Chapter Ten Cory

"O h good, you're back," Sam said the moment I stepped into the lobby of the hotel. He slipped a bookmark into his book and sat it down on the desk. "I had a favor to ask you."

"Of course," I muttered, walking over to the desk and leaning against it. "You always do."

I was covered in flour, pizza sauce, and I stank of pepperoni. After a long night of deliveries, all I wanted to do was take a shower and go the fuck to sleep. And Sam, with his strange supernatural sensibilities, had picked the exact moment I was too exhausted to turn him down for whatever it was he wanted. Because, if I tried to tell him no, he'd keep me awake longer and probably guilt trip me a bit. Either way, it was just easier to do the man a favor when he asked for it. The dude was relentless.

Sam lifted his eyebrow at me. "You know I give you free room and board, right?"

"Don't guilt me, Sam. I'm too tired for that. Just tell me what you want so I can go to bed."

"I need some help this coming Thursday for a couple of hours in the morning if you can spare them," he said, completely ignoring my sass. "It's Thanksgiving and we're having a big dinner here that night for everyone, so I need some help in the kitchen." He reached up, booping me on the nose. "And you work at a restaurant."

"I deliver pizza," I replied, swatting his hand away. "And the last thing I want to do after cooking at my job all week is to come home and cook some more."

"Well, you won't be cooking," Sam smiled, placing his chin in his palms. "You'll be prepping."

"Great. My least favorite part."

He just blinked those big green eyes of his at me, batting his lashes. "Please, Cory? I just need some help to pull off this dinner and it'll taste a lot better if I have people helping who know what they're doing."

"Andy isn't catering?"

"He's making all the desserts and rolls and stuff."

"Did you ask Vince?"

"He has a pizza shop to run! I can't ask him!"

I rolled my eyes. "Uh-huh. So why not bother me, right?"

"Tell you what," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "If you don't want to help with prep, then you can help with the dishes afterward with everyone else."

I let out a long sigh. If there was one thing I hated more than getting up early to cook, it was cleaning dishes caked with food from other people.

"I'll help prep."

Sam smiled. "I knew I could count on you."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

"See you Thursday morning!" he called as I headed for the elevator.

"Right."

I was just happy Thursday was still a couple days away.

◆◆◆

I awoke to the sound of knocking on my door. Glancing at my phone I saw it was barely past seven in the morning. And to my horror, it was Thursday. The dreaded day had finally arrived.

I was exhausted. Since the night Sam asked me to help, the pizza shop had been so busy I could barely breathe. Everyone was avoiding cooking before the dreaded day of turkeys. Not only that, but everyone was stressed out as well, so they were tipping bad and behaving poorly. I really wasn't a fan.

Thanksgiving was probably my least favorite American holiday out of all of them. Sure, getting together with family and eating until you could barely move sounded nice. But that's never what fucking happened. What actually occurred was a week of craziness at work, then nights full of scrambling and grocery runs to make sure you had everything, stress, and finally the day of, you got to cook until you wanted to die. After a quick meal, it was dishes for the rest of eternity.

How delightful. Ugh.

Thankfully, I had no family to entertain. However, work being crazy and helping with cooking was not something I could get out of. Sam was right. He provided me with a meal every day and a free room for as long as I needed it. I'd been living at that hotel for two years now and that was no small favor. Not to mention he'd gotten me completely set up when I arrived empty-handed, naked, and covered in fleas. The man was a saint.

I just really hated getting up early.

There was a knock at the door again.

"I'm coming," I grumbled, pushing myself out of bed.

I pulled on a pair of shorts to cover my nudity and went to the door. As soon as I opened it, I saw Sam's smiling face beaming back at me.

"Good morning!" he grinned. "Happy turkey day!"

"For fuck's sake…"

"Late night?"

"The night before Thanksgiving? You better fucking believe it."

He patted me on the shoulder. "Well, we'll be done with prep by noon and then you can come up and take a nap before dinner!"

"Noon?!" I grimaced. "How much fucking food are you gonna make that it'll take five hours to get it all prepped?"

"There's nearly fifty rooms in this hotel and I invited some old residents out as well," he replied, still smiling. "We're all a family and families should be together on Thanksgiving."

I just shook my head, rolling my eyes at him. "This literally couldn't get any worse."

