“Ugh.”
His shifter animal itched under his skin, reacting to his frustration.
“Colin?” he called again. Unlike him, his roommate wasn’t a type-S and didn’t shift. He tended to get a little uneasy when Harper was in his animal form.
Once he was sure Colin wasn’t home, he sent him a warning text and stuck a note on the front door. Then he turned up the heating, piece of crap that it was, and shed his clothes.
He caught sight of himself in the mirror and spent a moment just looking his body over. At barely twenty-five, he was still young and fit. But he felt older; chewed up and spit out. That wasn’t supposed to be how things were.
Turning away from the mirror, he stretched, feeling the ripple of muscles under his skin as he welcomed the rise of his wolf. Well, wolf was pushing it. He was small enough that he had been mistaken for a dog before. Sometimes, just for fun, he liked to go out and wander the streets. It had gotten awkward a few times when he’d come close to being picked up by animal control or taken home by some well-meaning stranger.
Folding gracefully to his knees, he leaned forward onto his hands and gave his wolf the freedom that it craved. For a few minutes, he just stood there on all four paws, giving himself a chance to acclimatize. But he couldn’t stay still for long. He wriggled his body, all that nervous energy needing an escape. Giving in to his inner child, he bounded into motion and raced around the apartment. It wasn’t as good as being outside, but it was still freedom of a sort.
At times, he wished he could find an alpha who took the same joy as he did in shifting. Of course, that was a lottery he was unlikely to win. So few were type-S’s to begin with, and of those who were, most of their shifter animals were long dormant. Shifting was seen as something children did, a sign of immaturity. Or so his last boyfriend had made clear when he broke up with him.
Finally tired out, he stretched out on his bedspread for a while and fell into a light doze. He must have shifted back in his sleep; he woke freezing cold, shivering bodily as he grabbed a blanket and wrapped it tightly around him. The heating was on the fritz yet again. He sent a text to Colin so he could get his uncle to repair it. Not that he’d care all that much, seeing as he was spending all his time with his boyfriend these days. With a groan, Harper dragged himself to his feet and went looking for clothes. His stomach growled loudly, reminding him that he’d skipped dinner.
He was halfway through some leftovers that were past their best when he looked around. Was this the most he could expect from life? A dead-end job, a rundown apartment, and two-day-old noodles?
Dumping the rest of his food in the trash, he went and found his phone. Though he’d never had a reason to call William, Zac had given him his number during the wedding, just in case. He scrolled through his texts until he found it, and then wrote a quick message. Three words.
I’m in. H-
Chapter Seven
William got Harper’s message and all but punched the air. He considered a reply but decided that the less unofficial contact they had, the better. Instead, he logged into Inspire Inc. and confirmed Harper as his choice. A message appeared in his inbox almost instantly, promising that they’d be in touch as soon as possible. Satisfied, William went to bed, dreaming of better days.
Things moved quickly the next day with Micah calling him to confirm, happy he’d decided to move forward.
“He’s a great fit for you, William. He’s been sent your profile to approve. Once that happens, we’ll arrange a first meeting and start working out a schedule for you both.”
“Sounds great. How soon…”
Micah laughed softly. “Eager, aren’t you? As soon as it can be arranged, I promise.”
William tried to be patient as the day wore on, knowing it would probably take longer than a few hours to move onto the next step. He forced his attention onto his work for the day, happy to find his focus good despite the distraction. Just as he was headed home, he got a notification on his phone. It was to arrange the first meeting between him and his muse, to take place at Inspire Inc.’s headquarters. It gave three possible times, presumably when Harper was available. One was Saturday afternoon, another Friday evening. But one of them was that evening, at eight p.m. He checked his watch. Six-thirty. He had time. Eagerly, he pressed that option. A few minutes later, he got the confirmation. Everything was coming together.
He had just enough time to get home, clean up, change, grab a quick bite to eat, and head back out. Despite knowing this was a sure thing, he still felt nervous as he stepped through the door into the building.
“Mr. Riley?”
A smiling woman met him just inside the entrance.
“Uh, that’s right.”
“Excellent. You’re right on time, and your future muse is already here. If you’d like to follow me…”
She led him down a corridor and into… a bar?
“We like to give as authentic a feel to this as possible. Our clients find an office-like environment too clinical, but most feel more comfortable with a drink in their hands. Alcohol-free, I’m afraid. Can’t have people signing contracts when they’re tipsy now, can we?”
Her cheery manner was a little off-putting, but he nodded, nonetheless. “No, I guess you can’t.”
The room was dimly lit, the seating arranged in closed, numbered booths that were screened off from one another. It meant that a glance around revealed none of the other occupants beyond vague figures and the murmur of voices. There appeared to be quite a few couples there. More than he’d expected for a midweek evening.
“Some of our clients prefer to meet their muses here instead of out in public. It can prevent awkward questions. We have several social settings available. Now, you’re meeting Mr. Jones. He’s in booth seven, near the window. If you need anything, use the green button on the screens to call for one of our staff.”
He thanked her, and then headed toward the window and booth seven. When he stopped just outside, he found Harper watching him with apprehension. William didn’t blame him. This was more subterfuge than he’d ever attempted before, and he wondered if it would somehow be obvious to those watching that they knew each other.
“Hello,” he said awkwardly, hovering next to Harper’s booth.
“Hi.” Harper stood and held out a hand. “Harper Jones.”
William took his hand, holding it for a moment in lieu of shaking it. “William Riley. It’s good to meet you in person, finally.”
Harper bit his lip and let go of William’s hand, sliding back into his seat. “Likewise. Why don’t you sit and get a drink? Then, I guess we should follow the itinerary?”
William sat down, unsure what Harper was talking about until he saw the screens built into the table, like little tablet computers. His and Harper’s names were on the top of the screen, and there was a short list of checkboxes, the first being greetings, the second being drinks.
William ticked off the first, then looked down the list of drinks offered. He checked to see what Harper was having before he made his choice, glancing around to figure out if he needed to go get it. But a few moments later, a waiter moved their way with William’s glass of sparkling grape juice perfectly balanced on his tray.