Page 10

I’d gotten used to the sound of her key in the lock. To the soft pad of her feet across the kitchen tile when she thought I was still asleep. To her leaving little pieces of herself in my space—a scarf draped over the back of the couch; her handwriting on a sticky note by the fridge; the lavender scent of her shampoo in the bathroom after she showered.

She’d become a steady rhythm in my life I hadn’t realized I wanted until it was there. The light teasing over breakfast, and her rolling her eyes at my “rules,” but then sitting with me quietly when the world was too loud, had become our pattern.

I’d grown fond of her. We were still figuring each other out, but I thought of her as a true friend. I didn’t know if I had ever had a true friend. Not since Willow, who had been a grounding force in my life until she wasn’t. I pushed the thought of her from my mind.

Before I started whisking the eggs, I flipped on the speaker and started singing along with Adele. Because Adele made everything better. Who the hell didn’t like Adele?

I was halfway through “Send My Love (To Your New Lover)” when Maggie’s door flew open.

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 I should’ve noticed.

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 not belt Adele 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’s my plate. 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 you have to eat off this plate?”

I felt the familiar pressure rising. Tight chest. Crawling skin. It wasn’t just the question. It was her in my space, asking me to justify something I shouldn’t have to. The plate was mine. It was the only one that felt right. The others were too glossy. Too sharp. This one was balanced. It made breakfast taste normal.

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 exactly do you 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.”