8
A good egg
Marcus offered me a ride today, so you don't need to come get me.
Sweet. Tell Marcus I said thanks.
C oyote Bills on Fire Night is always a rollercoaster. There are the tedious opening hours, a trickle of patrons before the happy hour rush, and fire hour. The boys have become regulars on the nights I work, Dante even more so than Jay or Saint.
Tonight, I decide to corner Ivy and ask her what she and the Magpie are up to. It's not like I can't guess, but I want to hear it from my friend.
I stroll into a relatively empty bar, dressed in my favorite jeans—the black ones with a rip right under the ass-cheek—and a tight-knit tank, with my feet tucked into boots. Perfect.
Sam is already here, dressed in leather pants and a cropped tee behind the bar, drying glassware.
As I clock in, I say, "I'm going to look for Ivy. I'll be right back, okay?"
"Yeah, sure," Sam shrugs, leaning against the back cooler on one hip, bobbing her head to the music streaming through jukebox speakers. "Bronco arrives today, so you don't have to come to get me anymore."
"Aw. I liked our trips together," I pout, but truth be told, having to account for enough time for both of us was getting tiresome.
"I know, we'll have to bring girls' night back."
"Deal." I immediately agree, pointing at her as I walk away to find the boss lady.
Finding Ivy takes barely any time at all. She's in her office, by the looks of it, scribbling a draft of next month's schedules on a paper copy of the calendar. Normally, our schedules are distributed in a shared electronic calendar for the bar… I hadn't realized that she did it by hand first.
"Hey!" I say with a cheesy grin plastered on my face.
" Hey," Ivy greets, a knowing smile on her lips.
"So, I've been wondering," I begin, perching on the spare chair in the corner of her tiny office.
"You've been wondering," Ivy agrees, propping her chin on her hand, elbow planted on her desk.
"Whatcha' been up to with a Mr Dante Kincayde?" I finish, an innocent grin still plastered across my face.
Ivy's cheeks immediately flush, jaw flapping open for one second before she regains control of her face. "We're just friends."
"Sure, friends who bang at every opportunity." I agree without missing a beat.
"I-how- what -no, that's not." Ivy stumbles over her words, a flush spreading from her cheeks, down her neck, and even a little on her forehead. Then, she sighs and says, "How did you figure it out?"
"Well, for one, neither of you are particularly subtle, but the Magpie tells Jay where he's going almost always." I shrug, still grinning at her. "So, is that all you want?"
Ivy shrugs in return, saying, "I don't know. I'm having fun. It's enough for now."
"For now," I repeat, eyebrow raised.
When Ivy's eyebrows lower, I know she's about to cut me off and say that I'm wrong or looking into it too hard or something else equally untrue, so I say, "Oh, I'm just teasing. Dante's a good egg. I think he likes you since he's barely around anymore."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. Since we moved into the Cabin, he's been notably absent. It's like every time I turn around, he's just gone, but I'll look at Jay, and he'll smirk and say, 'Ivy,' and that's it." I shrug again, grappling with words. "I think you two would be a good match, regardless of the species differences."
Ivy looks like she's going to say something for a whole minute before sighing and saying, "Well, we're just friends, and that's not changing anytime soon."
"Even with your extracurricular tangos of the horizontal nature? Is it horizontal? Vertical? Diagonal?"
"Even with that." She agrees, smirking.
"Does he take you out on his bike?"
"Mhm."
"I bet that's hot."
Ivy grins, a more wolfish smile than a Bear should be capable of. "You have no idea."
I laugh, but then she says, "Hey, while you're here," fishing around her desk for … something.
"Yes, I am here," I answer lamely, wondering what she's up to.
Finally, her hand reappears with a small key ring, four brass keys dangling from it. "These are yours."
"No, I don't think so," I reply, taking the keys from her to examine them more closely.
Ivy snorts, then says, "They are. They are for the bar." She finishes softly, giving me a small smile.
