To Kiss a Werewolf

by Molly Snow



  To Kiss a Werewolf

  (Werewolf Kisses, #1)

  Copyright Molly Snow 2013

  Published 2013 by Breezy Reads

  Contact: breezyreads@gmail.com

  BreezyReads.com

  ISBN: 978-1-938327-09-4

  What some Goodreads users have to say:

  “To Kiss A Werewolf' was a fun read, full of surprises!” —Tracy

  “A fresh take on almost everything para-related.” —Kirsten

  “Highly recommend for young adults and adults that enjoy an interesting, well written story.” —Jane

  ONE

  Damien slid another Capernalli stuffed crust special out of the brick oven, onto a pizza pan, and across a counter. He wiped the back of his glistening forehead with his forearm. Five nights out of the week, it was the same routine, yet he would be a fool to complain about it. Working at his Uncle Leo’s pizzeria, Dough-licious, gave him extra cash and time with his friends. Then there were the girls. Not that Damien needed the extra money, friends, or especially girls.

  He went to a refrigerator and pulled out a lump of dough, then returned to his spot. As he mashed the stuff against the flour-powdered counter, his eyes couldn’t help but focus on the muscles of his forearms, pumping with each push. They were bigger than usual. It had been weeks since he went to the rec center and lifted weights. Was he having some sort of growth spurt, or could swimming in the surf of the ocean make that much of a difference? Either way, it was another thing he’d be a fool to complain about.

  “Hey, brah! Wassup?!” a voice called from the front counter.

  He looked up and saw his friend Tyler. The blond guy with a shell choker smiled big. “Wassup!” Damien called back, purposefully not reciprocating his “brah.”

  Being new in town, about six months now, made it so Damien had to get used to some foreign beach lingo. He was fine with Tyler, or the others, saying “Brah,” but the word could never roll off his own tongue.

  “Heading out to the shore tonight?” Tyler asked.

  “You know it.” Damien nodded. He’d gone nearly seven days a week for all of July. August wouldn’t be any different.

  “Cool. There will be a bonfire this time.”

  “Cool, see you there.”

  When Tyler walked away, a girl who had been standing right behind him, waiting, came into view. Silky long black hair shimmered down the sides of her face, down the sides of her sad yet strangely beautiful eyes. A gray cardigan sweater wrapped over… a zombie t-shirt? Zombie Fallout, it read, advertising a book.

  No one was at the register. Damien looked around, waiting a moment longer, before coming forward.

  “Uh, can I help you?” He leaned against the counter. With satisfaction, he noticed the girl catch a look at his bicep that bulged from under his white tee. Even though she wasn’t his usual type, he went into auto-drive, flashing a smile at her with perfectly straight and white teeth.

  Her eyes flitted away from him to the menu. “I, um, I don’t know.” She wiped some hair behind an ear.

  “You’re not sure what you want?”

  “I mean, I know that I want pizza.”

  “Well, then you’ve come to the right place.” The entire menu consisted of pizzas, besides the drinks. Uncle Leo was against salad bars.

  She cleared her throat. “Yeah, do you sell by like the slice?”

  “That’s during lunch hours only. Your first time here?” As soon as he asked that, he knew it sounded like a come-on. This girl was different, but he couldn’t help but feel a slight attraction, and it came out in his tone.

  “Y-yes. It’s my first time here.”

  “Well, we got the Emo—I mean, Primo Pizza, which is my favorite.”

  “I’m not emo.”

  “I didn’t say you were.” He coughed to cover his embarrassment. What was that?

  Tina’s heels click-clacked against the concrete floor. The new and voluptuous cashier from last semester’s biology class came back to the register. “Hey, Damien. Thanks.” She touched his arm. “I got this.”

  “Alright.” He acknowledged her with a nod and returned to his back counter. He rolled out some more dough and mashed it, while keeping an eye on the rest of the transaction up front. Lately, Tina had been stealing his attention, but he couldn’t help but wonder who that customer girl was. Had he seen her before? Maybe had a class with her?

  Tina filled a glass with some Mr. Pibb and soon the customer girl was off with it in hand.

