Chapter 54

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After work, I hauled a load of groceries into the kitchen, arms laden with bags. Exhausted, but grateful to be back in my own home, I put them away before starting a load of laundry and carefully disposing of the now spoiled milk that lurked like a grenade in my fridge.

Most of all though, I tried to ignore how much I missed Malcolm.

For fuck's sake, you just spent a week together...

It didn't stop the hollow ache in my chest, the longing for his scent, his touch.

While the washer cycle ran, I changed into leggings and an old t-shirt, opting for comfort as I caught up on a week's missed chores.

I was opening the windows, trying to freshen the stale air, when I noticed the rain.

It started off as a light drizzle, but as the minutes passed, the faint mist turned into a shower, then a downpour, fat drops slapping against the pavement.

The sound of rain hitting the ground served as the backdrop as I set about meal prepping for the week - starting the rice cooker and beginning to chop vegetables for burrito bowls.

When my phone rang, I was in the midst of mincing garlic, the fragrant odor a mild preview of what was to come. Setting the knife down, I wiped my hands on a towel and grabbed the noisy device-

-and felt a rapid rush of warmth through me as I read Malcolm's name on the screen.

"Malcolm?"

"Hey, this is a bit of an ask, but..."

I frowned, "'But' what?"

"Could you come pick me up?"

Pick him up?

"What's wrong?"

"I'm not comfortable driving the Honda back in this rain, and it's not supposed to let up before the morning."

Looking toward the window, I eyed the steady torrent outside. I'd never driven a motorcycle, but even in a car, the stretch between the office and Malcolm's house would be rough tonight.

There's no way I'm letting him risk it.

"You're still at the office?"

"I was just finishing up and I noticed the weather-"

"I'll be right there - sit tight."



By the time I was back at the office, I'd hydroplaned twice in my haste. Parking right at the front door, a strong sense of gratitude washed over me as I watched the cover of Malcolm's bike get pelted with the unrelenting rain.

Thank god he called me...

Then, he appeared in the entrance, looking sheepish and slightly soggy.

Crossing the downpour, he pulled his leather jacket up, trying to protect his head.

Not that it made a difference - by the time he fell into the passenger seat, his hair was soaked, droplets of water running down his face.

"So," I began, "hope you're in the mood for burrito bowls."

Wiping a hand over his eyes, Malcolm looked at me, "Burrito bowls?"

Watching as he pulled his seatbelt across his body, I said, "I was working on meal prep when you called - rice is in the rice cooker as we speak."

"Oh - you don't have to do that-"

I scoffed, "I'm not having a male werewolf in my home overnight without feeding him."

Seeming concerned, he assured me, "Seriously, I don't want to inconvenience you. If you want, you can drop me off at my house - I'll take the truck tomorrow and-"

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