The next morning, Rafe drove up into the parking lot. I was sitting on the curb, trying to catch some extra shut eye in the way you can pretend an extra minute is a half-an-hour nap.

“Morning, Tai,” he called, window rolled down. Looking at him not being asshole-ish enough to honk the jeep horn.

I shriveled my shoulders close, and then stood to my feet.

“I still can’t believe they want you to go in this early for paperwork. Crazy,” Rafe said, as I climbed in.

He handed me coffee as I tried to blink consciousness into my eyes. I took a sip and shuddered.

Rafe laughed. “That bad?”

His entire demeanor radiated peace, as if last night he hadn’t taken the decision out of my hands and decided to find a hotel. And I hadn’t been tossing and turning playing our conversation over and over again in my mind, wondering if I should have said he could sleep here too and it wouldn’t have bothered me (lie), that I hadn’t meant what I’d said (not sure), and that I still cared about him (truth).

I lowered my head and pressed my eyelids against my palm. While minute, the buzzing pulsed at my temples. “It’s not helping. I just want to sleep.” I forced myself to blink rapidly, but my eyes were so, so dry.

Rafe took the coffee from me without another word and pressed a paper bag into my hand. “Eat. It’ll wake you up faster.” Inside was a warm muffin. “Don’t be picky.” I kept looking at it. “It’s blueberry, okay?”

I picked it out of the bag doubtfully. “…You sure it’s not raisins?”

“I smelled blueberry,” he said, easy. “Last time I mixed them up because I got distracted. Cut me some slack, alright?”

I took a careful bite. Blueberry it was, and too sweet for my tongue. Made with a lot of butter—it wasn’t dry at all. Under Rafe’s watchful eye, I forced myself to swallow, chewing on automatic. “Thanks,” I said, a little awkward, after swallowing. “For the food. And for the ride. I’ll figure out how I’ll work with public transportation this afternoon.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’ll drive you then too. It saves you an Uber or a nightmare figuring out the bus routes last minute.” He tapped at his phone. I watched as he pulled up the address that I’d texted him this morning in a panic. He glanced up at me without moving his head. “What time did you sleep?”

I set the muffin back in the bag and closed my eyes, leaning my head against the headrest. “I don’t remember.”

“Did you even sleep in the bed?”

“I didn’t even have time to get the sheets out. I just passed out on the couch.”

“Again?” Rafe said, exasperated. A hand fell to ruffle the hair on my head before I could make a noise of complaint, my own hand flopping uselessly. “You always do that. And then you wake up in the middle of the night panicking about brushing your teeth. Are you going to be okay living so far out here?”

“It’s not like I can tell them I change my mind. I signed a contract.”

“I guess so,” Rafe replied, in the voice he used when he didn’t really agree, but he wasn’t about to argue. “Alright. Nap for now. I’ll wake you up when we’re there.” So saying, the warm weight flopped over me. My eyes cracked open to see a blanket. “Nap.” Rafe pulled it over my face.

“I’m not a corpse,” I said, muffled, pulling the blanket down.

“Better hope not,” Rafe said. “Now begone.” He pulled it back over my face before I could say anything, and because it was a pretty good idea, I ended up doing it all.

It was honestly better this way, I thought, slightly guilty.

Rafe always looked out for and at me if he could help it. It was something about werewolves being pack, I figure, even though humans are social animals as well. I know no one is meant to do everything themselves. Societies evolve, bonds form, life is meaningful because we have other people to share it with. He went out of his way to push me out of my shell many times. He had me visit his pack once or twice before I’d chickened out and gave more and more excuses.

I wondered if I reciprocated it enough. I wonder if he thought this was all unequal and unfair, because it sure had felt like it yesterday.

This time, I wondered if his patience was reaching its limits. If he was lighter hearted now, back to the Rafe I remembered, because he’d come to agree with my assessment. That we…

.

..

...

...oh.

I was back in my old apartment again, the one with the open hole over the bathtub because the apartment above me had a leaking toilet. They’d removed the mold by removing the entire section of ceiling, but it meant bugs and spiders and centipedes had found their way in. Rafe was telling me to leave the one that’d taken residence right above the showerhead alone.

I know I was asleep because I was feeling calm. It’s been years since I’ve felt fine in my own skin, because when Rafe and I started dating, it was just something between the two of us. That no one else needed to know about—that I never needed to tell someone about. That it was just my business, and it didn’t need to be anyone else’s.

“Spiders are good for your house, you know.”

“Yeah,” I edged, stepping closer to him, as if it was natural. He could feel my hackles rising, and he seemed even more amused. Rafe’s hand crept to my hip, and I crept closer, arm wrapping around the small of his back. His body warmth soothed me—how long had it been since I’d let Rafe get this close without thinking too much about it? “But what if it comes down?”

“Spiders more scared of you than you are of them.”

“That’s the fucking worst thing I’ve ever heard.”

“What about the time the conspiracy theorists tried to sell you on flat earth?”

“Second worst,” I corrected. The words just slipped from my mouth, easy.

“I’ll say,” Rafe agreed, bending his face down to nose at my neck. He was beaming, although I don’t know why. It made me smile too, except I didn't want to. “You almost got pressured into signing up for their gym until I stepped in.”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me.” The spider above lifted a leg. I stiffened, fingers grasping at his shirt material. “Rafe, please.”

He lifted his head and glanced up. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Have you never lived somewhere with spiders before?”

“It was a messy house. And if I saw them, they got lost.”

Rafe couldn’t really have cared in the end. “Well, worst I can put it outside for you, but another one’ll probably take its place eventually.”

I groaned, burying my face into his pec. “Stop. I don’t want this.”

“Tai,” Rafe said, and he’d say my name this little way that always made the butterflies in my stomach jump a little. It was a little rumble; and I felt my own cheeks warm as the blood ran down. “It’s okay, I love you the way you are.”

It was the first time Rafe had told me he loved me, and it was so casual, as if I hadn’t spent weeks wondering if we were actually just really close friends, or if I was just imagining and overthinking about how much he actually liked my company—maybe he’d get bored, that sort of thing.

It stunned me a little at the time, to hear him say it. And I never said anything. Rafe took it well, but I think it bothered him. He was quieter after that; he didn’t say much, but when it was time to go, he went.

I regretted it, back then. I always thought, maybe I could’ve said something.

And that’s the thing with dreams. You can say something else.

“I love you too,” I said. It was quiet as it was a whisper, but Rafe heard it.

And it was easy, so so easy. It didn’t have expectations because we didn’t have any at the time. It didn’t need to be or have a heavier meaning than what it was. There wasn’t any expectations; it was just something to say. They were just words in the end, and it wasn’t that I just liked him—so it worked out.

His gaze softened, and he brushed a thumb at my jawline. I looked up to see—

“Tai,” Rafe—his hair cropped shorter, his eyes calmer, his thoughts more private—said. “We’re here.” He pulled his hand from my face, inscrutable, and then gestured to the security box at the open window and the gate before the jeep. “They said they need your ID to get in?”

“Wha--" Confusion turned into embarrassment that I'd forgotten to tell him. I scrambled into my wallet. "Oh, sorry give me a second--"

We’d arrived at the research facility.