“Dylan likes to know everyone who comes in and out of this building. I don’t know why he didn’t include his Pack members on the approved guest list, though,” Willow rambles. “I’m sorry, Eddie, and thank you, Jason.” Her cute pouty lips are calling to all my innermost desires and the building flush on her cheeks and neck is too. I’m sure she wants me to turn around and leave, but I’m not quite done here yet.
“Jason, are you sure you can’t let me in today? I’m part of Dylan’s Pack, it should be okay,” I say, leaning on the desk. If Jason had any sort of training, he would know that nothing I say should change the fact that I’m not allowed in. Maybe this is why Dylan kept his Pack members off the list—to test the security team here.
“I’m sorry, sir. Even if you are a member of his Pack, you are not on the list. The most I can do is if you got Dylan or Flora to call me directly, then I could let you in.”
“Even if I threw in three crisp Benjamins?”
“Even then, sir. Security is one of our utmost values.”
“Even if I jump this desk and—” Willow pulls my shirt sleeve, and I can hear the gasp she lets out, and it takes everything to hold back my smile.
“Even then, sir. I take my job seriously, and I will shift if I need to.”
“I’m yanking your chain. I’m only checking the security here; I’ll let Dylan know you’ve done a good job, Jason,” I say, finally breaking and letting my smile stretch across my face. I turntowards Willow. She’ll be okay here. I can go to work knowing she’s safe here.
“I’ll pick you up at 5:30, Buttercup.”
“I can catch a ride with Flora or call a taxi.” Her brows furrow in concentration. She’s riled up, talking fast, but I pull her into my chest, breathing in her scent one last time before I go.
“I’ll see you at 5:30, Buttercup,” I say again before turning around and heading towards my car. I have to get out of here before I decide to stay. Even if I can only be in the lobby.
I get into my car and sit for a minute. My hands play with the radio and the air before I finally drive away. How am I going to be close enough to protect her but far enough not to fall for her?
The last place I want to be at the moment is at work. Working for the man is hard. As much as I want to be able to do my own thing, it’s a whole lot more work to go solo in this field. I don’t know I’m ready yet. Being an architect on my own means not having a consistent paycheck and working long hours, which isn’t the worst idea, but I worry about the Pack. The Pack is still new, and I need to be as committed to them as I am to the job. While I moved up in the ranks fast, I’m still young for an architectural engineer, and seniority is everything here.
“Eddie, my man, how’s it going?” I hear his irritating voice before I see him. My shoulders tense up, and I try to smother my annoyance since he hasn’treallysaid anything yet.
“Don’t know, Chance. I just walked in.” Chance is the one man I cannot stand and will not pretend to. He is slightly shorter than me and has a lanky form compared to my more muscled build. He’s an average guy with an average skill level. Chance is a shifter, a flamingo, if I had to guess based on those skinny-ass legs.
“You hear they scheduled a meeting about your little project?” Chance says.
“My little project?” That fucking ass.
“The heat house idea. They’re actually giving it thought this year.”
“Why wouldn’t they?” I ask. They give everyone who isn’t an intern a chance to present their ideas once every year. In fact, if you aren’t coming up with something new, you get demoted. Every idea has to be pre-approved, and my heat house gets rejected every time. Except this time, I guess. Higher-ups are considering it for next year’s list of projects.
Shifter women, or anyone who can reproduce, go through a cycle once a year where, for one week, their bodies crave... well, a baby. It’s similar to a human period, except shifters are only fertile when they are in heat and their body’s reaction. The desire for a baby completely takes over the shifter’s mind. They are so focused on sex that basic necessities such as food and water are forgotten. Typically, a mate will see their partners through the heat, but a heat can occur even if the shifter doesn’t have a mate, making the cycle extremely painful, which is where my idea of a heat house came from.
“Yeah, but a heat house? Is that necessary?”
“Guess you’ve never been around a woman in heat then,” I say with an uncontrollable roll of my eyes. Obviously, the girls aren’t flocking to Chance like he says they do.
“And you have?” I had, not that it’s any of his fucking business. The pain and suffering of a heat without adequate comfort and supplies is a burning memory in my head. If I could create a place where shifters could be protected and helped during their heats, then I’d get it done. It’s been my passion project for years now. I’m going to get it done with or without the company’s help.
“Get back to work, Chance. I’m busy.”
“You wound me, Eddie, really.”
“Chance,” I mumble viciously and that gets Chance dashing out of my office. Finally, some peace and fucking quiet. I glanceover at my phone, seeing my mom’s name come up. It’s always been my mom and me. She’s been my rock ever since my dad left, and I couldn’t be more grateful for the work she put into raising me and keeping us afloat. Being a single mom has brought a lot of judgment and prejudice from other shifters.
Finding your soul mate is everyone’s life goal in some shape or form and having kids with another shifter before meeting them puts a damper on the relationship. Which I don’t quite understand because if Willow had kids, I don’t think it’d matter to me. My feelings for Willow are strong, present in my every thought, that I would love any and every part of her, kids included.
I pick up the phone and my mother’s soothing voice comes through the speaker. “Eddie, honey, I was hoping you had a quick minute. Are we still on for this weekend? I have Sunday off.”
Oh shit. Oh shit. I forgot. How in the hell could I forget about our weekly lunch?
“What time do you get lunch today?”