  “What’s the order?” he called out.

  “Just a soda.” Tina ripped off the receipt and crinkled it.

  “No pizza?” he asked, perplexed.

  “Nope!” She threw the paper in a trash and started walking toward him, her apron tied tightly to accentuate every curve, Dough-licious spread across her chest.

  “Oh.” He wiped his hands on his own apron, watching her, but his thoughts weren’t on her and her dough-liciousness.

  ‘“Oh’ what?” Tina was now in front of him, her eyes twinkling.

  “It’s just that she said she wanted pizza.” His dark eyebrows furrowed at the thought.

  “So, Damien,” she leaned on his countertop, “I’ve been thinking…”

  *

  “That was so stupid,” Stella whined once outside. “I was so stupid. I can’t believe you talked me into that.” She only had a couple sips of her Mr. Pibb, before she had placed her drink on a table and rushed with a huff out of there.

  “You mean you actually did it?” Kit, her best friend, smiled. “What did he say?”

  “No, I didn’t do it.” Stella put a hand to her forehead and held it there. “That was just stupid. He now thinks I’m stupid.”

  “Well, think on the bright side—at least he knows you exist.”

  “Kit, I can’t believe you sometimes.” Besides soggy French fries and the color pink, listening to Kit now ranked at the top of her extremely-dislike list.

  “I know, but you love me.” Kit tilted her head, her short purple hair shining in the night.

  Stella released the hand from her forehead and sighed. “So now what?”

  “Well, you still need to fulfill your dare.”

  “Huh?!”

  “It’s only fair for you to finish the job.”

  Caleb rushed to the sidewalk, where they stood. “What did I miss? Did you do it? You did it?” His dark hair fell across one side of his face.

  Stella glared at him.

  “You didn’t do it,” he said. “What are we going to have her do now? We have to up the ante.”

  Stella rolled her green eyes. “Caleb, you just had to act like a dog.”

  “Au contraire! I didn’t just have to act like a dog. I had to crouch on top of a doghouse in Sarah Connor’s backyard, howling and yapping until you two were satisfied,” he flung his arms out, “while she watched me from her bedroom window!”

  He was right. She had to admit, it was pretty gutsy. But what could be worse than walking into Dough-licious, right up to Damien Capernalli, most popular guy in high school, and asking him on a date? Especially when she didn’t want a date with him to begin with. Popular guys are just so full of themselves, exchanging girlfriends as often as their underwear. The thought made her imagine Damien as a boxers kind of guy. Even with an Angry Birds or SpongeBob motif, he would surely be scorching hot. Ugh! She kicked the thought out of her mind.

  “Okay,” Stella said, thinking fast, “I could wear something really girly on the first day of school. That would definitely make me feel like dying.”

  Her friends smiled knowingly at each other, smiles that said they weren’t going to let her off the hook that easily. “You can’t choose your dare,” Kit said. “Plus, school won’t be in session fo
r another month.”

  “Yeah,” Caleb said. “You have to do something tonight, like we did.”

  “This really is not fair. You two like making fools of yourselves. Kit, you liked singing I’m a Little Tea Pot to Jason at Taco Bell’s drive-thru.”

  “You didn’t have to play the game,” Kit reminded her. “But you agreed it would be fun.”

  “I did think it would be fun, because I thought it would be like a regular game of Truth or Dare. Not like some Fear Factor TV show.”

  Kit chuckled at that. “We didn’t ask you to eat bugs.”

  “Well, maybe you should have.” Stella crossed her arms defiantly, and looked up to the cloudy sky. And how long would Shoreline be so cloudy, making summer nights colder than they should be? Didn’t they live in a beach town? How come the stereotypes couldn’t match real life? She should have known moving to Oregon would be too far north; it’s not like sunshiny San Diego by a long stretch. Thankfully, her beach trip to California was just around the corner.

  “Okay, Stella, are you ready to finish your dare?” Kit nudged.

  “What if I just resign as a player?”

  “Then,” Caleb said, “you won’t be able to come with us to Comic-Con.”

  “Dude, I’m not the one into comics and cosplay,” Stella reminded.

