Rowan stepped out of the pizza place with a pie to go for his troubles of delivering four dozen plastic roses to the manager. It was another job for his boss, and this time he couldn’t even begin to guess what the roses would be used for. He didn’t really care. It was over and done, and he hadn’t been caught this time.

But man, what a godawful chewing-out he’d been given when he went back to work and told his boss what had happened. The guy could be pretty jovial most of the time, a regular Santa Claus-type, but when he was angry he certainly lived up to his last name of Storm. He turned into a cyclone, throwing things this way and that, his voice rising to unnatural levels. It was terrifying, but also like cyclones in Virginia, it was rare enough that you forgot about them when one wasn’t imminent.

He survived the reprimands thrown his way by Mr. Storm and after that, the boss had gone back to being his cheerful self. He let Rowan carry out his regular shift without any trouble and then offered him another side job.

“Not even you could fuck this one up,” Mr. Storm had said. His eyes were narrow and beady, rat-like in his thin face.

Rowan let it go and accepted the roses. He piled them all up on the back of his motorcycle and took them home overnight, since he was meant to deliver them in person and the pizza place was closed at that time. The next morning, he hopped on his bike and came here.

He had to admit, traveling by bike was so much better than going on foot. Unfortunately, that was exactly what he’d been instructed to do for the delivery that took him past Abingdon and that weird well. Mr. Storm said so. Rowan didn’t know why but he didn’t question it. When the boss wanted something, the boss got something.

It would definitely be accurate to say that he was a little afraid of the man. With a person like that, they didn’t know what they were capable of doing. Rowan didn’t think that Mr. Storm was the sort who would attack someone, preferring to display his fury instead of actually acting upon it, but he didn’t know that for certain. He just didn’t know. However, he was willing to give the man the benefit of the doubt because he had yet to see anything really bad.

It was stupid logic, and he should have known that something like this would eventually get bad, but in the meantime he was content. Life was good. Nothing was outwardly wrong. If Mr. Storm wanted to cater to adults who were willing to break the law to get their needles or whatever else, it was none of Rowan’s business. They were adults, after all.

I’m an adult too, and I’m probably not making the best decisions.

That was beside the point. The point was that he had a pizza, which meant he had lunch and dinner. It was only a pie from Little Caesars but Rowan had never discriminated against free food before, and he wasn’t about to start now.

Heading up to his motorcycle, he placed the pizza in the basket that he’d hooked up to the seat behind him. Other bikers tended to laugh at him and call him a little girl and ask him to honk his horn for them, but he’d seen plenty of them try to carry something on their bike, only to end up dropping it. Clearly, his little girly basket wasn’t so stupid.

He was about to hop on up and get out of there when something caught his attention. He didn’t know what it was. Maybe something in his peripheral vision, maybe a bit of information tossed his way by the wolf soul inside him. Either way, he took a second look over his shoulder.

The parking lot was very wide and spacious for such a dumpy place, but there weren’t that many cars about. Most of them were in the spots up front by the door, since no one wanted to walk an extra 20 feet these days. However, there was one car sitting alone in the line of parking spots that faced out towards the street.

A red Ford Fusion, a pretty car with some serious style. A car like that almost made a motorcycle look like a tricycle. However, the driver had parked their nice, expensive car at such an angle that it was not only in one spot, or two, but three.

Someone’s entitled, Rowan thought, not without a little amusement. It was a miracle that no one had come up and keyed the car or done something else to express their displeasure at such nerve.

Then he saw the silhouette of the driver in the front seat, behind the dark-tinted window. There wasn’t anything odd about a person sitting in their car. Maybe he was waiting on someone or checking his phone, or making sure he had his money in order before going inside. There were any number of plausible reasons for this, and Rowan didn’t know why his attention had been grabbed so thoroughly by something so utterly ordinary.

Then, a few seconds later, he got his answer.

The driver wasn’t moving. They weren’t messing with their phone or adjusting the radio or anything at all. They were just slumped forward with their head down, motionless. They were so utterly limp that they could only have been held upright by their seatbelt.

