Her Impossible Mate

8- Game On

Roommate wanted - $600 1090sqft / Downtown 2bed 2 bath apartment. Double bedroom available connected private bathroom with built-in closet space. The apartment has in-unit laundry, central AC, is fully furnished (except bedroom) and has roof access. Utilities will be split 50/50, usually around $100. Looking for laid back people with respect for personal space. Wine drinkers and dog people only.

Dog person... Get it?

My laptop balances atop my crossed legs as I sit on my bed and stare down at the lacklustre ad. Cami was so desperate to live with Kevin that she moved before the end of this months rent. She also promised to pay for her share of next months rent so that I would have some time to sort stuff out. Writing this ad is the first step. Though my heart isn't really in it because I don't want a new roommate. I have some quirks that take some getting used to... transforming into a wolf being one of them. The thought of sharing with a human felt stressful because I would have to be careful about what I said and did. And the possibility of finding a packless wolf who is compatible is is practically zero.

Though, maybe I can stop worrying about all that. Because without a job, I can't even cover my half and will have to give up this apartment altogether. 

Jamie offered me my job back and has been texting me all weekend since our steamy dance at the club. Things are definitely still beyond professional boundaries, so it feels strange accepting his offer. If he hadn't had these feelings towards me, I bet he'd be satisfied with me never setting foot in the club again. But also, the only thing I really enjoyed about the job was the money. And the occasional opportunity to put a man in his place, even when only in my underwear. 

The texts between Jamie and I have been flirty. When my phone goes off, little butterflies swirl in my stomach and an involuntary smile slips out. The notification of his last message turned my stomach upside down. I can see exactly what it said- "We should get dinner sometime soon." He'd sent it on Saturday night and it was now Monday morning. Though I had seen the message, I was too scared to open it and most definitely too scared to respond. I haven't had much time in my life for dating, y'know, with dead parents, an abusive pack, then being a runaway teen, etcetera. The most I'd managed were a few dates in the last few years and a couple of hookups to scratch that itch. This situation left me feeling like a clueless teen again. And then there was the added complication of Zander.

The longer this bond circulates, the more I feel drawn to him. It's not even just the desire I feel for him- and damn, he is so delicious- I also feel this overwhelming need to just be there for him. Like I want to make sure he's happy and safe, and it's infuriating. I don't even know him! 

For the seventh time since Friday night, I search his name. It pops up after typing the first three letters as my most recent search. Every article on the first few pages of the results is purple because I've already read it. I keep expecting to find something new, something that tells me he's not a rich, arrogant jackass and is, in fact, Prince Charming in disguise. So far, no such luck.

I release a sigh and start to close my laptop in defeat. Just as the screen turns black, I notice a new article has popped up. Frowning, I open the screen fully again and click on the news article that has just been published this second. 

Destiny.

The title captures my attention as it's not even comparable to the others. 

Heroux Family to Hold Annual Fundraiser for Children's Charities: This year, Alexander Heroux steps into his father's shoes to host the cities most significant fundraising efforts of the year in support of homeless youths and children living in poverty. Heroux and his sister, Selena Heroux, have set up their own foundation to help homeless young people turn their lives around. The foundation focuses on providing education, healthcare and financial support to access appropriate accommodation. In an interview, Mr Heroux said: "Children are our future. They do not deserve to suffer for the choices of those who brought them into this world. Supporting these young people can lead to their success and lead to a better future for us all. We cannot afford to continue to fail them."

Wow.

The article continues with stories of the heartwarming work Zander's foundation has done. There are pictures of him smiling while playing basketball with some teens. More photos of him and his sister show their hands-on work, and it takes me by surprise. If I was more cynical, I'd think this was forced publicity. That his PR team are working overtime to recover from the scandals of his early twenties. But he's never struck me as someone who cares about what others think of him. A closer look at the photos shows me he is genuine, like the chuckles and smiles of our softer moments. He enjoys helping those children.

I chew at my lip and tap my nails against the keyless spaces on my laptop. My head flops back, and I close my eyes. My mind likes to swing from running as far away from Zander as possible to considering accepting the bond we share about fifty times a day. I have a lot of questions about the whole thing. Number one being how the hell could this happen to a runaway mongrel like me! 

I could just dip my toe in. Just see what this is all about, get the answers I want. The answers I need. What if I just speak to Zander? Just to see what he can offer. I need a job if I'm going to keep a roof over my head. This is the best job offer I have. 

I bury my face in my hands and let out a groan. My mind is made up. I type Crescent Corp into the search engine to get the address. It's in the city centre, in the business district amongst the other affluent companies in their tall buildings. Quickly, I book a car before I change my mind. 

