The trap

I sink down against our front door, back pressed to the wood. Heartbeat gradually slowing toward something resembling normal...mostly.

I keep knocking my skull backward against the door repeatedly. Eyes shut, replaying that intense stare that pinned me in place. Those eyes. My heart absolutely hammering. He looked utterly transfixed, and somehow I couldn't tear my own gaze away either. Frozen there by the lecture hall entrance, completely trapped. Forgot entirely how breathing or movement worked. Everything else simply dissolved. Just the two of us existing. No clue how long that lasted before someone crashed into me from behind, snapping the spell. That predatory hunger etched across his gorgeous face triggered pure fight-or-flight instinct. Flight won easily. I spun around and bolted like something demonic was chasing me.

I can vaguely recall the journey back here. Remember sprinting blindly, disappearing into a crowd of students funneling into some lecture hall. The crowd just swallowed me whole and carried me along. In one door, out another. Legs pumping. Pumping harder. Hopping on a bus. Trudging the rest of the way home on foot, and now here I sit, trying to untangle what the hell just happened back there. Did it even happen? Why would it happen? Was that really him chasing after me, or did I just imagine footsteps behind me? What did I just walk into? What did I even do?

Great, I completely missed class.

I park myself on the front step for a good long while. Just sitting. Just thinking. Thinking has never been my strong suit, honestly. Once my pulse and breathing finally settle back down, I push myself up and let myself inside.

Jacob's sprawled at home, working through a sandwich while some youtube clip plays on his phone. "What're you doing back already?" he asks, clearly caught off guard. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Uh...ditched today," I admit.

"Sick or something?"

"Not feeling great." Sure, we'll go with that. Really I'm a jumbled mess, half-breathless, heart doing weird things, somewhere between thrilled and terrified. Close enough to "not feeling great," right?

"You ditched the hoodie too," he notices.

"Oh look, another genius observation," I say.

"Another what?"

"Captain Obvious, reporting for duty."

"That's me," he confirms, sounding weirdly pleased about it.

"Hey, real question, Jacob. What's the hoodie actually do? Does it smell bad to you guys too, or just humans?"

"Doesn't affect me at all. It's for whoever's wearing it. And no, it's not pleasant. Obviously."

"Obviously." Eye roll. "So what exactly does it do for the wearer?"

"Masks your scent," he explains. "Makes you read as an Omega. Boring, harmless, completely beneath notice. And here's the thing, the stronger the werewolf, the more invisible you become to them. An Alpha probably wouldn't even register you exist."

Huh. Didn't see that coming. I sit with that information a moment, and suddenly hobo hoodie's earning a lot more respect from me, stench included. "So how'd Caleb end up with it?"

"Beats me," he shrugs, returning to his sandwich.

"Why're you even home right now?" I ask, steering us elsewhere.

"Client meeting at noon. Figured I'd eat here first."

Hold up. "Client? What exactly is it you do, Jacob?"

"Real estate," he says. Seriously???

"What's that face for?" he asks, catching my stunned expression.

He's dressed sharp, crisp white shirt, pressed slacks, but I genuinely could not have guessed real estate in a hundred years.

"Wow, that expression's kind of offensive," he says between bites.

"Bruising your delicate ego over here?"

"Deeply wounded, yes."

"How long you been doing this?"

"This 'gig,'" he mutters, chewing. "Not long. Pretty new, actually."

"So what does Caleb do, then?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"No clue. Guy's basically a locked vault, not exactly chatty. Gives off major Alpha energy even though his old man was apparently just a Beta. Most people wouldn't dare talk to him the way you do," he says. "Day one you showed up, he warned me he'd end my future kids if I so much as looked at you wrong. Not that you're not gorgeous, because you are, but I like having kids someday."

Ahh, so Caleb was behind that after all.

"So what's the video, anyway?" I nod toward his phone.

"Cats being idiots. Hilarious stuff. Join me? Few more minutes left."

"Sure," I say. "Also, wow, that's a serious sandwich stockpile. Nana always said sharing's basically a love language."

"Noted."

"So...sharing?"

"Absolutely not. Get your own."