“Oh, fuck,” Rowan muttered under his breath. Abandoning his pizza, he hurried over to the Fusion. All the ordinary reasons for this had been shoved out of his mind, to be replaced by ones that were much more frightening. This person looked dead. What if they were? Or what if something had happened to knock them unconscious, like a seizure or heart attack? He sure as hell couldn’t just walk away while there was the possibility of any of those. He was a wolf, not a monster.

Reaching the car, he rapped on the window with his knuckles. No response. Becoming alarmed now, Rowan barked, “Hey!” and smacked his fist on the glass. The resulting thump of contact was very loud and very painful, but the person inside the vehicle let out a little cry of alarm and jerked upright.

Oh, shit. No way.

Though the driver’s features were mostly obscured by the dark glass, there was no mistaking the identity of this silhouette now that he was only a foot away. Curly hair, refined features.

It was Derrick.

Derrick looked around wildly, grabbing at the steering wheel. His fingers flexed on the wheel, opening and closing as he looked around with alarm and confusion. His lips were moving but Rowan couldn’t hear anything, which led him to believe that Derrick was probably talking to himself.

Then, the omega swung his head around to glare through the window. His eyes were narrowed and incredibly suspicious, and also incredibly tired. Rowan didn’t know how he knew that, but he did. It was something more felt than seen. It explained the terrible parking job and why Derrick had been all slumped over. He’d been sleeping, which meant that up until now he probably hadn’t slept.

Derrick fumbled with the keys in the ignition and turned the car on so he could roll the window down. He glared up at Rowan, but the glare was massively diminished by the fact that his eyelids were heavy and almost transparent, shot through with broken, aggravated veins. “What?” he snapped. His voice was roughened by sleep, with that blurry edge that everyone has experienced at one time or another.

Rowan leaned down a little bit so that they could talk better, and was a bit irritated when Derrick subsequently leaned away from him. He didn’t comment on it, however. “I just wanted to check on you. You looked pretty much dead or hurt, all slumped like that. I didn’t even know it was you, so don’t give me any lip about stalking.”

Surprise softened Derrick’s features, smoothing away some of the anger. “What were you doing here?”

Rowan moved slightly to the side and pointed in the direction of his motorcycle, with the pizza still jammed in the basket. “Getting some lunch,” he said, mostly truthfully.

“Cute basket.”

It was the same comment that had frustrated him on so many other occasions, but Rowan found himself smiling this time. It was a little smile and it felt strange on his mouth, but he decided that it also felt pretty good. “Thanks.”

“Wouldn’t think a guy like you would have a pretty basket on their motorcycle.” Derrick sounded more and more awake all the time, which was a good thing as far as Rowan was concerned. He really had been concerned. He was glad nothing was wrong, especially when it came to this man in particular.

“I’m comfortable in my masculinity.” Rowan shrugged. “Looking cool won’t help my hunger when I drop my pizza in the middle of the road.”

Derrick laughed softly. It had a sleepy, sexy quality to it that sent soft thrills through Rowan’s stomach. “I guess that’s a good enough reason. Anyway, you really were concerned about me?”

“I didn’t know it was you, but yeah. You weren’t moving. Having a good nap?”

“I must have been, because I feel terrible right now. Isn’t it stupid how that works?” Derrick shook his head. “Sorry. I’m rambling. I’m still pretty tired.”

“Then, you probably shouldn’t drive. I don’t think this is exactly a great place to be taking a nap. The manager will probably notice sooner or later, and then they’ll force you out.” The idea of Derrick being forced to drive again when he was still clearly exhausted just didn’t sit right with Rowan. The well might have shown him this omega, making him a little biased, but he didn’t think it was out of the realm of plausibility to be worried. This could be anyone, and he would still be worried that they’d fall asleep on the road and get themselves killed. He couldn’t let that happen.

Okay, and he especially couldn’t let that happen to this person in particular.

“I guess I’ll clear out, then.” Derrick shrugged and sighed, then rubbed his eyes with his hand. “Thanks for checking on me, Mr. Criminal. But I think we should both get going.”

“Right,” Rowan agreed. “So just let me get my pizza. Hop on over to the passenger side, won’t you?”

Confusion flashed across Derrick’s features, making him narrow his eyes. Then, those eyes widened with surprise and he started shaking his head. “What? You want to drive my car? Hell, no!”