Slamming the laptop closed a little harshly, I hop from the bed and decide it's probably best to change out of my sweats. 

I throw on a cute black smock dress, the weather still forgiving enough for a summer dress. Or my version of summer, at least. Black is my happy colour. 

I pull my hair away from my face into a slightly undone bun, little wisps of my dark strands fall to frame my face. Desperate to look nice but not forced, I apply a light tint to my skin, though my cheeks are already flushed from my angst. A sweep of bronzer to my cheeks and eyes gives me a sun kissed appearance, and a swipe of lipgloss finishes the simple look.

My phone notifies me the car I have ordered is here, and I suddenly rethink this decision. I shouldn't go. I still don't want this forced mate bond. But I know I'm drawn to him. I want him. No. F*ck. 

Shaking my head at myself, I force myself to leave my apartment and head down to the waiting Lyft. My knee bounces in agitation as I watch the pedestrians blur past. My stomach makes squirming noises as it knots tighter with each minute we get closer.

The car pulls to a stop outside the needlessly large skyscraper plastered with the Crescents logo. From the seat of the car, I can't even crane my neck the right way to see the full extent of its height. Again I question if this is a good idea. Can you just turn up at these places? Probably not. I shake my head to shake away the negative thoughts before paying the driver and stepping onto the busy sidewalk.

I feel insignificant in the crowds of busy business people, swallowed by the imposing buildings towering above me. My decision is made. He offered me a job, and I need a job. 

Taking a deep breath, I straighten my back and hold my head high as I stride towards the main entrance. Through the sliding doors, the crowd calms only slightly. The noise of constant phones ringing echoes through the sleek entrance hall.

I walk purposefully to a woman standing at the reception. She is gorgeous. Hair brushed to sleek perfection, her blouse whiter than any I'd seen. Trying not to show any fear, I stand patiently waiting for her to address me.

"Good morning, welcome to Crescent Corp. Who is your appointment with today?" Her voice is business-like, but her eyes scan over me inquisitively. I probably don't look like their typical customer.

"I'd like to speak with Zander, please." I keep my voice level, refusing to show any nerves. I feel like this is a mistake.

"Zander? What department, sorry?" Right, they probably don't call him Zander. Or maybe she assumes a nobody like me couldn't have an appointment with the boss. She'd be right though, I don't have one.

"Um, Alexander... Mr Heroux, please." Her neutral face falters at his name. Again I fake confidence.

"You have an appointment with Mr Heroux?" Now she's being judgy, her eyes raking over me again as if to say I wasn't even worthy to say his name. B*tch.

"No. I don't have an appointment. He's expecting me... Well, probably not, but-" 

"I'm afraid you cannot speak with Mr Heroux without an appointment." She cuts me off before I can even finish. Maybe for the better as it was coming out all jumbled.

I take a deep breath to compose myself. I could leave now, but I've already made it this far. And something makes me want this to woman know I'm important enough to see the boss. Time to get assertive. And maybe a little mean, if she deserves it.

"Trust me, sweetie. You're going to want to call him and tell him I'm here. Tell him it's Raine." She narrows her eyes at my tone, but I stand firm. She doesn't move, just staring at me in annoyance. She's bothering me now.

"Your job might depend on this." One of my brows raises up, a bitchy smile crossing my lips. 

She takes a moment, huffs slightly and picks up the phone. She hushes her volume, but I hear her one-sided conversation.

"Sorry to bother you, Mr Heroux... There's a woman here requesting to see you... I know, sir, she's quite insistent... She says her name is Raine." My heart squeezes in my chest as I wait to hear if he'll see me after I ran away from him. Again.

"Oh- Sor- Of course. Right away, sir." The woman looks rather sheepish as she places the phone down and returns her attention to me.

"He'll see you now, Miss." I give her a smug look, although my stomach is in my chest with nerves. She directs me over to the elevator and tells me to push the button for the top floor.

I stand alone in the elevator on its ascent to the top. My hands are clasped in front of me, and I fidget nervously with my fingers, bouncing in place with the restless energy. If this really is a mistake, it's too late now. 

Warmth floods me, and the hum in my chest increases as I near the last stop. The doors ping open, but my gaze fixes on the floor, scared for what awaits. I can sense him immediately. Just his presence overpowering me, the feelings of safety and security cocoon me with his proximity.

