The Never Wanted Mate

Drunken Mistakes I

Devin

I walk aimlessly down the street, not really paying attention to where I am going. 

I pass by an upscale part of town. Fancy restaurants and people walking around with too much Botox on their faces. Fake things have always repulsed me, so I try to find the one normal spot in the sea of fake. 

I find an elderly woman, struggling to put boxes in a moving truck. She is dark skinned and she has beautiful curly hair. Her brown eyes are big and kind. She has several wrinkles on the edges of her eyes and mouth, making it appear like she has laughed quite a bit during her life. There is a spirit to her walk and it’s easy to see she is confident. She looks like she would be one amazing grandma to have. And she looks real. 

It looks like she is moving out of somewhere. And since I have nothing to do, I decided to help.

“Hi, ma’am. Do you need some help?” I ask. She spins and studies me with a suspicious look. I look back at her with my most charming smile I can manage. Hopefully, I look like the gentleman I’m trying to be. 

“You are no gentleman,” Terri says in my head.

“No one asked you,” I snapped back at him.

“Why are you trying to help a black woman?” She asks.

Her words startle me. Our pack is so intertwined in the international community that we do not see color. Even in our pack gatherings, you see every shade of color, and I think it’s beautiful. 

“Yes, you are black. But I’m not here because you are black. I am here because you looked like you may need help. And I would like to help you. No second intentions.” 

She continues looking at me with suspicion, but after a good stare, she nods.

“Okay, my apartment is on the second floor. If you could just bring the boxes down the stairs, that would be very helpful.” 

“Yes, ma’am!” I quickly go up and start bringing boxes down. It’s work that doesn’t require much thinking, so my thoughts keep drifting to my mate. I can almost smell her jasmine smell. It’s faint, but I guess it’s ingrained into my memory. 

“What is your name, young man?” The elderly woman asks.

“I’m Devin. What is your name miss?”

“Lorena. It is nice to meet you. You look like you are lost. Maybe you are the one who needs help,” she says. 

I chuckle at her words. I need a lot more than help right now, but I have no idea how to explain my situation. So I shrug and say, “life just got very complicated,” 

There is a long pause before she speaks up. “Would you be interested in an apartment in town? My lease ends in a couple of months, but I’m moving back to my hometown because my grandson is sick. If you need to get away for a while, my place is yours.”

I didn’t really need a place, but maybe some time away from everyone is what I need. It’s close to my college, and I could be alone to process my next steps without having to entertain my twin, whom I rent a condo with. 

“I would like that very much,” I tell her. 

I help Ms. Lorena pack up her belongings in the moving truck. We lock everything up, and I look around to figure out what she needs now. 

“Do you want me to drive you to your destination?” I ask. 

“Oh no, no. My son is going to drive it there. His flight was delayed, so he is running late. Plus, I need to say goodbye to my neighbor, Elliot. We have been across from each other for a long time. Let me take you out to eat, to offer my gratitude for your help.” 

I don’t want to be rude, so I agree. We go across to a restaurant and sit. I get a whiff of jasmine, again. I’m starting to think my mate has actually been to this part of town, and it’s not just my memory of her. The thought gets me excited. Maybe I can find her after all. 

I talk to Ms. Lorena while ordering some good old fashioned burgers. She is a very good, entertaining talker. I chuckle through most of her stories. She is a retired lawyer and had her fair share of crazy experiences. None of them are, of course, regarding her clients. 

“Ms. Lorena, did you trade Elliot for this gorgeous man? Not that I would blame you, but it’s Elliot! No offense,” the waitress says while taking our orders. 

“This kind, young stranger helped me move all my boxes. He worked hard and deserves Sadie’s Burgers,” Ms. Lorena starts, “but don’t, for a minute think, Elliot will be replaced!” 

“Well, hello, kind young stranger. I’m Taylor,” the waitress says. I give her a smile and nod, “Devin.”