“I want to drive you home,” Rowan said. “I’ll make sure you get there safely.”

“What about your motorcycle?”

Rowan glanced over his shoulder again at his ride. In all honesty, it was a piece of shit. He kept it looking nice, all polished and gleaming, but it had been an old piece of junk back when he’d bought it on resale out in front of a shitty pawn shop. He had to replace most of the important parts, and the replacement pieces hadn’t exactly been fantastic quality, either. It was more just to have a project to work on, a labor of love.

Unless someone was desperate, they wouldn’t try to steal it.

He turned back to Derrick and spoke firmly. “It’ll be fine. I know the manager. I just want to make sure you get home safe.”

“But you’d have to come back and get it. I can’t inconvenience you like that.”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Sure you can. A little walking won’t hurt me. You know that. We were made for it.”

Derrick hesitated, his gorgeous features creased with concentration as he tried to think through the fog of sleep clouding his brain; it was easy for Rowan to see that he’d already won this conversation. The stoic, melancholy omega was currently lacking his usual poise and all of his emotions were showing through.

“Well…” Derrick hesitated some more, and then a huge yawn nearly cracked his jaw in half. He tried to cover it with his hand but he couldn’t do anything about the sound it made, starting deep and breathy before ending in a lupine whine.

Watching this other wolf fight against his own sleepiness was just about the sweetest thing Rowan had ever seen. Something twisted very pleasantly inside his chest. “Scoot over. I’ll be right back.”

As he jogged back to get his pizza, he realized Derrick could just drive away right now. Then there would be nothing that Rowan could do except visit him at his funeral. He was always the sort of person who just tried to accept that there were things he couldn’t change, and it was usually easy because he’d had a lot of practice just by being himself. A wolf couldn’t change his own nature, just as much as a human couldn’t become a shifter.

However, he didn’t want to accept this possibility. He didn’t want to accept that Derrick might get hurt or possibly die. He didn’t know what he would do if that happened, even if he didn’t really understand why the omega already meant so much to him.

Derrick didn’t drive away. He had obediently shifted over to the front passenger seat and was waiting for Rowan to return.

Rowan opened the door and slid himself inside, then handed the pizza over to Derrick. “Hold onto this, would you?”

Derrick accepted the grease-spotted box. A brief emotion flickered across his face, one that Rowan knew well. He tried not to smile while finding the key in the ignition, twisting it in his fingers. “You can have a slice if you want.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Derrick trying to look guilty but that didn’t stop him from accepting the offer.

“So, where am I headed?” Rowan asked. He adjusted the rearview mirror and the seat position.

“Do you know where the Bright Heights Apartment Complex is?”

Rowan wouldn’t have, except for the fact that he’d had a delivery there about a month ago. “I think I remember the way. You can take a nap, if you like. It’ll be a few minutes. You’re a long way from home.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’m not going to sleep while you drive my car, no matter how tired I am.”

Mentally mapping out his route, Rowan backed out of the three parking spots and then pulled around to the exit. After a long stream of traffic went by, a girl in a white Driver’s Education vehicle stopped to let him out. He lifted a hand to her and pulled out, then shifted over to the middle lane. They had quite a ways to go before they would need to turn.

He expected Derrick would be mostly quiet throughout the drive, but that wasn’t going to be the case. The omega cleared his throat after only about a minute of driving, as if he was trying to get up the courage to say something.

Rowan waited patiently, and it was when they were stopped at the next red light that a conversation began.

“So, uh, how did things go with you, with the cops? Are you off the hook, Mr. Criminal? You must be, if you’ve carjacked me. Or did you escape?”

Rowan snorted. “You might have wanted to think about that before you just let me jump in your fancy car.”

Derrick ran one hand sheepishly through his hair, golden curls wrapping around his fingers. “Give me a break, I’m tired. But really, you should answer my question. Put my mind at ease. I don’t know why I trust you to tell the truth or to take me home, but I do.”

The red light turned green and Rowan started driving again. He kept his eyes on the road and his mind in the present, but there were thoughts churning deep inside him that had nothing to do with what he’d learned in his own Driver’s Ed class. He could tell the truth, or he could lie.

