Eighteen
1035 Words
Marissa
My fingers tightened around the glass as I made my way back to Wendy. I wasn’t in the mood for any more nonsense, but fate clearly had other plans.
Justine was with her.
Great. Just great.
She watched me with that familiar desire in her eyes, grinning as if suppressing a sigh. I extended the drink to Wendy.
Her manicured fingers brushed against mine deliberately, and she examined the glass as if expecting me to have poisoned it.
I had no energy to engage in whatever power play Wendy was trying to set up. Both Wendy and Justine were looking at me like I was a particularly fascinating specimen under a microscope.
Unlike Wendy, who thrived on being condescending, Justine seemed intrigued.
"Anything else?" I asked Wendy, hoping to extract myself from the situation.
"If it isn’t my favorite assistant," Justine said, leaning against my table with a relaxed smile playing on her lips. "How’s your day going?"
"It’s been eventful," I said, keeping my voice polite. "You?"
She shrugged. "Same old, you know how it is—dodging family drama and making sure my brother doesn’t combust under the weight of his own brooding."
I returned her smile. Wendy sipped from her drink, watching us. Then Justine turned to Wendy.
"Why is she running errands for you?"
Wendy feigned surprise. "Oh, so this is the Marissa," she said, dragging out my name with a slow smile. Her friend immediately nudged her in the ribs.
"Don’t start."
Wendy held her hands up in mock innocence. "What? You’ve been raving about her for days. It’s only natural I’d want to see what all the fuss is about."
Just as I expected, Wendy leaned forward, condescending as always, but this time, there was a flicker of amusement in her tone.
"Do you realize the privilege of being courted by the Lycan Princess?" she asked. "She’s a royal—the kind of woman who turns heads and commands respect just by breathing."
She leaned forward, so close that I could see the flecks of green in her eyes. "And you, my dear, would be lucky to be on her arm."
Chuckling, I pulled my chair back. "That’s very flattering, but I’m straight, and I have a boyfriend."
Wendy scoffed, arching her perfectly lined brows. "A werewolf boyfriend? Compared to her? Come on, you can do better."
"Okay, that’s enough," Justine interjected. "I can speak for myself."
The entire thing felt like an elaborate joke—Wendy trying to push her best friend onto me, and poor Justine, who was actually being quite sweet, unknowingly trying to win over someone she shouldn’t even be looking at twice.
Not only was I her brother’s mate—the revelation that would send shockwaves through their family—but I wasn’t supposed to be liked by her. If the truth ever came out, they’d turn on me in an instant, and I’d find myself at the center of their fury.
But now, it was just amusing—Wendy playing spokesperson, and Justine being flirtatious.
The f*****g irony.
"I find it downright insulting that you’re groveling for a werewolf," Wendy said to her friend, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
Justine shot her a playful glare. "I’m not groveling. I’m expressing interest."
"Same thing," Wendy muttered, shooting me an unimpressed look.
The sound of a door clicking made all three of us turn.
Justin—the star of the show—stepped out, phone pressed to his ear.
I watched as Wendy launched herself toward him, wrapping her arms around him in a way that was more possessive than affectionate. Her lips grazed the side of his jaw.
Justin wasn’t looking at Wendy. His eyes were on me. And his sister.
The awkwardness was subtle—only he and I seemed to recognize it. He looked at me briefly before glancing away.
"Since we’re all here, I might as well invite you to my gathering tomorrow night," his sister said, turning to me with a hopeful look. "You have to come. It’ll be fun, I promise."
"I’d love to, but I’m heading home for the weekend to spend time with my family," I offered a regretful smile. "I’d be happy to come next time."
She smiled, disappointed but not pressing the issue. "Fine. Rain check."
---
The Weekend Visit
On Friday, after work, I folded my things into my overnight bag with little enthusiasm. The idea of going home for the weekend wasn’t exactly thrilling, but I missed my brother, Brian, and his girlfriend, Shelby.
Everything else—my dad, my stepmother, and the inevitable conversation about whether I had found a man—I could do without.
Zipping up the bag with a sigh, I adjusted the strap over my shoulder when a knock interrupted my thoughts.
"Need help with your bag, girlfriend?" Hector drawled, leaning against the doorframe. I tossed a spare pair of shoes into my tote.
"You just love saying that, don’t you?"
He grabbed my bag before I could protest. "I feel like you’ve been avoiding me," he said playfully, but there was a serious look in his gaze.
"Why would I do that?"
"Hmm, let’s see… Maybe because we’re supposed to be dating, but I haven’t even gotten a damn hi from you all day. No fake couple selfies either."
"Fake dating is office-only. That was the deal. It doesn’t extend to weekends or home visits."
Hector clutched his chest dramatically. "Ouch. Just crush my fragile heart, why don’t you?"
I chuckled, grabbing my coat.
He turned around. "Speaking of heart-crushing—Alan and Jenny are having their baby’s dedication."
I stilled, narrowing my gaze at him. "And why exactly are you telling me this?"
Hector looked at me strangely. "Wait… so you’re really never getting back together? Not even a little nostalgic 'she was my best friend' moment?"
A humorless laugh escaped my lips. "Not even in another lifetime."
His smirk softened. "Your friendship was the friendship back then. People admired you two."
I grabbed my keys. "Things change. Not all friendships are meant to last forever—especially not ones built on betrayal."
Hector nodded, stepping aside to let me pass. "Fair point.”
- Writer