"Oh, stop complaining you sourpuss," he said, giving me a nudge. "Coffee is already on, and Andy delivered baked goods for those helping this morning." He winked at me. "And if you want one of those cinnamon buns Josh is so good at making, you better get downstairs quick."

I gave him the most teenager-ish sigh I could muster. "I'll be down in a minute."

"Tick tock! We've got a lot to do!"

"Uh-huh."

I shut the door as Sam walked away, trying not to curse him under my breath. He was great, I liked him a lot. But when I was woken up before the ass crack of dawn, I didn't have friends. In fact, I made it a point not to be friendly before noon. So, there was a very good chance nobody in that kitchen was gonna like me this morning. Probably better that way. I was too tired to talk anyway.

It took me a few minutes to work up the courage to put clothes on and make my way downstairs. By the time I reached the kitchen, it was already filled with voices. I stood outside the door for several seconds, wanting more than anything to just sneak back to bed or better yet, straight the hell out of the hotel. Maybe I could take a nap on one of the benches in the park or shift into a wolf and curl up in the woods. Anything to get some more sleep.

But I pushed it away. I'd made a promise, and I wasn't going to break it. I hated being so nice all the damn time.

With a deep breath, I pushed the door open and found myself nearly face to face with Andy who had a crate full of pies in his hands.

"Woah!" he called, pulling the pies back at the last second. "You almost got me there!"

"Sorry," I mumbled, stepping aside and pulling the door open for him.

"No problem," he said, stepping through. Then he glanced back over his shoulder. "There's only a couple cinnamon buns left! Get one before they're gone!"

I let the door go and headed further in, spotting Sam over by the industrial sized stove.

"Where's the coffee?" I asked, tapping him on the shoulder.

"In the small break room," he replied, pulling a giant pot out and slapping it on top of the stove. He pointed toward a door on the left side of the room. "Through that door. Pastries are in there too if there's any left."

"Thanks."

"When you get back, I'll have you start chopping vegetables."

"Cool."

I headed for the door, promising myself that I'd take my time with the coffee and pastries. Sure, there was a lot to do, but I needed a minute to get myself out of this irritated, zombie-like state I was in. And the only cure for that was silence and caffeine. A bit of sugar wouldn't hurt either.

Pushing the door open, I saw there were three or four other residents in the room helping themselves to coffee and treats. A couple of them nodded my way and I returned the gesture. But I didn't pay much attention. Instead, I took one of the biggest mugs I could find and filled it to the brim with hot coffee. Even the scent was enough to start to clear my senses a bit.

Then I spotted them. The cinnamon buns.

There was only one left.

I headed for it, not wanting to miss one of Josh's signature creations. The man had only been in Shifter Grove for a year and already he had the reputation of being the best baker in town. Andy wasn't really happy about losing that title, but since it was his very attractive mate who took it, I don't think he really minded that much. Besides, I was certain he got something way better at home each night. The two of them were deliriously happy and always flirting with one another. Vince and River were always making jokes about it.

I was still in a bit of a fog as I reached out for the cinnamon bun. But instead of my fingers wrapping around warm dough and gooey frosting, they collided with another hand. Someone else was trying to get my cinnamon bun.

Following the hand, my gaze eventually landed on a familiar face and my heart came to a screeching halt.

It was him .

"H-Hi," Liam said, his finger still touching mine. "I… I didn't know you would be here this morning."

My chest flooded with a mixture of anxiety, excitement, and anger. How I could manage to be scared, happy, and pissed off to see him at the same time was beyond me. But that feeling didn't last long. Anger won out, and I tore my hand away from him.

"Piss off," I muttered and turned away.

I went back to the kitchen with my mug in hand, slapping it down on the prep table where Sam had set out several of Ace's late season vegetables already. I tore one of the knives from the magnetic strip, took a big gulp of my coffee, and began to chop with a ferocity I didn't know was possible. Sam hadn't given me any directions, but I didn't care. All that mattered was getting my work done so I could get the fuck away from Liam.

"Cory?"

My skin prickled as I heard Liam's voice behind me. The little bastard was following me now. But I wasn't gonna have it. So, instead of giving him the attention he wanted, I just chopped harder, cleaving an entire pumpkin cleanly in two with a single blow.

Footsteps receded and out of the corner of my eye I saw him slink to the opposite end of the kitchen where he got to work on some other dish Sam needed prepped. However, it wasn't until I turned back that I saw the plate with a fork balanced on the edge of it sitting next to my coffee.

It was the last cinnamon bun.