Ms. Lorena starts another great story of her golden years. And that’s when I started drinking. It started with a couple of beers, followed by some whiskey, followed by some vodka. Drinking my worries away. Maybe if I can just forget my mate tonight, I will be able to handle tomorrow. 

Taylor finished her shift and joined us. We both laughed along until the fun ended and Ms. Lorena went away with her son. 

Taylor and I hung out for drinks a bit longer. Werewolves usually don’t get drunk, so I thought I would be okay. Well, I guess the “okay” part has its limits because by the time Taylor and I finish drinking, I could barely walk straight. And neither could she. 

 “Hows you get homes?” She asks giggling.

“I lives there,” I pointed a shaky finger to the apartment.

“You lives in the food trucks? You needs a better homes!”

I squint to find a food truck, but I don’t find any. 

“No, no trucks,” I responded, grabbing her hand to lead her to the apartment. She and I need to sober up a bit before I can make sure she gets home safely. 

I mess with the key trying to open a door, but someone opens the door.

“You are in the wrong apartment. What’s the number you are trying to get to?” A girl asks.

“5,” I say, holding my fingers up.

“Oh boy, you have seven fingers out.”

I look at my fingers. I can’t tell if I have 11 or 12 fingers because there are so many. 

“Woah, I have so many fingers. How many fingers do you have?” I ask her.

“Are you high? Never mind, let me take you to your place,” she responds quickly. Taylor and I follow her. She takes us to another building and up some stairs until I’m at a door that looks like I’ve seen before. Why have I seen this door? 

Maybe this is where I live now. 

I fiddle with my new keys, and it takes several tries because this door suddenly has four new locks. At least, I think. Luckily the door opened after the first lock. 

I swung the door open and Taylor and I stumbled into the empty apartment.

My head starts spinning with every step I take, and that is when I feel her hands on me. Even in a drunken state, I knew that in an ordinary day I would have my pants down and around my ankles by now. Except, it isn’t an ordinary day. I found my mate today. And I just couldn’t…and wouldn’t go on. Besides, even if I wanted to, my wolf would murder me. I try to grab her hands without success. 

“Taylors, you is beautifuls, but this no-not happens-ing,” I try my best to get her off of me.

“Why? Don’t you want it?” She asks me, flashing her t**s. It doesn’t have any effect on me and I subconsciously shake my head while I continue my mission. I know I will detox from the alcohol much quicker than she will, so I just need to hold it together for a little longer.  

In fact, I can already feel my head starting to clear up. 

She protests and tries to unzip my pants. I finally managed to peel her off of me. I need her to get sober. I get some ice cubes out of the fridge and put it down her shirt. I hope this kills the mood. I mindlink Aiden to come help with my current predicament. 

A piece of an ice cube hits me in the face. What the—-

I stare into Taylor’s dark eyes, she is glaring at me.

“What the hell was that for?” She asks.

“Taylors, I am-s sorry. I can’t,” I tell her with my hands up in the air. She continues glaring at me, but there’s a knocking sound on the door. It’s so loud that it startled both Taylor and me. Aiden? No! My eyes widen as I recognize who is on the other side. 

I go to open the door. I could barely breathe because an intoxicating jasmine smell is filling my nose, making me more inebriated than I already am. I wanted my mate, so bad. And here she is.

Suddenly the door creates too much division between me and her. Yes, don’t ask why, but I just need this door off. I try to pull it off the hinges but her voice brings my attention back to her.

“You?” She says as she sees me, “how did…” her voice trails off as a very drunk Taylor walks over and starts running her hands down my torso. 

My member had become hard the second I saw my mate, and Taylor must have managed to unzip my pants, so my prized possession was bulging out of my pants.

“Maybe you should come back. Help me finish what we started,” Taylor says suggestively. 

I immediately met my mate’s eyes. There is a shocked, look on her face?

“Mates-ey, it not how this looks-ey,” I tell her desperately. I try my best to mentally clear my head, but she tries to close the unstable door. She somehow manages to get it closed. I try to open it to go after her, but I forget to turn the door knob so I collide with the door and fall on my ass.