Her hair was sticking out in every direction like she’d been battling the sheets all night. There were dark circles under her eyes and a crease across one cheek from her pillowcase. She looked half-feral and furious. And still hot. Not that I noticed. Not that Ishould’venoticed.
She had the kind of realness most people tried to Instagram into existence. Comfortable. Unfiltered. Like someone who knew how to belong somewhere, even when everything was a mess.
“Could you notbeltAdele at full volume during the workday? I was on a call.”
I blinked. “You’re working already?”
“It’s nine a.m., Roman. Most people have started their day by now.”
I winced. “Right. Sorry.” I adjusted the flame on the burner and forced a smile. “You hungry? I made omelets.”
She hesitated, arms crossed over her chest, then nodded. “Yeah. Sure.”
I gestured to the cabinet. “Grab a plate. I’ll serve.”
She opened the far-right cabinet and reached straight for the blue one.
No. No no no.
My whole body locked. “Uhh, sorry, but that’smyplate. As noted in the roommate agreement. You can have any of the others. Just… not that one.”
Of course, she didn’t let it go.
“Why do youhaveto eat off this plate?”
I felt the familiar pressure rising. Tight chest. Crawling skin. It wasn’t just the question. It was herinmy space, asking meto justify something I shouldn’t have to. The plate wasmine. It was the only one that felt right. The others were too glossy. Too sharp. This one was balanced. It made breakfasttastenormal.
I set the spatula down and took a breath through my nose. “Because I just do, Maggie, okay?”
She raised her hands like I’d pulled a weapon. “Damn. Sorry. I won’t use the blue plate.”
She reached for another and stepped aside. I slid her omelet onto the perfectly unremarkable white dish. We stood in silence while we ate, the only sound the occasional scrape of forks and a distant dog barking outside.
Eventually, she sighed. “I’m sorry. I’ll be more sensitive. I know there are things that matter to you, and I respect that. It catches me off guard sometimes, and I really forgot about the blue plate. But that’s not an excuse.”
Some of the tension in my shoulders eased. I gave her a small smile. “Thanks.”
She glanced around the room as if looking for something to say to fill the silence. “I’ve been here a month, and I still don’t really know what you do. What exactlydoyou do?”
I cleared my throat and rinsed my plate. I hadn’t exactly been forthcoming about my role with the pack, because I liked to live as deeply in denial about it as I could. “Pack business.”
She stared at me, then raised an eyebrow.
I dried my hands on the towel and turned. “My cousin’s the alpha. I serve in an advisory role.”
“Advisory?”
“I do what’s needed. Logistics. Problem-solving. Sometimes conflict resolution. Today, that includes a meeting with two enforcers who apparently can’t decide who outranks who.” I grabbed my keys off the hook. “So. Grown men. Wolf teeth. Lots of fun.”
The look she gave me told me she could see right through me. There was no pity or judgment, though. Just Maggie’s dry and observant manner, with that eyebrow that always seemed half-ready to call me out.
I turned to go but looked back at her standing barefoot in the golden light spilling from her bedroom. It made the tightness in my chest ease.
Maybe I was a freak.
But maybe this new kind of normal wasn’t entirely doomed.
The pack landswere unnaturally quiet, which was a rare break from the constant hum of San Francisco—the foghorns, the streetcars, and the low rumble of traffic on the bridge. Out here, just beyond the city’s edge, it felt like the world had been muted.
