The Modern Witch's Guide to Faking It With a Werewolf

When I wake the next morning, the bed is empty beside me. A surge of panic floods through me, a tight knot forming in my stomach. It's irrational, but the sudden absence of Max, especially after last night, leaves me unsettled.

Hurriedly, I toss on a sweater and a pair of jeans, my mind racing with questions. I decide to call him, but the phone rings and rings without an answer, only heightening my anxiety. I grab my purse, shoving my phone inside, and head for the door, telling myself that everything is fine, that nothing has changed.

Just as I step outside, my thoughts swirling, I nearly crash into him. "Stars, Max," I exclaim, clearly startled. He's standing there, holding two cups of coffee and a bag that smells deliciously of pumpkin spice scones.

"Were you going somewhere?" he asks, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"No," I reply, a sigh of relief escaping me as I process his familiar, comforting presence. The tension from earlier melts away, but not completely. "Just... needed some fresh air, I guess."

"Ummhmm," he says, not entirely convinced. "Well, you could have fooled me. Maybe you want to eat before you run off."

His tone is light, teasing, but there's an undercurrent of something more. I nod, stepping aside to let him in. "Sure, breakfast sounds good."

We settle at the small table by the window, the morning sunlight filtering through the curtains. Max hands me a coffee and opens the bag, revealing a dozen perfectly golden scones. I take a bite, savoring the warm, spiced flavor, but my mind is still half-focused on the unease from earlier.

"Thanks for this," I say, glancing up at him. His eyes are back to their usual green, and he seems more relaxed, yet there's still a lingering tension between us, a subtle shift in our dynamic that's hard to ignore.

"Of course," he replies, watching me carefully. "It's kind of an apology for last night."

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. The events of the previous night, the almost-confession, and the way he looked at me, are all swirling in my head. I take another sip of coffee, trying to steady my nerves.

Max clears his throat, breaking the silence. "I wanted to talk to you about something," he says, his voice more serious now. "About what I was trying to say last night before we were interrupted."

My heart skips a beat, the unease creeping back in. "Max, you don't have to—"
Max shifts uncomfortably in his seat, then meets my gaze with a hint of hesitation. "Actually, there's something I need to tell you," he begins, and I brace myself, not sure what to expect. "My grandmother has been trying to set me up with all sorts of female wolves from the nearby packs. And you know we have our annual hunt and howl pack event this weekend, and I sort of told her I was seeing someone."

My gut twists at his words, a strange mix of relief and confusion washing over me. "You're seeing someone?" I ask, not entirely sure of what he's implying.

He shakes his head, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. "Well, I need my grandmother to think I am, so she stops trying to set me up with random females."

"Okay?" I say, still processing. "So... what does this have to do with me?"

He takes a deep breath, looking almost sheepish. "So—will you come with me for the weekend and pretend to be my girlfriend? That way, my grandmother will be satisfied, and hopefully, the matchmaking will stop."

The request catches me off guard, and I can't help but let out a small laugh, though it doesn't quite reach my eyes. "And this is what you wanted to talk about last night?" I ask, my voice tinged with disbelief.

Max lets out a breath, nodding. "Yeah. I know it's a lot to ask, but I thought maybe... if you're not busy, it could be fun. And you'd get to see more of the pack. I remember how you always use to ask me to take you."

I consider his words, the idea both intriguing and nerve-wracking. It's not just about pretending to be his girlfriend; it's stepping into his world, one I've only glimpsed from the sidelines. "Okay," I finally say, a small smile playing on my lips. "I'll do it."

Max's expression brightens with relief, his eyes meeting mine with a grateful intensity. "Thanks, Dallas. I really appreciate it."

As we finish our breakfast, the tension between us eases, but a new layer of complexity has been added to our friendship. The lines between us are blurring, and I'm not sure where they'll lead.
————
Max sprawls across my bed, one arm tucked behind his head, as I pull out another outfit. His casual critique makes me laugh, though his seriousness catches me off guard. "No, that's too casual," he says, glancing at my closet with an appraising eye. "Do you still have that green dress you wore to Chloe's birthday dinner?"

I dig through the jumbled mess of hangers and clothes, finally spotting the familiar green fabric. Pulling it out, I hold it up for his inspection. "This one?"

A mischievous smile spreads across his face, and there's a gleam in his eyes that makes me instantly wary. "Yes, that one."

The way he says it, with a hint of something deeper, sends a shiver down my spine. Then he licks his bottom lip, and I can feel my face heating up. Instinctively, I grab a pillow and toss it at him. "Max," I shriek, trying to keep my tone light, "don't be a creep!"

He laughs, catching the pillow with ease and tossing it back onto the bed. "I'm not being a creep," he protests, still grinning. "I just remember how good you looked in that dress."

I roll my eyes, fighting a smile. "Sure, whatever you say."

As I turn back to the closet, I can't help but feel a flutter of anticipation. This whole fake girlfriend thing is getting more complicated than I expected, and I can't deny there's a part of me that's curious to see where it leads.