“Wen,” Bella breathed. “What did you do?”
I looked around, trying to see it through their eyes. The bookstore looked different. Better. The walls were now a soft sage green that made the space feel open and welcoming instead of cramped and dingy. The trim was a warm cream that caught the light from the new fixtures I’d installed. The dark shelves had been sanded down and refinished with a lighter stain that made them glow honey-colored in the afternoon sun.
The floor was clean. Actually clean. The reading nook had been completely redone. The old, saggy sofas were gone, replaced with the same furniture but repaired and refinished. I’d reupholstered the cushions in a deep forest green. Added throw pillows in cream and rust. The coffee table had a new coat of varnish and actually looked intentional instead of like something dragged from a garage sale.
The shelves were organized. Fiction alphabetized. New releases on display. A whole section for local authors I’d been meaning to highlight for months. Plants hung from the ceiling near the windows. Fairy lights were strung along the top of the shelves, ready to be turned on once it got dark.
It looked like a bookstore from Instagram. The kind of place people would actually want to spend time in.
“We worked on it,” I said. “All day yesterday and most of today. He wouldn’t stop following me around anyway, so I put him to work.”
“He did this?” Krystin walked over to one of the shelves, running her hand along the smooth wood. “He refinished these?”
“I supervised. He provided the muscle.”
“Wen, this is incredible.” Daphne was spinning in a circle, taking it all in. “It’s like a completely different place. It feels so cozy now. So welcoming.”
Bella had wandered to the new release section. “You got new books?”
“Ordered them online. They came in this morning. I’ve been meaning to update the inventory for months, but I never had the time or energy.” I shrugged. “Turns out having a werewolf who can lift entire shelves by himself speeds up the process.”
“This must have cost a fortune,” Krystin said, eyeing the furniture.
“Not really. Most of it was just fixing what we had. The paint and supplies were the expensive part, but I had some emergency funds saved.” Barely. I was going to be eating ramen for the next month, but it was worth it. “I needed to do something. The place was dying. Now maybe people will actually want to come in.”
My friends exchanged glances. That look they got when they were having a silent conversation I wasn’t part of.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” Krystin said, but she was smiling. “We’re just proud of you. This place looks amazing.”
“And you did it with your live-in werewolf boyfriend,” Daphne added.
“He’s not my boyfriend!”
“Right. Your live-in werewolf employee that you gave your dead grandfather’s clothes to.”
I pointed at her. “You’re on thin ice.”
They settled onto the newly reupholstered sofas, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of satisfaction. This was what I’d wanted. A space that felt good. That felt right. My friends here, in the bookstore my grandparents had loved, finally looking like it belonged in this decade.
“Okay, but seriously,” Bella said, leaning forward. She was wearing an oversized cardigan that made her look even smaller than usual. “What about him? Malachar? What’s going on there?”
“Nothing’s going on. He’s helping with the bookstore in exchange for a place to stay. That’s it.”
All three of them stared at me with identical expressions of disbelief.
“What?”
“Wen,” Krystin said slowly. “The man called you his mate in a hardware store. In front of Mrs. Santos, who has now told literally everyone in town that you’re dating.”
“He doesn’t understand human social conventions-”
“And he’s obscenely hot,” Daphne cut in. “That bone structure? Those eyes? The scars? He’s literally a romance novel cover model come to life.”
“And he’s obsessed with you,” Bella added softly. “The way he looked at you in that photo Krystin’s cousin sent? Wen, that’s not normal. That’s... that’s intense.”
“That’s the mate bond. It’s not real. It’s just some magical wolf thing that doesn’t mean anything.”
