Tater Tot

“Move in? With you…? Before being mates? While you are still seeing other girls?” I ask, my eyes wide with shock. 

“Yes,” he starts and then stops and sucks in a deep breath. “As you know, I’m rather busy, traveling all the time. So when I have downtime, I like to decompress, relax at home in my pack, in my pack house.”

“I guess that’s fair.” I tilt my head, seeing his point.

I can imagine traveling all the time leaves little left to be enjoyed except what is missing: home. Not that I know anything about that. Aside from moving from my family home to my apartment in mid city, I’ve traveled to the edge of the pack and back again a few times. I’d like to be sick of traveling.  

“I am asking a few of you, potential mates, ladies I can see myself wanting to take a relationship further with, to stay with me for a while. To minimize travel and allow you all to get to know me in my natural environment. I’m more than an alpha, and I want you all to see me behind my title.” He clarifies, and my heart pinches.

It’s kind of cute, him wanting to be sure he gets someone who wants him, truly, and not just what he offers. Yes, we are werewolves, yes we have fated mates. But they didn’t want us. They rejected us, and being rejected is not a confidence builder. So his request, though very out there weirdly, makes sense and feels just as romantic as he seems to be.

I should think about it, talk it over with River and get her input, but for the past two weeks, I’ve been living on impulse. Something out of the ordinary for me and it’s been so liberating. So I reach out and take his hand in mine.

“Okay.” I say as my chest tightens and a shy smile breaks across my lips. “I accept.”

“Yeah?” He asks looking shocked, but the look is replaced with a luminous smile and he chuckles.

“Yeah.” I nod, emphatically. 

“I thought I had scared you off when you saw me in your kitchen.” He jokes and I snort a laugh. 

“You came with caffeine and pastries, Artemis. Keep bringing your A game and who knows where this will end?”

He shrugs, bringing my hand to his lips. “Happily ever after, hopefully.” 

We both grow silent for a moment, the reality of what I just agreed to trying to creep in and ruin the excitement of it all. He clears his throat and nods toward a small boutique on the corner of the street. The one where the upper ranking wolves go, you know, the Alpha and his wolves and the visiting upper echelon.

This boutique is not for the likes of me. Not that they don’t have beautiful items. My gosh they do, but beautiful items mean I have to take extra care. And I’m not all that adept at not dropping ice cream on my shirt or spilling some coffee down my blouse.

“Come. Let me buy you a few outfits. My time is tight here today, but I want to see what you choose.” He says casually, glancing at his watch before smiling up at me.

I nibble on my lip, unease ebbing up my spine, but I push it back and step into the boutique. The first thing that hits me is the delicate smell of silk and satin dancing with the fragrance of lilac and light lavender. It’s calming and homey. A female pack mate I’ve seen many times in passing rushes over and greets us with a genuine smile. 

“Alpha Artemis, it’s so wonderful that you could convince her to come along.” She smiles wide, her eyes squinting with genuine delight. 

“I agree. Tatum here is very agreeable.” He gives her a gentle nod of approval and she rushes us over to a quaint antique French couch.

Within minutes, there is an array of stunning outfits before me. None of which I would actually wear. Not that they aren’t amazing, they are. But they are too amazing for the likes of my clumsy self. The beautiful display of beige and off white tops are just begging for some fruit jam or coffee droplets to litter the fine fabric.

So instead of bee-lining directly for the insanely comfy looking oversized white cashmere sweater, I change course. Instead, I reach for the black, basic button up tunic that feels like they spun it from the very clouds in the heavens. Artemis smirks to himself as he watches me with calculating eyes. He takes in everything as if I were some documentary he is watching, intending to be quizzed after it’s done. 

Tatum Rhodes in the wild: from cotton to silk with the wave of a hand. I chuckle to myself, thinking of what my fake documentary title would be before shaking my head. This all feels absurd and unreal, it’s not even 7am. Yet here I am in fine silks and fabrics with the man who literally rules the land.

I suppose absurd would be me still pining for my fated mate, who broke me when I have this specimen trying to woo me. Not that I’m not over him, I totally am. It’s been five years. I’d have to be utterly obsessed to have not eventually moved on, right? And moved on I have. 

“You can get more than one.” Artemis’ voice makes me jump when I realize he is standing next to me.

“You don’t have to buy my favor.” I tease him with a gentle nudge of my elbow and he bites back a dopey grin. “I like you just as well in my regular cotton or poly span.” 

“Yes, you keep saying that, but I’m not convinced that once I have you in fine garbs, you will forever want to remain in them.” He holds a midnight blue dress up for me and I reach out, my fingers running across the smooth pleats. Everything is SO soft. So damn soft.

“You may be on to something.” I joke as his phone dings and he frowns, looking down at it.

His eyes find mine, a soft apology as he holds up a finger and steps away, leaving me to search on my own again. I grab a few items, finding my way to the dressing room. I tug on a few outfits, waiting for Artemis to come back, and I realize he may be totally right — I am a sucker for comfy clothes. But comfy stylish clothes? Who knew they even existed?

After a while, I take my meager four items and exit to see the boutique worker waiting for me with a soft smile. 

“He had to step outside, but I can bag those for you.”

“Oh, thanks,” I mutter shyly, as she makes quick work of the clothes and hands them back in a tight, neat little bag. After a few moments, I venture outside to find Artemis chatting on the phone, looking vexed until he finds me and offers me a gentle smile.

He motions me to walk alongside him as he chats politely to the person on the other end while rolling his eyes at me in annoyance. I can’t help but smirk as he takes my empty hand in his, entwining our fingers as he leads me back to my apartment. 

It’s not until we make it to my door that I realize he won’t be coming in and that our short first date has ended. I’m genuinely disappointed to be going separate ways. Maybe moving into his mansion won’t be a bad idea if I’m already upset about not being able to spend more time with him. 

“I have to run,” he sighs, hanging up his phone and stuffing it in his pocket. He leans in for a tentative hug and I close the distance between us, pressing my body against his hard plane and he sighs in contentment. “But I will be back at my place soon, so make yourself at home.” He pulls away, giving me a stern look. “I know this is all unorthodox but…”

“Love differs from the mate bond,” I say with the tilt of my head reciting what he told me when we first started talking via the app. “It’s opening yourself up to be more vulnerable to something that can hurt just as much as it can be great,”

“Exactly…and I think we can be great…” he mutters, a blush on his cheek and one growing on mine. 

“I think we might be…Bye Artemis,” I grin and he gives me a heart-stopping smile. 

“Oh!” He looks startled. “I have a warrior waiting for you inside. He will escort you to my manor.”

“Two men in my apartment in one day, lucky me,” I tease, and he shakes his head and chuckles as he walks away. I squeeze my eyes shut in embarrassment before I spin and unlock the door.

I push the door open to my apartment with a huge goofy grin on my face, only to find River standing in the kitchen, arms crossed and cheeks pink with anger. 

“What?” I ask, alarmed, and she points to a looming figure leaning against my kitchen counter.

All of me tenses up, my eyes consuming the man before me. All handsome, six feet three inches of him. His skin is tanner than I remember, his eyes harder, with a glint of green mirth. I swallow hard, trying not to ogle the boy who once held me, captivated with a simple smirk.

The same one I want to hate, no. I do hate. My big brother’s best friend. The one who, until right now, was as good as dead. But here he is grinning his perfectly crooked smile, his manner at ease as he stares down at me. 

“Hey Tater tot, it’s been a while.” He says coolly. Like he hasn’t just blazed into my world and set it on fire all over again.