Neither option seemed exactly right for this situation, so he came up with an alternative. His voice was husky when he spoke, almost a growl, and his stomach was tense from the enormity of what he was saying. “Because you feel it, too. Don’t you.”

It wasn’t a question, but he desperately wanted an answer all the same, to slow down his racing thoughts. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest, tight with that tingling emotion that he'd felt before. The silence was overbearingly heavy, full of potential. There was no telling what the next sentence might give birth to, no knowing where they would go from there.

Because something was between them. Rowan was pretty damn sure it had nothing to do with the well, but he was also certain that he might not have taken it so seriously without the vision within the well. Here they were, two men from opposite worlds who shouldn’t have wanted anything to do with the other, and yet there could be no denying that they had gotten along from the very beginning. Their interactions in the holding cell had been light, teasing, a precursor of things to come, a hint at what things might be at a different time.

Rowan knew it. He felt it.

He knew Derrick felt it. But would he admit it, that this tentative connection between them was the reason he was now basically trusting Rowan with his life?

He didn’t, but neither did he deny it. Instead, Derrick said, “I don’t think you’re a bad guy.”

That was hardly a compliment at all, and yet it warmed Rowan’s soul to hear. He might look like a punk, like someone who would rob you blind if you so much as looked at him wrong, but he had never been that kind of guy. Sometimes it was a lonely way to live, constantly avoided like that.

But he would never admit it. Instead, he looked over at Derrick and said, “How did things go for you?”

Derrick knew exactly what he was talking about, it seemed. How could he not? He sighed and placed one hand over his eyes, then leaned his head back against the seat. “They didn’t press charges. I think they might have given me a medal of honor, if they had one on hand.”

Good. Nice to hear about sensible cops for once.

“But I tried to go to school today and they…well, I got suspended. Like some asshole student. I should be glad that it wasn’t worse.”

“Suspended for how long?” Rowan asked.

“A month. I should be lucky I wasn’t fired, but I’ve got no idea how I’m ever going to go back there now that everyone knows what I did.”

Their turn was coming up, followed by another immediately afterwards, so Rowan stayed quiet long enough to concentrate. When it was straight shooting for a little bit, he said, “You could look for a different job. I know you’re a teacher. Have you thought about giving private lessons or something?”

“Word of this is probably going to be all over the place by now. What parent is going to let their kid have a private lesson with the guy whose crowning achievement was punching a stranger?”

“But you had a good reason. A parent might admire your drive to protect their kid.”

Derrick shrugged. “Or they might wonder if that aggression could come out against a kid someday. They’d be right to wonder that. I know I would never hurt a child, or anyone else unless I had a reason to, but they have every right to just not trust my word on that.”

True.

“Not an easy situation, is it?”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

But he very much wanted to know. He did. He really, truly wanted to know as much as possible so that perhaps he could help.

Rowan said softly, “I’m sure you’ll figure something out. You seem smart.”

“You don’t seem half-stupid yourself, Mr. Criminal.” There it was again, that teasing note to Derrick’s voice that was so enchanting. Rowan had the impression that this man was very, very serious most of the time, so these teasing instances were borderline delightful to him.

The rest of their drive mostly passed in silence, but by the end of it, Rowan was pretty sure that he was as in over his head as a person could get. He wanted to know more about Derrick. He didn’t want this to be the last time they saw each other. He wanted more. He wanted to be…friends. More. Less? Everything.

Stupid fucking well.

Stupid alpha hormones.

They reached the Bright Heights Apartments right about when Rowan expected them to. The apartments were actually composed of three buildings set up in a semicircle around an enormous parking lot. Though not very wide, the buildings were certainly tall; it looked like what a country child might conjure up if they were asked to draw what they thought a city looked like.

“I’m in Building 2,” Derrick said. He pointed down one of the rows of parking spots; his hand was steady and didn’t shake, which Rowan considered to be a good sign. That brief nap and the piece of pizza had revitalized the musician, it seemed. “The spots are marked with big numbers. I’m 2AC.”

Rowan found the spot and parked a little crookedly, though he managed to stay in the lines. Turning off the engine, he looked into Derrick’s icy blue eyes and said, “Let’s go. I’ll walk you up.”