  Kit’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “That’s right. She’s not. We have to think of something else. Okay, I got it. If you don’t follow through with the dare, then I won’t drive you to The Deathheads’ meet and greet. In fact, I won’t even take you to their concert.”

  The Deathheads were only the coolest hair band ever. Never had any other group been the face of the super-mega-ultra-repel-bullets-with-one-single-squirt hairsprays found in travel sections across the nation. And no one but their lead singer Rock could properly pull off stretchy, leather hip-huggers, blitzed in rhinestones no less. Being a girl, even Stella wouldn’t, couldn’t, pull it off. Most of all, Stella wouldn’t, couldn’t, possibly miss the concert. It was their reunion tour. The opportunity would never come again.

  “Kit, don’t use your car against me. Not when it comes to The Deathheads. You know how much I have been squeeing over the opportunity to see them live and get their autographs.”

  Just then the front door whipped open. A guy had his arm around a girl and they merrily went on their way to a red jeep. The door opened again and a guy shouted at the two, “Don’t forget, tonight is the big bonfire! Tell Travis, too!”

  “Alright! See ya,” the one with a date called back.

  “Okay, then…” Kit’s eyes returned to Stella and she said, “Just do your dare, like we did ours.”

  “Oooh, I got the perfect idea!” Caleb smiled wickedly. “If you fail to go through with this dare, then you have to go to the bonfire tonight—you know, where all the surfers, including Damien, will be—and we’ll dress you up like Sandy from Grease!” He guffawed at his clever little plan.

  Stella rolled her eyes and guessed it was only fair she follow through with their first order. Who knew that her dare would be like this, though? Asking the guy she was least interested in on a date? She never even asked the ones she did like on dates. This was going to be harder than anything she ever had to do. Well, besides breaking up with Billy. That was definitely hard. She reassured herself that this should actually be a cake walk in comparison.

  “Alright, alright. I’ll do it.” She exhaled.

  “For real this time?” Caleb took a bite of beef jerky from out of his pocket.

  “Yeah, whatever.” She took a deep breath, and walked backwards toward the door.

  “You go, girl!” he offered.

  Stella shook her head at her friends, when the door suddenly swung open again. Someone slammed into her from behind. She fell hard to her knees, and scraped her palms, having caught herself from further injury. “Watch where you’re going!” she exclaimed, picking herself back up off the ground and wiping her jeans.

  “Oh, wow! I’m so sorry,” said a familiar voice. “I-I didn’t see you there.”

  Stella turned around to eye the idiot. “You didn’t see me here?”

  His deep brown eyes looked her over in concern. Part of her—a very small part—almost forgave him right off the bat. He answered, “Yeah, I… don’t know why. It’s dark out. Your hair’s black. I’m sorry. You okay?”

  Stella caught her friends watching closely by in anticipation. That was just wonderful. Did they expect her to suddenly switch gears by asking him on a date right then and there? “Why would you barrel out the door like that anyway?” she snapped.

  “My jeep. My friend’s borrowing it, but I forgot my cell phone. Hey, I’m really sorry.” He looked Stella over from head to toe, causing her to suddenly feel very insecure. Her palms were slightly dirty, bloody, and then there was the terrible stinging sensation. But the fact that Damien Capernalli was that close to her, looking so closely at her with his deep brown eyes, it overwhelmed all other senses.

  “Well, just be careful next time,” she said, and thought instantly how stupid that sounded. Next time he was about to what? Knock over some lame girl in a parking lot?

  “Let me make it up to you,” he said. “You wanted a slice of pizza, right? I’ll get you a slice of pizza. I’ll make it however you want—extra pepperoni, stuffed crust, the works.”

  Hm, maybe her dare wouldn’t be so hard. After the accident, he was pretty much putty in her hands and she knew it. All she had to do was say the words, and all would be fulfilled. He would politely reject her, which she wanted anyway. And then seeing her favorite band of all-time would be back on the calendar. Oh, and playing Truth or Dare would forever be out of the question.

  She nodded, feeling her knees shake. He held the door for her, and on the way in Kit and Caleb gave her thumbs up… as if that would help.

