’re Jason’s dad, right?” Kim says, who’s probably the oldest of us besides Roscoe.
“Yup.”
“You look just like him.” Kim surveys him like a predator sizing up a fat steak.
“Works that way sometimes,” Roscoe says patiently. “He did get half of my DNA.”
Kimmy snickers.
Conversation pivots to Jason, who should have been here twenty minutes ago. He’s almost always late to things, though, so I’m not stressed about it yet.
We get all the introductions over with, and to my surprise, quiet Arin is the one who starts off the conversation by talking about the painfully hot bartender, a harpy with an incredible amount of jewelry. We all laugh and agree that she’s an absolute smokeshow, and Kimmy starts encouraging Arin to go hit on her. Unfortunately, they are far and beyond too shy to do such a thing, so Harry takes it upon himself to suggest one of us approach the bartender on Arin’s behalf, instead.
I love the sound of my friends all laughing together as Arin, flabbergasted, waves us off. “Oh, I would die of embarrassment,” they say, covering their face. “No way.”