My jaw drops, and unexpected tears spring to my eyes. " Oh. "
"I trust you. More than I trust most people. I know if I need you, you'll be there. And I know you love this place just as much as me. So, how about maybe managing?"
"Ivy, I.. don't know what to say."
"Say yes. It's no big deal; you handle the bar like you manage it. Take the title already, for fucks sake," Ivy jibes, a warm smile spreading across her face.
Laughing, I kneel before her, place my hand on my chest, and say in the deepest, knightly voice I can muster, "It would be my honor."
Ivy bursts out laughing, making me lose control of my own giggles.
Sam has no trouble picking up the dance moves, which doesn't surprise me. She's a natural here. I know that her little marketing brain is already brewing new ways to bring in the clientele of Coyote Bills. She and I are framed by Ivy and Angel, and the choreography of Fire Night guides our bodies in sync on top of the flaming bar.
George, as always, is behind the bar, handing out bottles between our legs, a bucket of water to toss on unruly patrons if needed, and an extinguisher at the ready. Cook had recently pointed out to him, very loudly , that using water to douse an alcohol fire was asking for a disaster. There is also a new fire blanket tucked behind the bar.
Laying my head back on Sam's shoulder, I sway my hips, gripping Ivy's hips to keep us in sync, just like Sam grips mine, Angel hers.
Having Sam here, with my pack, just feels right. She fits in with the boys, with Ivy, and, of course, Aggie loves her. It's been a long time since Timber Hollow truly felt like home, but since being back, that's changed. And now, with Sam here, it's like everything is coming together for me.
Artemis Leto Hunt finally has her life together; who would have thought?
The boys hover around the end of the bar, where the Slap Shot booth will reopen after the routine and the bar is cleaned. With half-lidded eyes, I watch Jay as I do the routine. I should be careful, but even I can't help the way my eye wanders to Saint every now and again, like when he throws an arm still golden with his summer tan over my boyfriend's shoulder, grips him by the back of the head and says something that makes the both of them laugh.
And then, I'm just imagining being between Jay and Saint like I'm between Sam and Ivy right now. And maybe, just maybe, my hips sway a little more sauce, shoulders shimming with just a hint more seduction.
A girl can have her fantasies, right. Right?
A wolf certainly can. My wolf surfaces, her golden eyes watching. Always watching lately. Watching and waiting.
When the routine finishes, Sam and I hop off the bar at the end. Ivy, Angel, and George begin wiping down the far end while Sam and I clean the other side. We make quick work of it, sending George off to bus tables while Ivy and Angel start mixing drinks.
"So, what did you want to ask Ivy about earlier?" Sam asks as she's stacking shot glasses for us to use.
"Oh, I was just snooping for gossip, but she made me manager while I was in there," I say, smiling.
"Oh, fuck yeah! Good for you, girl." Sam congratulates me and gives me a quick hug.
I laugh, saying, "Thank you. Are you ready?"
In response, Sam flicks the switch to the light over the Slap Shot booth, and immediately, a line forms. Jay and Saint aren't the first in line; there are around a half dozen customers between now and when I get to smack around my boyfriend and his hot friend.
Those half dozen customers all go in a blur, and then Angel saunters over with a cheeky smile.
"What's up?" I greet, wiping up the previous customer's spittle spray with a disinfectant-soaked rag, running a dry one over the bar immediately after.
"I was wondering If I could do one?" Angel asks, and I shrug.
"Sure," I answer as Jay, Saint, and Dante walk up. Normally, I would do Jay and Saint's simultaneously, and Sam would do Dante if he was still around, like tonight. I don't know why I expect Saint to walk up to Sam's side of the bar, but I do, but he doesn't.
Angel is going to do Saint's Slap shot.
I refuse to acknowledge the burning in my gut, plastering on a smile as I pour Jay's usual order, two Anejo, and a kiss while Sam pours Dante's usual Johnnie Walker.
