A Juicy Steak

"So, Freya Hayes..." he murmurs, like he's tasting the sound of it. The way my name slides off his tongue sends a shiver straight down my spine.

I'd just finished signing the attendance sheet as it circulated, and apparently he's only now piecing together my full name.

"Freya..." he repeats under his breath, then lets out a low chuckle. "The fvcking irony," he says. "Perfect."

Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean? God, the man is exhausting! Is he mocking my name now? Because if so, I will happily gouge his eyes out with this pen. I mean it. I spin around and shoot him a look meant to promise violence, holding my pen up in a stabbing motion for emphasis.

He laughs quietly, clearly delighted by my reaction. "Easy with the threats, sweetheart," he whispers, pitched just loud enough for me and every nosy student nearby to catch. "You're putting ideas in my head. Getting me worked up. Giving me all sorts of thoughts..."

Oh my god. A strangled little sound, half squeak half whimper, escapes before I manage to slam my mouth shut. I grip the pen tighter, seriously considering murder as a legitimate option. Instead I force myself to face forward again without a word. Thank god we're seated way in the back.

I am furious.

And let's be honest, it's not because he's offended some delicate sense of propriety I supposedly have. No, that's not it at all. I'm furious because he nearly made me laugh, because he tempted me to fire back something equally crude, possibly worse. Because apparently that's exactly his game, shocking everyone eavesdropping around us, and worse, shocking each other with increasingly ridiculous things, and I should absolutely not want to play along. Except I clearly do.

I genuinely don't understand what it is about him that pushes me toward such extremes. Either I want to strangle him or climb him like a tree. There's no in-between setting. He might be the single most irritating person I've ever encountered, myself excluded, and unfortunately I understand him a little too well. That understanding is precisely what infuriates me most.

I never considered myself capable of homicidal thoughts before today. I've never wanted to actually hurt someone, no matter how annoying. Then again, I'm usually the annoying one myself, but I balance it out with being sweet, right? Unless the universe has decided that particular math no longer applies to me.

All day I've thrown every ounce of effort into ignoring him, avoiding him completely, except he's in literally every single class I have. Even when he's not directly bothering me, I can feel his eyes tracking me. There's no outrunning this. By the time I finally get home, I'm completely drained. Avoiding him has essentially become my second job.

===≠=====≠=====≠====≠====≠=========≠

I pull Winston, my beat-up old teddy bear, tight against my chest and sigh, rolling onto my side. It's past eleven at night and here I am, still thinking about him. Ugh! There's genuinely no escaping this man. I've been consumed by thoughts of him all day and now all night too. Nonstop. An entire sixteen hours dedicated to that stupidly gorgeous face taking up residence in my brain.

I sit up, punch some life back into my pillow, then collapse back down onto it. Sleep isn't happening while my mind stays this occupied. Whenever I do eventually drift off tonight, I have zero doubt he'll show up in my dreams, or possibly nightmares, depending entirely on perspective.

"Boy trouble?" Lilith asks, peering at me owlishly from across the room. She's cross-legged on her bed, laptop balanced in front of her, surrounded by scattered notes and textbooks.

Her laptop screen and the small desk lamp are currently the only light sources in our room.

"How'd you know something's up?" I ask my roommate.

"You've been flopping around for a solid fifteen minutes, muttering under your breath, and honestly you've had your head stuck in the clouds for over a week straight. Not to mention that impressive hickey," Lilith says, then adds firmly, "Yeah, don't think I somehow missed that. I've genuinely tried staying out of your business. Clearly a lost cause."

"Try harder," I tell her.

"Please, I deserve an award for holding my tongue this long already," she counters. "So, boy problems? You know you can always talk to Lilith." She has this habit of referring to herself in third person occasionally. Yeah, she's just built weird like that.

"What makes you assume this is about a guy?"

"It's not?" One eyebrow lifts skeptically.

