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When awareness finally came to me, I immediately rolled over, my eyes seeking Chris. All I saw was an empty bed in a disarray of sheets, blanket, and books. My heart dropped. I didn’t know what I’d expected. To wake up with him in bed next to me? I closed my eyes as the memories from the summer plagued me. I knew exactly what it was like to awaken with him pressed against me. I knew just how well his body felt snuggled up to my chest, how perfectly he fit within my embrace, how he belonged there.

So, yes, I supposed, secretly I’d been wishing to wake up to find Chris had crawled into bed with me. If he had, I would’ve known he felt as I did or that he’d felt the shift in my emotions, in our relationship. But he hadn’t, and he didn’t. Once more, I heard Chris’s voice in my mind as clear as day: “You have to make it happen.” And I would have to. Then, for some reason, I heard his almost broken voice saying that no one had ever tried to make romance happen with him.

Well, I would.

All those other people were fools. But their loss was my gain.

With that thought, I rolled out of my creaky bed and moved to the bathroom to the shower. I didn’t know why I was so energized to chase Chris, but I was. I’d never felt this way with anyone else, which I supposed made sense. Chris wasn’t just anyone. He was him. He deserved my best because he was the best.

After a quick shower, I simply waited. Chris was probably on a run or practicing. He really was keen on not being a second-stringer. Was that even a word? Or was it just second string? I didn’t know, which was a problem. I supposed I would have to learn more about soccer now that I was trying to date Chris. That was probably the most daunting thing about all of this. Sports and I didn’t go well together. I swore that whenever I’d tried to learn in the past, the knowledge would just fall out of my head. It didn’t want to stay there, no matter what.

But I would double—no, triple—my efforts to learn this time around. Chris had to know I was serious. That I cared. If he cared about soccer, then I cared about soccer.

As more time passed and no Chris, I stared at the door with a frown. This was either a very long run or he was still at the field, practicing. He needed breakfast, though food wouldn’t be enough to tempt him inside. I grinned. Coffee would be.

I headed outside, debating about whether to get coffee first to bribe Chris to stop practicing or to tell him we could get coffee when he left. I landed on the latter and headed toward the field. I buried my hands in my sweater, the chilly early morning air nipping at my exposed skin. It would warm up soon, making me regret the extra layer, but for now, I needed my hoodie. A few zombies lumbered over the grounds as they cared for the trees and the flowerbeds. I paid them no mind and continued on, only pausing when I saw a familiar figure.

Aaron was sitting on the grass near the library, back against a tree with a cat in his massive hands. The cat looked unhappy, to be honest, but thankfully, it was neither of Chris’s siblings—I recognized their shifted forms. The cat was struggling to get free of Aaron’s hold, its claws digging into his jeans as it attempted to scramble away. He didn’t allow it to escape as he examined a spot on the cat’s leg.

“Everything okay?” I asked quietly, shuffling.

He glanced up with a smile, but I was completely unaffected. How things could change in such a short amount of time. Aaron answered, “Yeah. Mrs. Whiskers here had a thorn in her leg a couple of days ago, and I removed it. It healed up nicely. I was just checking.”

The school had a few cats roaming around, all well cared for, to help naturally rid the school of vermin. That Aaron had made friends with each cat wasn’t in the least shocking. He seemed to always be on the lookout for animals, or perhaps they found him. Maybe he had a vibe that attracted animals to him. Some people were like that.

“That’s good,” I said, not sure what else to say. Part of me wanted to confess to him about what Chris and I had planned and how my feelings had changed, but it probably wasn’t needed. Besides, those embarrassing words would never be able to leave my strangled throat.

“Have you and Chris started your project yet?” he asked.

“No.” It hadn’t even been a week. We had the whole semester. All we had to do before next week was pick a play. That was easy enough.

“Me and Shianne have. I want to get it done as early as possible. With frat responsibilities and soccer, I have enough on my plate without worrying about this class.”

I knew he was a good student, but holy cow, this felt a bit extreme. He was a senior, though. I was sure his other classes were far more challenging. All I said was, “That’s a good plan.” I wasn’t stressed about it. Chris and I worked well together. We’d get the project done and on time.

“Do you and Chris want to come to the Alpha Claw Omega party next weekend?”

No, but I didn’t say that. “Yeah, sure, as long as Chris wants to. Thanks for the invite.”

He nodded.

When Aaron stayed silent, I cleared my throat, feeling some need to speak. “You and Chris… I mean, you-you don’t—” I couldn’t even get the words out of my throat. I really didn’t want Aaron as competition.

Aaron laughed. “You don’t need to worry about that. I got the message.”

“What?” Did Aaron know about our plan? How was that possible?

“You’ve marked your claim quite thoroughly. I’m happy the two of you are finally together. It makes sense. I’m shocked it took this long.”

I blinked.

“We ogres are territorial. No need to worry. I should’ve thought of it sooner. You wanting to talk to me all of a sudden when Chris was talking to me. Or this summer. You’d always sidle up to him when we were talking.” Aaron gave me a nice smile. “No need to worry. I don’t have any feelings for Chris, and he’s clearly into you.”

Chris had feelings for me? I grinned.

Aaron laughed. “See? All fixed. Instincts resolved. Now, can we be friends?”

“Of course.” We certainly could. Part of me reveled in the fact that Aaron had assumed the two of us were together even before this whole plan. We belonged together, or at least, I hoped we did.