“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whined. “Paulette, how could you let me forget?” “Me? You’re the one who is always reminding me of what needs to be done! I could have sworn you knew,” Paulette said. “I’ve been a little distracted,” I said as I frantically labeled multi-colored folders with the names of my students’ parents. “By a hot shifter daddy who wants your gams?” Paulette asked. “By a scary shifter stalker breaking into my house,” I snapped back. “Right,” Paulette said. “Makes sense. Here, tear the list in half, and I’ll do the other ones.” It was lunchtime at POSHA, and the kids were all sitting out on the picnic benches with either their lunch boxes or the trays of lunch the school provided. We had approximately twenty minutes to get all of these folders labeled, stuff them with hastily written teacher bios, come up with an icebreaker game, and figure out what refreshments to offer our parents. It was parents’ night, which usually happened three or four weeks into the school yea

Bratt could go fuck himself.Okay, maybe that was a little strong. But who the hell did he think he was? We’d just had a heart-to-heart about boundaries the night before, and now he was commanding me to let his buddy take me to his house. Trying to force me into taking advantage of someone else’s hospitality? He had no right. I could take care of myself.As we watched Bratt streak into the darkness of the night, I looked over to Paulette. “Don’t call the cops,” I said.“But, the wolf toy,” Paulette said. “What if it’s something serious, Mar?”“The cops aren’t going to do anything, Paulette. Trust me. I have firsthand experience with this. And the last thing I want to hear right now is how this is just a stupid prank, or field questions about my past or my family, or anything like that.”“But—”“Paulette, I am asking you, as my friend, not to call the cops. I’m asking you to respect me enough to listen to what I want.”Paulette frowned at me and set her phone down. “Marley, if somethin

I woke a few hours later to the theme song for Adventure Hour. It startled me. Everything felt too loud, too much.Groaning, I lifted my head from where I’d slumped down onto the couch. I tried to remember falling asleep, tried to remember how I’d gotten into Bratt’s house again. The details came back to me in a slow drip, my brain booting up after the stressful evening. I sat up fully and stretched my arms over my head.The remote was on the coffee table next to the abandoned bowls from the dinner Bratt had made for us. I turned off the television and grabbed up the bowls, carrying them into the kitchen and placing them in the sink. I checked the time on the stove’s digital clock—it was the early hours of the morning. I could still get a few hours of sleep before I had to get up for the day.I rubbed my forehead. I felt like I was forgetting something important.Then it dawned on me that it was Friday night—I wouldn’t have work the next day. The first week of school had put me throug

The weekend passed way too quickly. It wasn’t like me to think that way right at the beginning of the school year, but I felt like I’d lived an entire month in the last five days. Regardless, I’d had just the weekend I’d needed. I read romance novels, drank wine, and talked to Lana over the phone about Travis—which was more like talking to a stone wall, to be honest. Still, when my alarm went off on Monday morning for my daily jog, I ignored it. My bed was far too seductive to leave behind, and I was completely at its mercy. Even when my second alarm went off to get ready for work, I snoozed it twice. As I brushed my teeth, I wondered if I wasn’t sleeping as deeply because I was subconsciously hyper-alert after the break-ins at my house. Whatever it was, I needed to do my best to act as normally as I could, even though I felt like a zombie. I was looking forward to one thing, though—seeing Bratt when he dropped off Noah. I tried to tell myself that I wasn’t, but as I welcomed the

Bratt “Are you trying to tell me you miss me?” I chuckled. “Does stoic, lone wolf Travis miss little old me?” “You’re making me regret asking if you want to get an early lunch,” Travis’s annoyed voice came through my phone speaker. “It’s not my fault you’ve forgotten the age-old edict of bros before h—” “Don’t. Do not finish what you’re about to say. I know you would never imply Marley is a h—” “Wholesome kindergarten teacher?” he interrupted in turn. “What’s wrong with that? Wait, did you think…Bratt Lucas, you should be ashamed. What would your mother think?” I laughed, the sound warm and full. In the chaos of my professional life and the tasks required of me as a father, it was easy to forget that Travis and I had been best friends since boyhood. “I guess you’re right. It has been ages since we hung out just as friends and not business partners.” “Yeah. So, lunch?” “I’ve got a few errands to run first. Let’s meet up at… I don’t know. What sounds good?” “How about a steakhou