"Errr..." I sit up, scratching my head absently. God, lying to complete strangers has never bothered me one bit, but even considering lying to an actual friend makes my scalp itch uncontrollably. It's not that I want to deceive Lilith exactly, I just haven't decided whether sharing this particular mess is wise. The only person I'd ever really opened up to about boy troubles was my Nana. She was simply that incredible, plus, honestly, I was also a fairly pathetic loner with zero girlfriends to speak of.

Growing up, I never had human friends because I was lumped into "them" territory, even though humans generally had no clue what "them" actually meant. "Them," meaning werewolves, particularly the girls, never liked me since I was human. I didn't fit anywhere, so eventually I fit with no one. Great times, honestly.

It suddenly strikes me that now, I actually have a girlfriend, meaning a friend who happens to be a girl. Lilith counts as an actual friend, right? Two, if Harper counts too. Wow, look at me thriving socially.

Why not just talk to Lilith about this?

"Well?" Lilith prompts, shoving her papers aside to scoot closer, letting her feet dangle off the bed's edge.

"So...there's this guy," I start.

A knowing grin spreads immediately across Lilith's face. "Ah, there's a guy."

"Shut up and just listen!" I tell her, and she mimes zipping her lips shut obediently.

"Anyway, this guy, he's just incredibly annoying. Seriously, unbelievably annoying. Every single time he opens his mouth I want to smack him upside the head." Or kiss him senseless. "He's just...ugh!!! I genuinely don't know what to do about him and he refuses to leave me alone! He's everywhere I turn."

"Is he at least cute?"

"Cute? Oh, Lilith..." I sigh dramatically, flopping backward onto my pillow. "He's gorgeous. Ridiculously hot."

"I see...and he's also responsible for that hickey?"

My hand flies up instinctively to cover the bruise, cheeks flushing hot immediately. Apparently that's confirmation enough because Lilith's grin only widens further.

"Wow. A ridiculously hot, gorgeous guy is completely into you and won't back off," she says.

"Tell me about it."

"Probably struggles keeping his mouth off you too, honestly. I can see how that's a genuine dilemma," Lilith says, tapping her chin thoughtfully, nodding along like she's contemplating something profound.

I sit up, clutching Winston protectively against my chest, bracing for her wise, insightful advice.

"Honestly? Just hump him," she deadpans. "Go for it. Hump him thoroughly."

"WHAT?" I shriek. "Lilith!" I grab a pillow and launch it directly at her head.

Lilith practically falls apart laughing. "Okay, okay, sorry, just messing with you...but seriously though, would that really be so terrible? Okay fine, genuinely terrible advice. Bad Lilith," she admits. "Or is it though?"

"You are absolutely useless right now!" I exclaim. "Also, he's a total manwhore, possibly worse than Caleb even."

"Okay, I can see how that complicates things slightly."

"You think?"

"How exactly do you know he's a manwhore?"

"He's constantly surrounded by women."

"Like, literally women hanging off his arms constantly?"

"Well...not exactly that. More like they cluster around him, you know?"

"O-kay...but is he actually with any of them? Are they friends, or are they all involved with him romantically? Because honestly, he'd have to be a massive jerk asking you out while actively seeing someone else, right?"

"I don't know, Lilith! You're asking way too many questions here!" Ugh, honestly all I know for certain is that violent thoughts creep in whenever other girls hover near him, which happens constantly. This jealousy thing needs to disappear immediately, especially considering he's absolutely not mine.

"Besides, he's not even human," I tell Lilith.

I'd recently learned that Lilith's mother is human, mated to a werewolf. Somehow Lilith ended up the only sibling among four who never developed a wolf.

"What exactly is he then? Werewolf? Fae? Because if he's either, you should genuinely stay far away. You don't want to get hurt once he eventually finds his actual mate," Lilith warns.

God, that thought never even crossed my mind. What if he already has a mate somewhere out there? For some reason, that possibility genuinely bothers me. Significantly so.

Silence stretches between us for a moment.

"Was it difficult, finding out you didn't have a wolf?" I ask Lilith, desperately trying not to dwell on him having a mate. Another woman entirely. That thought actually stings.

Unlike me, Lilith's family adores her completely. Also unlike me, she desperately wishes she had a werewolf mate waiting somewhere.