“Thanks, but I’m pretty sure I can make it.”

“I’ll go with you,” Rowan repeated. He didn’t know why he was being so adamant about it, but his instincts just demanded he do this. Something felt a little weird to him, a pressure high up between his shoulder blades that nagged at him. He didn’t like it. “Don’t worry, okay? I’m not going to jump you. I just want to make sure you actually get there and don’t break your neck on the stairs.”

Derrick rolled his eyes but then just shrugged. “If you insist,” he said, then held out his hand for the car keys.

Rowan handed them over. Their fingers brushed together just the slightest bit but the resulting lightning bolt that sprang between them was a whole hell of a lot more than just slight. It was enormous and shocking, and Rowan jerked his tingling hand back to shake it out. His heart scampered around in his chest, joyous and confused but unquestioning, and his groin felt very tight. Another part of him also felt tight and he desperately hoped he wasn’t as erect as it felt like he was.

But maybe it wouldn’t have mattered, because Derrick looked just as electrified. His eyes had gone hazy and his lips were slightly parted, as if he’d been about to speak and had forgotten the words.

Never before in his entire life had Rowan felt something so potent, so intense, just from touching another person. In fact, he was sure he hadn’t even felt like that during orgasm.

If they had been able to pretend that there was nothing between them, they sure as hell couldn’t do so now.

They didn’t say anything, just stepped out of the vehicle together. Derrick pushed a button on his key fob to lock the doors, with a honk punctuating the command. Then, he turned and started walking up the long row of cars in the direction of Building 2.

Rowan followed along slightly behind him and off to the side, keeping an eye out for whatever it was that was making him feel so weird. There didn’t seem to be much here to be wary of, since it was just a normal parking lot. Cars, some new, some beaten-down, most of them average. The rows were separated by concrete blocks and then strips of landscaping, mostly bushes showing some wear and tear from the heat of the past summer. A few people milled around, going about their business. No one was paying them any attention, so there was no reason at all why he should have felt so weird.

Derrick didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, but Derrick was also extremely tired. His instincts were dulled. He probably wouldn’t have noticed the end of the world if a nuke landed right in front of him.

The more they walked, the more Rowan couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to happen. He picked up his pace so that he was walking right beside Derrick. His hackles were up and his senses were straining, his head turning this way and that to locate what was starting to feel like an invisible threat.

Then, the threat was invisible no longer. Someone was approaching. Several people, their scent carried to him on the wind. They were excited, filled with the spice of life, hurrying forward as fast as they could. At their lead was a woman with a camera, which made him start to growl deep in his chest. Right behind her was a man with a video camera, and bringing up the rear was an older guy with a clipboard. Papers flapped in the wind as that one hustled along, puffing breathlessly.

“Excuse me! Excuse me!” the woman said. She looked like one of those women who had attempted to mold herself into what society wished her to be, rather than taking herself for what she was. Her face had been wiped clean of features by makeup and then painted back on. Her lips were garishly red, like a smile made of blood, and her eyelids were coated in so much makeup that it was a wonder she was able to open them at all.

Derrick stopped and looked over at the woman, but Rowan placed a hand on his shoulder and tried to push him along. Alarm bells rang in his head but he kept his voice low and soft. “Keep going,” he urged. “Don’t pay any attention to her.”

His hand was tingling from grabbing the other man but he ignored it, and Derrick didn’t seem to be feeling any of that electric attraction this time. The musician was too tired, too confused to make sense of what was going on. He looked towards Rowan, clearly about to ask for some sort of explanation.

Then the woman was there with a flutter of extremely fine, completely ruined hair that had been bleached again and again until it was almost white. “Excuse me,” she said again. “Hi, my name is Harmony and I’m a reporter for the Virginia Pilot. I was wondering if I could get an interview with you about what happened at the school, Mr. Keene?”

Derrick jerked back slightly, reeling from this revelation. Rowan was a little surprised that the official Portsmouth newspaper wanted to get involved with what was really a small matter, but he disliked it immensely. There was no telling what they would do with this story, or what they had already done. They would twist it and cause a controversy that might well cost Derrick his job. That school could only take so much before it decided that it would be best to get rid of him for good, and this certainly seemed like it would be just the thing to push that decision over the edge.