I raise my head slowly, our eyes connecting instantly. We are like magnets, drawn to each other in every way. His face is firm, with a slight wrinkle at his brow showing the frequency of his deep frown. He is back in his slick business attire- navy tailored suit, hair swept to the side neatly. No sign of the chains and loose curls that made me tingle with desire at the club. Don't get me wrong, he's still damn attractive. But I get the sense he feels more relaxed in his casual clothes.

"Raine. This way, please." His voice seems void with no playfulness or sign of the man I've met previously. Maybe this is the cold Alpha persona he has at work. Or maybe, this is the real him.

He gestures for me to walk and joins me at my side. Just as before, his hand rests firmly on the small of my back to guide me. I feel the eyes of everyone burning through me. There is less chatter and general office noise as we walk past. Zander doesn't flinch, of course, but the sudden attention makes me feel uneasy. Feeling uncomfortable, I tug at the hem of my dress as we walk. I am most definitely underdressed for this environment and feel so out of place.

Zander guides me through large double doors leading into an open and minimal office. He steers me over to his desk and gestures to the chair across from his.

"Sit." I want to object to the command, but my body responds instantly. He walks around to sit at the other side of the desk. His sizeable frame folds into his chair with surprising grace. He shifts to get comfy. His right ankle rests on his left knee, his elbow on the armrest. Looking deep in thought, he places his chin in his hand rubs at his stubble. We stay in silence, his eyes squinting as he thinks before he speaks. I continue fidgeting with my hem in the not so comfortable silence.

"This is a surprise." He sits a bit straighter, his thinking time over. "And why do I have the pleasure of your company today?" His face is still firm, his tone plain. This exterior was not just a show for the people outside those doors, and I feel annoyed he treats me with such formality, though I don't know why I should expect differently. I have ran away a total of three times now. I've given him no indicators we are on good terms. Which I suppose we are not.

"Your offer." I match his firm and professional tone. He drops his foot and drags his chair closer to his desk so he can rest both arms on it, his hands clasped in front of him.

We stare hard into each other's eyes. His bright blue eyes look a little duller than in the club, and the sparkle is a touch less visible in this environment. Annoyingly, I could still get lost in them easily. A brief flicker of a smirk tugs at his lips before he speaks.

"The job offer is no longer available." He leans back casually, unaffected by my change in expression to his cold words. My nostrils have flared, my jaw clenching hard in frustration. I shoot daggers at him with my eyes, desperate to lunge and land a punch to his smug face.

"What game are you playing, Zander?" I try not to let my anger flood out, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of affecting me so much.

"No game. It was a time sensitive offer. The time ran out. Just like you did." What an arrogant asshole. I refuse to stay in his presence any longer.

"F*ck you." I stand swiftly and march for the door. 

"Raine." His voice is calm, but I ignore him. If I address him, I might not be able to stop myself from giving him a beating. I'd most probably lose, but even landing a few punches would be worth it.

I reach out for the handle of the door, but his strong arm reaches over my head to hold the door closed. Sighing in frustration, I turn to face him, using all my restraint not to push him away from me.

His other hand presses against the door too, and he now has me caged between his hard body and the door I cannot open. He's had to lean down slightly, so we are now face to face. His face is infuriatingly calm, almost teasing me.

"It's not nice not getting what you want, huh?" He mocks me with his tone and crooked smirk. He leans even closer, his breath fanning my cheek as he moves his mouth to my ear. He pauses briefly, and I have to force my body not to melt into him. My body wants to explode in his presence, to bend to his every whim. But I won't give in. I can't

"I want you, Raine." I breathe in deep at his words, my stomach swirls and I feel my body flush. He inhales my scent at my exposed neck, his chest rumbling lowly as he exhales. Having him so close is causing me to come undone, my mind unable to function in this position.

He pulls back sharply, our faces now only inches apart again. I almost feel lost at his lack of closeness, even though he still has me imprisoned with his powerful frame. What would happen if I just gave in? Let him claim me now? F*ck.

"I will have what's mine. And I will have you begging for me to claim you."His voice is low and rough. I can hear and feel his need, his muscles flexing and jaw tensing with restraint. His head dips slowly, our noses brushing and our lips a whisper apart. If I tilt my head ever so slightly, our lips could meet. I'm hungry for the taste of him, and it would be so easy to give in to desire. 

Before I have the chance to surrender to his lips, he pulls back pointedly and turns to walk away. I'm left taking quick calming breaths, the heat in my core pulsing through me.

"Come back tomorrow. 9am."

And with that, I'm dismissed. His focus is no longer on me as he sits facing the computer. I stand bereft of his touch, my mind a mess of lust and desire.

So he likes games? Ok, Mr Heroux. Game on.