She stays quiet long enough that I assume she won't answer at all. "People kept telling me some werewolves develop their wolf later than others. Some don't get theirs until sixteen, so I clung to that hope for years. When I turned sixteen and nothing happened, I was absolutely devastated. Miserable for ages afterward.

"Then when I hit eighteen, I hoped maybe I'd still get a mate regardless, but that never materialized either. My family tried comforting me constantly, especially my mom. She's human too, so she claimed she understood completely. Said we were essentially the same, except she has my father as her mate, so really, we're not the same at all.

"Then my younger sister found her mate, and I just couldn't handle it anymore. I was genuinely happy for her, but it highlighted everything I'd probably never experience myself. I decided staying in the pack wasn't sustainable anymore, so I relocated here instead. My family's not thrilled about my decision, but our pack territory isn't too far, so I visit whenever I want," she explains. "Truthfully though, some part of me still hopes I'll find a mate eventually."

Poor Lilith. She looks genuinely heartbroken. I launch myself off my bed straight onto hers, wrapping her in a fierce hug. We both topple sideways and Lilith starts laughing again immediately. "But hey, now you get to date human guys!" I remind her, squeezing tighter. "So many options, Lilith! It's basically an all-you-can-eat buffet! Delicious!"

"Oh, Freya, someday you'll understand this properly. A perfectly cooked, tender à la carte steak beats an entire buffet spread every single time, even surrounded by endless options. Especially when that steak happens to be filet mignon, absolutely the best possible choice, everything you've ever wanted, while the buffet's just mediocre garbage food stretched thin."

"So tell me honestly, Freya, if he weren't a player, if he were fully human, would you actually date him? Or will you just keep inventing fresh excuses to avoid him?"

"Ugh, but he is exactly that, Lilith. He's definitely a player, isn't he? Also, don't forget, I specifically don't want to get tangled up with the non-human variety." Do I really feel that way, though? "And I refuse to settle for someone else's steak. I want my own steak, exclusively."

So now the real question becomes, how exactly do I get him to back off? The bigger, more uncomfortable question is, do I genuinely even want him gone?

===≠=====≠=====≠====≠====≠=========≠

First class this morning, and there he sits, right beside me. Watching. I attempt ignoring him completely, though admittedly it's not working particularly well.

Morning sunlight streams through the windows, catching his golden hair perfectly. His green eyes, vivid and brilliant, stay locked entirely on me. He's devastatingly beautiful, honestly, almost painfully so.

"Why are you doing this?" I finally demand.

"Trying to convince you to go out with me, my princess."

"Why do you keep calling me your princess?"

"Because that's exactly what you are."

"Is that your standard line for every girl you're trying to sleep with? Does that particular approach usually work?"

"Okay, hold on," he says. "First, sleep with? Seriously? Second, I've literally never called another girl 'Princess.' Ever. Third, I'm not trying to sleep with you specifically, I'm trying to get you to agree to a date...though obviously that could happen eventually too, whenever you're ready honestly, doesn't necessarily need to wait that long either..."

I fix him with a withering glare.

"Sorry, got sidetracked there," he says, ducking his head slightly, hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. He actually manages to look bashful about it. Annoyingly, I find that expression completely adorable. "My actual point, sweetheart, is that I want us to properly get to know each other. So, dinner with me? Whenever works for you. Or honestly, I could just come help with that roof instead."

"No!" I squeak immediately. There's obviously no real roof issue whatsoever.

"Ouch, straight through the heart again," he says. He's smiling still, though his lips have thinned slightly over those straight white teeth. If I didn't know better, I'd genuinely believe I'd actually hurt his feelings somehow, his patience clearly wearing thin.

"Will you please just leave me alone now?" I ask directly.

"Is that honestly what you want, Princess?" His smile vanishes completely now. His eyes bore into mine, intense and searching. "Do you genuinely want me gone for good?"

Do I, though? I remind myself again, forcefully, that he isn't human, that some mate might exist for him somewhere out there, that he's undoubtedly a player. I could easily become just another meaningless notch somewhere.