A werewolf's life is a constant battle, but a chance to meet your soulmate eases the trials for most. Trae is happy with the mate he's given, a cute and daring girl who meets all of his expectations, but his brother Leroy... not so much. He is sure...
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I was lucky I had already paid for my goddamn chicken.
There I was, putting my card away at the register, when I felt it.
A sort of . . . chill.
That feeling you get when you think someone is watching you. Which was exactly what my soulmate was doing at that moment, though I didn't know it yet.
I wonder what would have happened if I didn't turn around, if I didn't look into his eyes. Maybe I would've never found out who he was. Maybe I would've met someone else. But I did look at him, and the moment our eyes met, my heart jumped. I rubbed my chest as he smiled at me—the kind of friendly smile you give to a neighbor, not necessarily a familiar smile—and I was so distracted by my skipping pulse that I almost forgot to smile back. It didn't even occur to me what had happened until I started toward the exit and felt my pants getting tighter.
"You get hard when you meet your soulmate, remember?"
"Shit," I whispered, moving my shopping bag in front of me.
There was a row of chairs by the exit of the grocery store that always seemed to me like a waste of space, but today I raced over. My blood was going to all the wrong places, and it left me feeling both hot and cold.
This didn't make any sense. It shouldn't be him—it shouldn't be a man.
I had never even considered the option. I wasn't attracted to men. I never had been. Even when a kid in my class came out of the closet, I didn't spend a moment questioning my own preference. Just like he'd always known he was gay, I'd always known I was straight. He liked guys. I didn't. So what the fuck was going on? When I'd been wishing I could meet my mate, this was not what I meant.
He was young—barely out of high school, probably. Then again, East Asian men often looked pretty young, I'd noticed. Pretty, too. Which he was. Not feminine, but . . . delicate, maybe. His limbs were lean and smooth as a baby's. Black hair framed his face in a sort of disheveled way, much like his clothes. Scuffed sneakers, knee-cut jeans, a wrinkled black t-shirt with a print of some movie or video game. His dark eyes sought me out again as he finished paying, and I pulled my gaze away with my heart in my throat. I reached inside my pocket and found it empty.
I'd left my phone at home.
Well, shit.
Then again, there wasn't much my brother could say that I didn't already know, anyway. Unless I wanted to live the rest of my life by myself, I would have to talk to this guy. But it was hard to see the point. He was a man, for God's sake.
If I believed in Mother Nature, I'd be cursing Her right now. Hell, this was almost enough to make me believe. I met my soulmate the day after my brother. What are the chances of that? My soulmate being a man on top of that . . . ? It must be Her idea of a joke or something. Funny.
