Sleepy Head

The smell of breakfast reaches me before my eyes even open. Sunlight leaks through blind gaps. Saturday, finally, my favorite. Clock says just past eight. Way too early technically, but that food smell has my mouth watering already. Bed versus breakfast. Brutal choice this early. The struggle is real.

Ten minutes of internal debate later, decision made. That settles it. My stomach's rumbling loud enough to demand action.

Lilith's already at the stove, scrambled eggs and hash browns sizzling away. Coffee brewing in the percolator smells incredible.

"Morning, sleepyhead!" Lilith chirps.

"Morning, Lilith. Seriously, cooking breakfast? Marry me," I tell her. "If I swung that direction, anyway."

She laughs while Jacob, mouth stuffed at the breakfast table, winks at me, mostly because talking isn't an option right now. Nadia, feeding bread into the toaster, ignores us entirely.

Jacob and I get along better lately. His flirting's toned way down. Probably Caleb's doing somehow. Nadia mostly pretends I don't exist, which suits me fine.

"Bacon would really complete this," Jacob says, giving Lilith his best hopeful expression.

"No bacon here. Want some, cook it yourself," Lilith fires back.

She's plating our food beside Jacob when Caleb's bedroom door swings open, revealing a girl roughly my age strolling out. Red-and-white flannel knotted at her waist, Daisy Dukes, cowboy boots. Her dirty-blond hair's flattened stiffly to one side, eyeliner and mascara smudged beneath her eyes. Textbook walk of shame if I've ever seen one.

"Hi there!" she beams. Extremely friendly, this one.

"Didn't he have a different girl last weekend?" I mutter to Lilith while the newcomer eyes our food.

"Different girl every single week," Jacob murmurs back, smirking. "None of them official. Just watch, drama incoming."

"Why're you still hanging around?" Nadia snaps at the girl. "Breakfast isn't included with a one-night thing." Her glare could cut glass. The girl actually flinches like she's been struck, visibly scrambling for a response.

Something that looks suspiciously like jealousy flickers across Nadia's face watching Caleb emerge, keys jingling in hand.

"Ready, Nina? Somewhere else I need to be," Caleb says.

"It's Chloe," the girl corrects. "My name's Chloe."

"Sure," Caleb shrugs, completely indifferent.

"Just grabbing my purse and phone, still in your room," Chloe answers with a small pout.

Jacob, Lilith, and I sit frozen, mouths hanging open. It hits me suddenly: my cousin's basically a manwhore! No shortage of willing girls around this campus, clearly.

For the first time I actually assess my cousin critically, trying to see him through other girls' eyes. Rough-edged handsome, I suppose. Tall, dark shiny hair, intense dark brown eyes, sharp features, golden tan, muscular with tattoos, pierced ears, lip ring. Sure, some girls probably find that attractive...but he's my cousin. Gross.

"Random question, do STDs only hit humans, or do other creatures catch them too?" I ask Caleb while he steals a forkful of my eggs. Meaning werewolves, obviously.

"Why so judgmental suddenly?"

Judgmental? Sounded like a fair concern to me. "Someone's sensitive," I tease.

"You're incredibly annoying," he grumbles. True enough, but again, why point out the obvious?

Monday morning finds me humming while getting ready. Most people dread Mondays, though honestly they don't bother me much, even if Saturdays still win. Today especially I'm actually excited, mostly because for once I'm ditching that miserable hoodie for good.

I've picked out an adorable white sundress today, pink rose print trailing along the hem and neckline. Hair braided loosely into a fishtail along one side, lipgloss swiped on, tan strappy sandals completing the look. I adjust the delicate white gold chain around my neck, a small round pendant stamped with the letter F dangling from it, Nana's gift, worn constantly for as long as I can remember.

Lilith's bed sits already made, she's up despite no morning classes today. I resist calling myself a sexy beast again after that embarrassing first-day incident, just in case she's within earshot.

Caleb shoots me a disapproving look as I emerge from my room. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Honestly, he acts more paternal than my own father ever could, despite barely qualifying age-wise. He'd love nothing more than keeping me buried under that hoodie forever, hidden from every male on earth, banned from parties entirely. Given the choice, he'd probably lock me in my bedroom until I hit eighty.

Too bad I've got different plans involving plenty of normal, attractive human men. No built-in mate like werewolves get, so guess I'm stuck kissing my fair share of frogs before stumbling onto anything resembling Prince Charming.

Naturally my brain immediately conjures the golden blond god. Nope, absolutely not Prince Charming material, exactly the type I should be avoiding entirely. Hate that he's constantly invading my thoughts, even creeping into my dreams some nights. I'd honestly rather gouge my own eyes out with a plastic spork than confess that to a single living soul.

First class hoodie-free is going surprisingly well. Still friendless, but a few girls smile my way, plus I've caught guys checking me out, which feels genuinely nice after feeling completely invisible in that awful hoodie. Call it vanity, but invisibility never suited me. I'm no sexy beast, sure, but I'm definitely not hideous either. Plus I'm naturally friendly, occasional annoyingness aside.

"Hey, I'm Harper," a girl beside me whispers as lecture wraps up. Warm, open smile, mischievous kind eyes, short dark brown hair grazing her shoulders.

"Freya," I reply.

"Nice meeting you, Freya. This is Nolan," she continues. "He's been begging me to introduce you two."

Eyebrow raised, I lean forward to check out the guy beside her. He kicks her leg immediately, earning a laugh. "Ow, sorry, wasn't supposed to mention that. Ow!" Another kick follows apparently.

Nolan's genuinely cute, nerdy-adorable style, skinny build, dark-rimmed glasses. Basically a scrawnier, blushier Clark Kent. Ridiculously endearing.

Both completely human, exactly what I need right now.

Harper and Nolan, best friends since high school apparently, now my first two college friends. Pretty amazing, honestly. Between chatting and arranging study group plans, I end up running slightly behind for my next class. Not truly late, since I'm normally absurdly early anyway, today I'm cutting it perfectly close. Sprinting toward the next building, I nearly collapse with relief squeezing through the crowd flooding into the lecture hall doorway.

Immediately my attention snags on that same magnificent figure sprawled lazily center-auditorium. That golden god again. Heart squeezing, stomach twisting, every single time without fail.

White polo stretched taut across his chest today. Golden hair perfectly styled as always. A breeze sweeps through the open door and suddenly he straightens sharply, tilting his face upward like he's scenting the air, nostrils flaring, predatory almost. His gaze sweeps the crowd deliberately until it locks directly onto me. Intense, dark, fierce. Something shifts in the air around me instantly.