bChapter /b11

bThree /bYears Later

bSkye’s /bPOV

Yes, the town was actually called Boring.

bI /bhadn’t made that up. This was probably some Texan’s idea of humor.

Here, I encountered people who were both traditional and freely passionate. My little red car looked like a shy schoolgirl next to their massive pickup trucks. I suspected they viewed me the same way.

I walked into a bar called ‘The Watering Hole” to apply for a bartending position. The owner, a barrel–chested man with a salt–and–pepper beard and weathered skin that told stories of decades under the Texas sun, looked me up and down skeptically.

His name tag read “Buck“.

“I reckon you ain’t even old enough to drink, are ya?” Buck drawled, arms bcrossed /bover his chest. “What’s the matter? Got into a fight with your folks and bran /baway? This line of work ain’t suitable for a littledy like yourself.”

I couldn’t me him for his assumption. Standing at barely five–foot–four, wearing an oversized hoodie that swallowed my frame, I looked neither mature nor bsexy/b. Without waiting for permission, I pulled out my ID, slid behind the bar, and efficiently mixed bseveral /bstrong cocktailsb. /bI handed one to Buckb, /bbthen /bdowned mine in ba /bsingle gulp.

Ever since I’d caught the scent of my mate at eighteen, my sense of smell had be extraordinarily acute, despite not having my wolf. Andpared to regr humans, alcohol barely affected werewolves. Our metabolism and healing abilities bwere /bmany times stronger than those bof /bordinary people.

Buck’s eyes widened bas /bbhe /bbsipped /bthe drink I’d handed him.

“Well, damn,” he muttered. “Where’d you learn to mix like thatb?/bb” /b

“Here and there,” bI /breplied with a shrug. “Want to make a bet? bIf /bbI /bcan outdrink your strongest regrb, /bbI /bg the job with a fifteen percent sry bump. bIf /bbI /blose, I’ll walk out right now.”

Buck’s boomingugh filled the barb. /bb“/bbYou’re /bon, littledy.”

The strongest regr bturned /bout to be a burly rancher named Dale who prided himself on his ability to drink anyone under the tableb. /bThree hourster, Dale was face–down on the bar while bI /bnursed what must have been bmy /bfifteenth shot, showing no signs bof /bintoxication.

“How in tarnation did byou /bdo that? bYou /bain’t cheating somehow, are you?“Buck stared at me.

Iughed and shrugged, spinning a quick lie. “My grandfather used to own a small brewery back home. bIf /bgrowing up sampling his products counts bas /bcheating, then yeah, I guess I cheated. Of bcourse/b, minors shouldn’t drink alcohol, I added with a wink.

b“/bbYou /bstart tomorrow,” Buck said, shaking his head in disbelief. b“/bAnd you bget /byour fifteen percent.”

Life in Boring, bTexas /bwasn’t actually boring at all.

Within my first bfew /bweeks at bThe /bWatering Hole, I’d made ba /bfriend in Jessieb, /ba waitress with fire–engine bred /bhair and ba /bbugh /bthat bcould /bcut through the noisiest bFriday /bnight crowd..

“That one bthere/bb,/bb” /bshe’d whisperb, /bnodding toward the door as various patrons enteredb, /b“cheats on his taxes. And himb? /bThird divorce this year. Ohb, /band bstay /bbaway /bfrom Randy–handsy after his fourth beer.“/

bJessie’s /brunningmentary made the shifts fly by, and for bthe /bfirst time in three byears/b, bI /bfound myself looking forward bto /bgoing bto /bbwork/b.

bThen /bbthere /bbwas /bbCaleb/b, ba /byoung, handsome cowboy who starteding in almost bevery /bnight. bHe /balways ordered the same thing, a whiskey bsour/bb, /bband /bbalways /bfound ba /bbreason /bto sit at the bar rather than at a table, even when the ce bwas /bnearly empty.

bChapter /bb11 /b

b“/bbHe’s /bsweet on byou/bb, /bBuck would tease whenever Caleb left, his face flushed red, words stumbling over each other as he bid me goodnight.

t balways /bshook my head in response. “Love isn’t in the cards for me,” I’d say, “especially not with a human.”

bBuck /braised an eyebrow.

“Human? As opposed to what–an alien?‘ Heughed.

Just a figure of speech. You know what I mean.”

If Buck suspected anything, he never mentioned it again. Perhaps he chalked it up to the entricities of youth. Whatever the case, he seemed content to have me around, especially after discovering that my reputation as an unbeatable drinking partner was good for businessb. /b

Cowboys and ranch hands came in to challenge me to drinking contests. They walked in with confident swagger. They walked out with humbled, stumbling steps. Most left much poorer than when they came.

“Girl, you’re better than a mechanical bull for bringing in customers, Buck dered one night, sliding an envelope across the bar to me. Inside was an extra b$/b500 bonus with my month–end pay. b“/bKeep it up.”

I’d been in Boring for two months when spring arrived.

I rented a tiny studio apartment above the town’s onlyundromat, bought a few pieces of secondhand furnitureb, /band even hung curtainsb. /b

During my time here, I hadn’t encountered ba /bsingle werewolf. Perhaps it was because the environment wasn’t conducive to werewolf habitationb–/bbwe /btypically preferred forests with their abundant game and natural cover.

This ce felt safe. If luck bwas /bon my bside/b, I might even stay through the entire summer before moving on.fnc3a7 Th? link to the orig?n of this information r?sts ?n f?ndnovel/fnc3a7

That night, Caleb sat quietly at the bar for nearly half an hour, his whiskey sour long gone and the bss /bempty. I wiped down the counter absently, then nced over and asked, “Want to try something elseb? /bYou’ve never ordered ba /bcocktail beforeb./bb” /b

He hesitated, then nodded. b“/bYeah… yeah, sureb./bb” /b

I started mixing a drink without looking up, but his voice came out shaky, almost like he was trying to gathe rage. “Skye… there’s something I want to tell you.”

I kept my eyes on the bottles, my mind only half on him. “What is bit/bb?/b”

Before Caleb could answer, the bar door suddenly mmed open with a heavy thud.

Heads snapped toward the entranceb. /b

bIn /bthe doorway stood a man easily six–foot–three. The dim light caught his sharp bfeatures /b– high cheekbones, ba /bstrong jaw softened by just the right amount of stubble, and eyes the bdeep /bamber of whiskeyb, /bglowing faintly under the bar’s muted glow. His dark hair was slightly btousled/b, curling naturally at the nape of his neck, as if he’d just run his fingers through it.

He looked like he had stepped straight out of a Hollywood action movie.

Jessie grabbed bmy /barm, eyes wide with excitement.

b‘/bOh bmy /bgod! Please tell me he’s single. I’d climb him like ba /btreeb./bb” /b

bBut /bmy heart sank.

bBecause /bI knew.

bHe /bbwas /ba bwerewolf/b. Or more precisely, an Alpha.