  After washing her scraped up hands in the restroom, Stella sat herself in a corner table, away from a bunch of the other teens socializing. Damien soon came back with a double pepperoni, thin crust slice, precisely as she requested. “Here you are,” he said, slipping a plate onto her table.

  Stella thought she better say something before her nerves played this game out any longer. Besides, Damien, oddly enough, was lingering over the chair across from her. “Thank you,” she started.

  “You’re welcome,” he said, studying her further with his eyes. Stella wondered if maybe she had something on her face. She glanced at her reflection in the metal napkin holder. Everything seemed okay.

  “Can I do anything else for you?”

  Stella was considering maybe she had given the popular guy too little credit. Maybe he was pretty decent. Don’t think seriously about this, she told herself. It’s a game. And his question was the perfect segue for her to be done with the ridiculous dare. “Uh, yeah, Damien…” She cleared her throat, and looked down to her hands which were balled up nervously on her lap. “I was wondering if, like, maybe we could go out, like on a date I mean. I totally understand if you—”

  She looked back up. His eyes were on something, or rather someone else. Tina. She was pointing at her watch, and he was nodding with a smile. “Oh,” he turned his attention back to Stella, “did you say something?”

  Now frustration and anger pushed her fear deep, deep down. Why was she so nervous, over a guy who would forget about her in 2.5 seconds flat, after he was done giving her a slice of charity pizza? Over a guy who moments ago basically called her an Emo? He wasn’t worth getting all flustered up over. “Yes, I did say something. I was freaking asking you on a date. So just hurry up and tell me no, so I can be done with this.”

  His dark eyebrows quirked as he did a double-take. “You were asking me on a date?”

  “Yeah,” she huffed. “I know, that’s weird. I’ll just go. I’m sure you have plans or a girlfriend or—”

  “I… do have plans. But I’m—”

  “No need to say sorry.” She suddenly stood up, her chair screeching against the floor, drawing at
tention from everyone to her little corner. Stella just hoped they hadn’t heard what she said to him. Quickly wiping her hair behind her ears, she started away from her table, away from Damien Capernalli.

  “Your pizza…,” Damien trailed.

  Stella stopped, and knowing full-well she would make a complete fool of herself, she turned and said loudly, “I don’t want the pizza! I just want to go.”

  Damien looked at her incredulously. “Go then. No one’s stopping you.”

  Stella hurried to the door, feeling all eyes on her. It would be recorded in her journal as one of the worst nights of her life.

  Dear Diary:

  Tonight was one of the worst nights of my life…

  As always,

  Stella

  *

  Sea salt wafted in the humid sky, the full moon hidden by dark, puffy clouds. Normally, Damien would be feeling on top of the world. A night at the beach, with a pack of friends and girls—one in particular basically throwing herself at him. The typical blonde bombshell cheerleader. Piece of cake. But things weren’t feeling quite right.

  Tina wrapped an arm around his, as she sat with him beside the crackling bonfire. She endlessly giggled, even when he wasn’t joking. It was way overboard. She was trying too hard, and suddenly she wasn’t as attractive. Man, why be so serious? he told himself. Just go with it. She’s hot. You like her. She obviously likes you.

  But it was hard to let loose when he kept thinking about that girl at his uncle’s pizzeria. She must have known him from school. She had called him by name. So, why couldn’t he put a finger on who she was, what class they may have taken together? He not only knocked her to the ground like a fool, he did something else to anger her. If only he knew what that was… What made it worst of all, he was actually going to accept her request for a date. It’s just that tonight he already had plans with Tina.

  A half hour later, Damien was making out with the blonde in his jeep. He was going through the motions, but his head still wasn’t clear. Why was he going to let some random girl from earlier that night ruin his mood? It was so, so irritating. He wished she never walked into his workplace. Whoever she was. Whatever her name was. Tonight could have been so much easier, not being confused over some dark and depressed Goth girl.

  As he kissed Tina’s neck, the scent of her floral perfume quickly morphed from soft and seductive to strong and sickening. As if he had licked a bar of soap, he could taste the smell. He pulled back and shook his head, wiping his nose with a shoulder.