FIFTEEN

I looked around in search of a camera crew. This had to be a joke. Or I was dreaming.

"Jameson . . ." I said quietly, eyes avoiding the beast in front of me. The clothes Jameson was wearing were laying neatly piled on the ground.  "Oh, god. This is a horrible dream. Wake up, wake up." I took a few cautious steps back, pulling at my hair by the roots. He told me I had to stay calm, but I couldn't. I couldn't fucking breathe. I was in the middle of the woods with a ferocious wolf staring at me.

It's me.

The wolf cocked its head to the side, big hazel eyes trained on me like a predator to its prey. I think I stopped breathing. "You're–" I took a giant breath, filling my lungs. "No. This is a fucking fever dream."

It's real, Petals.

I shook my head, backing up until I had my back to a tree. Thank God, because I was sure to fall over any minute. The wolf stood on all four legs, taking a few cautious steps towards me. I cringed, making it stop altogether. "Is it really you?" I whispered, not taking my eyes off of him. "If it's you . . . take a step back."

The wolf followed orders and took a step back.

"Fuck," I choked out, sliding down the tree until I was on the ground, my knees close to my chest.  "I'm ready for you to be a person again, please."

I buried my face in my hands, rubbing circles with my palms to try to force myself to wake up. I knew he had to be something unnatural . . . but a fucking werewolf? When I looked back up a minute later, Jameson stood there with only his pants on, fumbling with the zipper. I didn't have the capacity to focus on how fucking toned his body had gotten because I was standing up and throwing my arms around him.

"What the fuck?" I cried into his chest.

"I know," he whispered, his arms locking around me tightly. "I told you you weren't ready."

My body shook with every breath I took. "Can we please go back to the car?" I asked because I was about to have a full on attack and there was absolutely no way it was happening in the middle of the woods. "Please? Now?" My head was still pressed to his chest because the rhythm of his heartbeat was giving me something to base mine off of.

"Of course," he said. I waited for him to pull his shirt over his head and he grabbed my hand once again, walking with me back to the highway.

The sight of the cars flying back and forth shot my anxiety up and I practically dove into the car, slamming the door behind me. I cradled my head in my hands. My skin tingled and I felt sick, my chest rising and falling at a record pace.

Jameson got in and noticed my state. "Are you alright?"

"Panic attack," was all I said, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth.

"Look at me," he said and I did, immediately feeling time slow down. "You're okay, Cade. Just look at me and breathe. We're safe, we're okay."

Once my mental was at bay, I slumped in my seat, catching my breath. My heart was still racing, but I think that was more of a processing thing. "I need to go home," I declared. Jameson agreed, starting the car and driving instantly.

I got out of the car without a word. Jameson didn't follow me, either, which I was grateful for. I needed some time to just figure out how I felt about everything. I needed a nap.

Nobody was home when I got inside. If they were, they were in their own rooms, so I didn't see them. I bolted to my room, closing the door behind me to shield out the reality of the situation. I was going to sleep on this and then get back to Jameson about what we were going to do with this information.

Right at that moment, I wanted to keep as far away from him as possible.

He texted me once I was in bed telling me to take my time and just call him when I was ready. I didn't think I'd ever be ready to face him.

A fucking werewolf? Beside the fact that I thought werewolves were a Halloween legend, I didn't even see how the biology was possible. How the fuck does a person turn into a wolf in a minute? How could he hide it so well? Everything was starting to make all the sense while also making none of it. How do wolves have telepathy? And was his magic werewolf saliva what healed my hands that one night?

I clenched my eyes shut tightly, wishing sleep would just come. Thinking about this was going to drive me mad.

When I realized I could not sleep, I pulled out my phone and started looking up everything I possibly could about werewolves. Everything online made it seem like it was an urban legend, absolutely impossible.

"In many depictions, werewolves are evil — they kill animals and innocent people, sometimes for fun," I read aloud. "In 1573, an alleged werewolf, Gilles Garnier, was burned at the stake. In 1589, a man known as Stubbe Peter was executed near Cologne, Germany for cannibalism and multiple murders. He claimed he had a belt that allowed him to become a werewolf."

I shivered. Werewolves were depicted as such horrific, violent creatures. That sounded nothing like the Jameson I knew.

"Some werewolves change shape at will; others, in whom the condition is hereditary or acquired by having been bitten by a werewolf, change shape involuntarily, under the influence of a full moon."

Full moon? Jameson changed voluntarily today in broad daylight. The little lore that I had heard growing up seemed to be pretty on point with the things I was reading online, but I had questions.

So many fucking questions.

As much as I wanted to put distance between Jameson and I, this wasn't going to go away. I had to see him, whether he scared the daylights out of me or not. I wondered where he was staying, or if he was here for a long time. Surely he had Matt with him, so they were probably put up in a hotel somewhere. I stared at my phone for an hour, debating on if I was ready or not.

There was a knock on my door so I weakly told them it's open. Dylan walked in, sitting in the desk chair. "You good, dude?"

I wanted to tell him so bad. I could tell him. What would happen? Why did I have to keep this a secret? But then I thought about it and I wasn't sure I would believe him if he tried to tell me Isabel was actually a vampire. This was so fucked up.

"Yeah, I'm good," I said, offering a smile. "I saw Jameson today."

Dylan swiveled in the chair. "How was it?"