I have to put a stop to this.

Rowan stepped in front of Derrick, hiding the smaller man behind his broad body. He kept his tone clipped and crisp, trying not to let his annoyance show. “No comment, lady.”

“We weren’t asking you,” Harmony said. Her voice rose up in pitch, and her garish lips pursed into a simpering pout. She clearly thought that she could use her appearance to get her way but unfortunately for her, Rowan wasn’t interested in any women at all and never had been. He stood his ground, crossing his arms.

“Would you move? We’re trying to talk to him. Derrick? Derrick Keene! We’d love to get a statement from you!” Harmony held up the camera and started to advance on Derrick, stepping around Rowan. “A picture, maybe? Just one or two? We’ll get your good side!”

Rowan moved so that he was in front of Derrick again. “Back off, lady.” He was aware of the video camera turned in his direction, capturing all of this. He had to be careful. “I’m with him, and I’m speaking for him. No comment. Move on.”

“Are you his bodyguard?”

I am now.

Rowan turned his back on her and placed his hand on Derrick’s back now, guiding him faster towards the doors. A burst of light flashed from behind him and he spun around, a snarl on his lips. “Freedom of the press doesn’t apply here, lady,” he snapped. “We aren’t giving you any fucking statements. We don’t give you permission to use any pictures or videos you’ve taken. Not now, not ever. If I see that you do, I’m suing your network. Now get lost. This is private property!”

He didn’t wait to see if she was going to obey. Hell, part of him wished that she would put that photo in the paper just so he could sue her; however, that would cause trouble for Derrick and that was ultimately what mattered in the end.

Derrick stood at the back of the lobby with his arms folded over his chest, looking as if he was trying to hold himself together. He bit his lip, worrying at it with his teeth. The urge to touch those lips, to soothe them away from their nibbling, came over Rowan and he could hardly resist, but he somehow managed it.

“Do you think they’re going to cause a problem for me?” he asked quietly.

“I threatened them,” Rowan said. “The thing about the press is that they really don’t want to cause any trouble for themselves. If I sued, I’d probably lose. But people would remember that it happened. I also said ‘fucking’ so they might not be able to use that footage. They could bleep it out but that would take time and effort, and they might not go for it.”

“How do you know so much?”

Rowan smiled a little. “Believe it or not, I was a nerd in high school. Think I read every book in the library. Anyway, come on. Let’s get you up to your apartment.”

Stairs weren’t involved, but the elevator was. They rode it up to the third floor together in silence, then went down to the very last door at the end of the hallway.

Derrick lifted his keys and found the one for his apartment and unlocked it. Pushing the door open, he stepped inside and then turned around to face Rowan. His eyes held a thousand words within them, none of which seemed to be able to find their way to his lips. In the end, all he said was, “Thanks for this. I appreciate it.”

Rowan smiled a little, then shook his head. “Thanks for letting me drive your car.”

Derrick laughed softly. He ran his hand through his hair again, making the curls stand on end. “And thank you for standing up for me. I appreciate that, too. You didn’t have to.”

“Sure I did. We were in a cell together.” Rowan hesitated and then barreled on with what he wanted to say. “I feel like when you’ve had that experience with someone, you should stick by them.”

He wasn’t really referring just to the physical nature of being in the holding cell, and something told him that Derrick understood. There was a softness in the other wolf’s eyes, a glisten of something that a human might find inexplicable.

“Anyway,” Derrick finally said. “I think I should let you get going. I’ve taken up enough of your time.”

“Take up as much of my time as you want.”

Later on, neither of them would really be able to recall who made the first move. It was as if their thoughts connected, as if they unanimously made the decision. Rowan didn’t remember leaning in, didn’t remember making a conscious decision to kiss Derrick, but then their lips were pressed together and they were staring into each other’s eyes with ferocity and hunger and understanding. In that moment, they were as one.

Then Rowan pulled back, still feeling the warm softness of Derrick’s mouth on his. It seemed as if he should say something but nothing could have spoken as loudly as that kiss, so he backed away a step. Derrick seemed to understand and nodded to him, closing the door.

And Rowan walked away, not sure if either of them understood what they had just gotten themselves into.