Page 19 of Howl for Me (Moonlight Magic Studios #1)

Chapter Seventeen

Johnny

Cleaning. I’m cleaning and organizing...

Never thought I’d hit that point in my life where alphabetizing records felt like a form of therapy, but here I am, crouched in front of my shelf, sliding Zeppelin behind Zappa like my sanity depends on it.

Everything’s neat now. Rows of vinyl lined up like soldiers.

I even dusted. Twice. Which is probably a cry for help.

I get up, stretch, and make my way to the kitchen.

The fridge smells like something crawled in and died two months ago.

I open it anyway, nose wrinkling, and start pulling things out one by one.

Old takeout boxes with fossilized noodles.

A bottle of ketchup that looks like it predates Nixon.

Half a lemon that’s more mold than fruit.

Toss, toss, toss.

As I’m scrubbing down the shelves, I start making a mental note to ask Cass what she likes to eat so I can stock up. Behaving… isn’t exactly fun. Especially when she’s not here to distract me. What does one even do when they’re trying to behave?

I wander back to the living room and flick on the TV. Some talk show blares at me.. A guy with too many teeth smiling at a crowd that laughs way too easily. My eyes land on the ornate little wooden box on the coffee table. That familiar itch creeps up.

Cass said no coke, didn’t say I couldn’t get stoned. I lean forward and pop the lid. Empty. Not even a tiny nug.

“Shit,” I mutter, rubbing a hand over my face. I reach for the little address book tucked beside the phone. Flip through until I find Reggie. There’s a number scribbled beside a peace sign. I dial and it rings and rings.

Then a slow, groggy voice answers. “Hello?”

“Teddy, that you?”

“Yeah, man… who’s this?”

“It’s Johnny. I was wondering if you guys could supply me with some herbal refreshments.”

A pause. Then laughter. “Oh, Johnny. Hey, man. How’s it going?”

“Bored outta my fucking mind. Like… I want to jump out of my own skin.”

Teddy chuckles. “Aw, man. Just chill. We got some stuff for you. You want the usual?”

The usual. Coke. Cassidy’s voice flickers through my head, stern and serious. I promised. I stare at the wall. The itch crawls under my skin like ants. I could just stay home. Keep it quiet. But…

“No, man,” I finally say. “Just some bud.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “I’m sure.”

“All right. Give us like thirty minutes.”

I hang up and wait. It takes two hours. By the time they knock, I’ve built an entire model car I found shoved in the back of my closet. It's a ‘68 Chevelle, and I even used tweezers for the tiny-ass decals. That’s how far gone I am.

When I open the door, Reggie’s holding a bag and grinning

“Finally,” I say, stepping aside to let them in. “I was about five minutes away from rearranging my sock drawer. Come in,”

They step inside like they’re entering holy ground, eyes scanning the living room. “Nice house, man,” Reggie says, whistling low as he looks around. “Didn’t know you had it like this.”

I shrug, slouching back onto the couch. “Thanks. Have a seat.”

Reggie and Teddy flop down on either side of me, settling in. Reggie hands me a little plastic bag full of bud and I hand him the cash.

“Well, if you need anything else, you know, just give us a call,” Reggie says, already half-standing.

I don’t know why I say it. Maybe because I’m pathetic and lonely. Maybe because I actually like these two. “I’ve got a bong. You guys wanna stay a bit?”

They exchange that slow, stoner smile. “Shit, yeah.”

We light up and zone out, the familiar sounds of Scooby Doo buzzing in the background. I can feel the tension unspool from my chest, slow and lazy, like syrup.

Eventually, Reggie turns to me, eyes a little pink. “So what had you all wigging out earlier? Usually, you’re on the go. Partying. Girls. Blowing cash.”

I sigh, letting my head fall back against the couch. “I agreed to behave.”

Teddy laughs. “Oh man, Hector’s busting your balls again?”

“Him and Cass,” I mutter, dragging the last hit off the bong before setting it down on the coffee table.

“Cassidy,” Reggie grins. “Man, that’s one cool chick. Real down-to-earth. I like her.”

I glance over at him. “Yeah… forgot you’re the reason she works with us now.”

Reggie grins wider. “Yup. Don’t let her fool you, either. She can get wild, bro. We met at a party. She was with Lori, and we got her high for the first time. Next thing you know, she’s dancing like a maniac and laughing so hard she snorted. Shit was hilarious.”

I feel that brief flicker of warmth in my chest again. Pride, maybe. I’ve heard that little snort, too.

“Yeah… she’s really something.”

Teddy lets out a low whistle, all stoner-slow. “Ohhh shit. I saw that look. You got it bad for her, don’t you?”

I scoff. “What? No. She’s basically my babysitter, thanks to Hector.”

He raises a brow. “Yeah, I wanted to bone my babysitter too.”

I chuckle despite myself. “I don’t want to bone her. It’s professional.”

“Sure, man. Whatever you say,” Reggie throws in, voice lazy and teasing.

I look down, picking at a stray thread on my jeans. “She’s sweet, though. I like her.”

Reggie nods, more serious now. “Well, if you like her, why don’t you date her? She’s a good catch, man. Could be real good for you.”

“I don’t date,” I say, automatic, like muscle memory. “I don’t get attached. Never have. You guys know this.”

Reggie shrugs. “People change.”

“I can’t change,” I say, sharper than I meant to. “I’d ruin her. She deserves better than me.”

Teddy leans back, blowing out smoke. “Then why are you here at home, watching cartoons with us. Seems to me she’s got you tamed. That’s not something you do for someone you don’t got it bad for.”

I crack a smile. A slow, helpless, fuck-you smile. “Touché.”

Reggie leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s alright, man. Everyone settles down eventually. Especially when they find the right one. I wish we could find that.”

I stare at the TV but don’t see it. The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.

“That’s the thing, man. The minute I saw her, I realized she’s my fucking mate.”

Silence.

Then Reggie’s eyes go wide. “Like… mate mate? Like that werewolf, soul-bound, cosmic kind of love?”

I nod slowly, jaw tight. “Yeah. Like that.”

Reggie lets out another low whistle and claps me hard on the back. “Damn. Congratulations, man.”

I flinch. “Don’t congratulate me. It’s not good. It’s a curse. I’ll destroy her.”

Reggie looks at me, all calm stoner wisdom. “Fate doesn’t lie, man. Let it do its thing. Enjoy the ride. She’s good for you. Don’t be a pussy.”

I stare at the swirling smoke overhead, trying to imagine what it’d be like to stop running for once. To let someone in. To stop pretending I don’t already belong to her in every way that counts.

I smile, because I’m too high not to.

And because maybe… maybe they’re right.