"How are you tonight, Gorgeous?" Jay asks, planting his elbow on the bar, chin in palm, as he watches me pour his tequila.
"I'm doing great now that you're here, Handsome," I reply, ignoring Angel asking Saint for his order with a giggle, twirling her blonde hair around her manicured finger.
My wolf paces, and I feel her teeth in my jaw, her claws under my fingertips. The want to hunt, rip into muscle, and sinew surges. Fuck.
Jay's eyes are as mercurial as ever; one eye is bluer, while the other is greener today. Both have that silvery flash of his wolf when he smirks, though.
Before I slap him, I lean over and drop a quick kiss to the side of his mouth. He's ready for it, braced for impact and shooting down his liquor immediately after I slap his cheek. Sam's echoing slap sounds next, and then the pitiful crack of Angel's palm against Saint's cheek comes last, with a giggle. Without thinking, I roll my eyes and Jay just smirks at me.
"Have a nice night, Handsome," I say sweetly when he sets his shot glass down.
"Only because you said so, Gorgeous." Jay fires back, taking Saint and Dante with him.
Angel disappears down the bar to mix drinks without a word, and the look on Sam's face makes me want to disown her.
"Don't say a word," I warn, wiping my hands off on a rag.
Sam snorts before saying, "Wouldn't dream of it."
As I climb the stairs after switching keg lines, I overhear Angel and Ivy talking, Sam's voice chiming in with a 'there there' now and again. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I can't do anything but go find out what's happening. A few minutes ago, everything was fine while we were all closing.
Everyone is gathered around Angel, sitting at the bar sobbing into her hands.
"I just don't get it!" Angel wails, yet another hiccuping sob coming from her moments later.
"Men are dumb," Sam offers; I snort, and Ivy murmurs, "Yes, they are," while rubbing Angel's back in soothing circles.
Sam and I exchange a couple of looks. Mine says, "What the fuck?" hers says, "I don't know either?"
Ivy rolls her eyes.
"I have never had a man just ignore me like Saint does! It's so frustrating! " Angel whines, and then it all clicks.
"Maybe he's just oblivious." Sam offers again, her voice sounding hopeful for Angel.
"I'm practically throwing myself at him; he can't be that oblivious!" Angel hisses, staring daggers at Sam. She raises her hands in an attempt to placate Angel.
" Okay, okay," Sam says, looking over at me like I can do anything to help. And then everyone is looking at me.
"What do you think, Artemis?" Angel pleads, her big, blue, teary eyes widened comically.
"About what?" I ask, startled that she'd even want my opinion. Angel and I aren't close, we're friendly, but I don't think I've even told her my birthday.
"Saint. Do you think he likes me?" She reasserts, sitting up straighter.
"Umm…" I pause, unsure what to say, glancing at Sam and Ivy for help.
"Come on, you have to know something," Angel urges, reaching out to grab my hand and dragging me a step closer.
"Saint is nice, but I have no idea what goes on inside his head," I say slowly, wincing. Probably, he's just not pursuing her because she's human. Angel is pretty, and Saint is a flirt, so I don't see any other reason why he'd ignore her. That's also a fact I'm sure Sam and Ivy are aware of.
Dating humans is just… complex. Secrets pile up alarmingly fast because you can't tell them, well, anything.
I would know.
Angel throws my hand away from her with a curled lip, saying, "Ugh, thanks for nothing."
"Wow, okay. Sorry, I couldn't help." I reply, rolling my eyes and walking away from the three of them. I barely break stride as I grab my hoodie and keys, and then I'm out of the doors moments later.
Bitch. The silent words of my wolf nearly make me laugh out loud. Sam and Ivy stay with Angel, murmuring words of encouragement to the blonde.
I still have to take Sam home, though, so I sit in the Stingray while waiting for her to come through the double doors. It only takes her a few minutes to emerge, her suede cow print saddle bag thrown over her shoulder.