“That would be a huge help,” Hattie said, going to the refrigerator and getting out a huge pitcher of juice. “Thanks, Ryan.”
After a big breakfast, a hot shower, and a few hours' rest, Ryan felt refreshed, if not completely rested, and was ready to face the rest of the day. His backpack filled with what he’d need for his class that afternoon, he headed down to the kitchen where Hattie was hard at work, a pastry bag in one hand, the oven timer ticking away behind her. Making a face when he saw the big pile of dishes in the sink, he resigned himself to coming home and tackling them, on his own if necessary.
“Something smells delicious in here,” he said, plopping his backpack on the table. “I don’t suppose the support staff gets to taste test, you know, just in case something is off.”
“Are you accusing me of making something that tastes bad?” Hattie asked, but there was a little smile on her face. “That’s not a very good way of charming me into giving you some. Maybe you should rethink your approach.”
“You might have a point,” he said, grinning at her. “How about I think I’ll die if I don’t get to try one of those cream puffs? Is that better?”
Hattie laughed, “I think that will do,” she said, then pointed over in the corner of the room. “I’ve been putting the less-than-perfect ones aside for you boys. Help yourself.”
He walked over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “We can always depend on you to take care of us, I don’t know what we’d do without you,” he said. “I’ll grab one and then I’d better get going, I want to get some of your flyers hung up before class.”
“They’re there on the table in that folder,” Hattie said. “I made a hundred copies. I know that’s probably too much, but it doesn’t hurt to have a few extras.”
He grabbed the folder and a couple of cream puffs. “I’ll hang them all, that way we’ll be sure that someone will see them,” he said. “I’ll work on the dishes when I get back.”
“You’re an angel, Ryan, thanks for all your help,” Hattie said, a look of relief on her face. “I knew this job was going to be a lot of work. I hope I didn’t make a mistake.”
“It’s going to be fine,” he said, heading for the door. “You’re not alone here, we’ve got your back.”
***Paula***
The student center was a hive of activity the next afternoon, but it exactly what Paula needed to get the article she was working on finished and turned in on time. She’d been struggling all day to keep her mind where it belonged, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the creature that she’d seen the night before. There was no doubt in her mind that what she’d seen had been real, not a figment of her overwhelmed imagination. The memory was as vivid as it had been last night, and nothing had changed that —not a big breakfast, not the five hours of sleep she’d gotten, not even her rational mind telling her that it was impossible.
Letting out a long sigh, she forced herself to concentrate. She had a deadline to meet, and she had to do well in this class if she wanted to land a good job after graduation. It was almostan hour later before she was finally satisfied with the piece. Crossing her fingers, she sent it off to her professor. She sat back in her chair and looked around, surprised to see that the student center had emptied out while she’d been working, leaving only a few tables occupied.
Stretching her tired muscles, she decided she deserved a treat, something filled with sugar and fat, paired with a big cup of coffee so she’d have the energy to finish the day. Grabbing her wallet, she headed for the little café tucked into the back corner of the student center, zeroing in on a big pastry filled with plump berries and covered in whipped cream as soon as she walked through the door. A few minutes later, she sat back down at her table and dug in as if she hadn’t eaten in days, then forced herself to slow down before she made herself sick.
After sipping her coffee for a few minutes, disappointed that there weren’t that many people to watch, she looked over at her computer. Now that she was done with the article, it wouldn’t hurt to see what she could find online about what she’d seen the night before. Someone else might have seen what she did or something similar. There might even be a reasonable explanation which would be a huge relief, especially since she was still questioning her sanity a little bit.
She sat staring at the search bar for a few minutes, then typed in a few words, surprised when she got a string of results, but was still skeptical as she opened the first one. When she saw that it was about dragons, she started to close it, but something in the article caught her eye and she started reading. Another hour had passed, and her pastry and coffee were long gone when she finally closed her computer with a snap and sat staring at it, thinking she must have slipped into an alternate universe.
In her world things like shifters and dragons were just part of a good story, not a part of real life. The paranormal was just something fun to think about, not reality. But the longer shesat there thinking about it and remembering what she’d seen the night before, the more possible it all seemed. Then she told herself she was being ridiculous, letting herself believe the crazy stories online instead of facing the fact that she’d had some kind of an episode because of the cold.
Shoving her stuff into her backpack, a bit disgusted with herself for believing the crackpots online, even for only a minute, she got up and headed for the front doors. She just needed to get some more sleep; things would make more sense after a good night’s rest. Almost to the door, she found herself pausing as a strange feeling settled over her. It was like being wrapped in a warm blanket, and she let out a long sigh.
Looking around to see if anyone was watching, truly beginning to believe that there was something wrong with her, she saw a figure across the room that looked familiar. The man was standing at the notice board, a pile of papers in his hand, studying the space for an empty spot. Not caring that she was staring, the feeling of warmth only getting stronger, she stood there waiting for the man to turn around.
When he finally did, she stumbled back a step. It was Ryan from the night before and now that she was looking directly at him, the tingle of attraction began to spread through her body. Gasping, she whirled around, taking deep breaths to try and calm down, but only a second later, he walked right past her, this time making her feel like her entire body was filled with electricity.
She plopped down into a chair as she watched him walk away, her head spinning, then managed to get to her feet and stumble over to the notice board to see what he’d posted. Without thinking about what she was doing, she reached up and pulled the flyer down, then crumpled it up and stuffed it into her pocket, then staggered out of the student center, welcoming the blast of cold air that hit her when she stepped outside. Onautopilot, she made her way home, called a quick greeting to Connie, then climbed into bed, hoping that when she woke up, the world would be a place she could understand again.
CHAPTER 4
***RYAN***
It was after eight before Ryan climbed the stairs to his room. He was exhausted, but it had been worth it to see the look on Hattie’s face when the kitchen was sparkling clean again. Stripping out of his filthy clothes, he headed straight for his second shower of the day, ignoring his cell phone buzzing on his nightstand, too tired to care who was calling. He didn’t linger under the hot water this time because he’d long before used up the four hours of sleep he’d gotten that morning and just wanted to climb into bed and blackout for the entire night.
When he came out of the bathroom, his phone was buzzing again and he let out a long sigh, resigned to dealing with whoever it was bugging him when all he wanted to do was sleep. Grabbing the phone, he collapsed onto the bed, this time letting out a groan when he saw that it was his mother. For a moment he thought about shutting the phone off and ignoring her for the rest of the night, but he knew he’d pay dearly for that choice later.
He picked up the next time she called, “Hi, Mom,” he said. “What’s up?”
“Ryan, you know how much I hate it when you speak that way,” she said. “Now I want you to start over and speak properly.”
“Hello, Mother,” he said, rolling his eyes. “What can I do for you tonight?”
His mom let out a little huff. “You can call your fiancé for starters,” she said, her voice full of disappointment. “Erin says you haven’t called or texted her in days and she’s very hurt. That is no way to treat the woman that you’re going to marry.”