I sat up in bed, wrapping my blanket around my shoulders. "It was . . . I got some answers," I said vaguely. "What are you doing today?"

"Eh, nothing," he shrugged. "I was about to smoke again, wanted to see if you wanted to join."

God, yeah. I nodded eagerly. One thing I understood since moving here was Dylan's dependency on weed. I wasn't quite at that point, just used it whenever I felt like it. But it helped so much with my anxiety and stress, I smoked before studying more often than not.

Dylan left the room to grab his stuff while I made a spot for him on my bed. We hung out in my room for a few hours, just playing games and making small talk. He didn't ask about Jameson again, which I was thankful for.

"So, how's Isabel?" I asked.

Dylan smiled. "She's good," he said. "We're probably going to go to that candles thing."

Our city did this giant walk through lights show in the winter in the botanical gardens. It was a hotspot for dates due to the romantic atmosphere. I hadn't gone yet, mostly because Cash didn't want to go because it was too gay, or something. And the other guy I had dated since moving here was still in the closet, so he didn't want to be seen with me on dates.

Mac invited me to go with her and Marcus, but it felt like a pity third-wheel invitation, so I said no.

I cursed myself when I pictured going with Jameson. As if this was the time to me daydreaming about dating a fucking werewolf. But his face under the lights would be so . . .

"You could invite Jameson to dinner," Dylan suggested. We tried to do what we called Family Dinner every Sunday night, just to keep something consistent among us and also so we weren't eating fast food and snacks for every meal. None of us knew how to cook very well, but when we combined forces, we came out with some pretty good meals. "If you feel comfortable with that."

I wasn't sure about it. It was hard to look at him and not see the frightening wolf that faced me earlier today. But it would give me the opportunity to talk to him, to seek answers to all the questions that were plaguing me.

"Good idea," I said, moving to grab my phone.

Dylan said he'd better go do some laundry before he got too lazy, so he left the room. I called Jameson's contact and waited while it rang. He answered after two rings. "Hello, how are you?"

"Hey, uh . . ." I cleared my throat. "I'm okay."

"I wasn't expecting you to call so soon," Jameson said.

"Me, neither," I said honestly. "I was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner tomorrow night. We all cook and eat around the table, so um . . . you're welcome to join us."

He sounded more than pleased with the invitation. "I'll be there," he said. "Should I bring anything?"

"No, no, it's okay," I said. "I was also thinking we could talk afterwards."

I'm sure he knew that already. We were walking on eggshells, the both of us. At some point, we would have to talk about what I saw today. It was better to rip the bandaid off and get it over with.

"Sounds good," he said. "And hey, Cade?"

I hummed, holding the phone to my cheek. I pictured him sitting there, waiting for me to call him. Looking worried, like I'd never speak to him again after what he showed me. That would be the logical thing to do, if I'm being honest. But I couldn't get rid of him now.

"I only showed you that today because I need to have you in my life."

That rendered me speechless, picking at a hangnail and trying to come up with something to say. I was drawing a blank. The only thing I could think was, if he needed me in his life so bad, how could he leave me? There was more to the story obviously, and his werewolf-ness had everything to do with it.

I just cleared my throat and whispered, "Okay."

We hung up and I laid my head back on my pillow, taking a deep breath in an attempt to just calm down. The reality was, as fucked up as everything turned out, I had to accept it. I was now involved with a werewolf. I had kissed a werewolf.

Things were supposed to be normal here. I moved here to get away from that cursed town. It appeared chaos decided to follow me, regardless of location.

But really the only chaos I've dealt with was Jameson. He was the one who had to have stupid superpowers and stupid shapeshifting and stupid ridiculously beautiful eyes. I just wanted to be a normal guy in a normal relationship.

I jumped when my phone rang again. It was Mom video chatting me.

With a sigh, I answered, pasting on a fake smile. Beth's face popped up on the screen and I felt immediately better. I'd much rather talk to the kids than Momma right now. "Hey, stinky," I said, making her smile.

"Hi, Cade!" she exclaimed and I gasped.

"Um, did you lose more teeth?"

She smiled wide, showing me that her bottom left tooth was gone. "I did and I got three dollars for it! We're at James soccer game," she exclaimed, flipping the camera to show the pixelated soccer field. The quality was poor so I couldn't make out which one was James, but I cheered his name nonetheless. "I miss you!"

"I miss you, too, kiddo," I said. She was almost seven, which blew my mind.

James was starting to act up at home. I felt partially to blame. I was the closest thing to a father figure to him and now I was three hundred miles away. Mom seemed to be doing better, though. I guess she got some kind of promotion at work, so money wasn't as tight, especially with me out of the house.

She handed the phone to Mom, who looked like such a soccer mom. "Hi, Momma," I said, watching her tighten her jacket around herself.

"Hi, baby," she cooed. "You look skinny. Have you been eating?"

"Three meals a day," I lied with a laugh. "I promise Mac makes sure I eat."

Squinting her eyes, she looked unconvinced. "Well, Beth wanted to call you up and say hey," she said. "The game's almost over, but I'll ask James if he wants to call after, alright?"

I agreed, hoping he did. She blew a kiss at the phone and hung up, leaving me in silence once again. For now, all I had to do was wait until tomorrow night and try not to dwell on the insanity that was Jameson.