Chapter 49
Jackson's POV
"The pleasure's mine," I said aloud, infusing my voice with genuine respect. "Your daughter is outstanding in both academic and artistic pursuits."
"Have you?" His tone was carefully neutral, but those sharp eyes missed nothing. "She's mentioned your dance collaboration."
I felt the weight of his attention like a physical thing. This was a test. Every word, every gesture, was being evaluated.
Time to be direct. Honest.
"Actually," I turned my attention back to Ellie, and felt some of my nervousness ease when I saw her curious expression, "I was hoping to discuss something with you, Ellie. The Martinez real estate development project needs a performance for their grand opening. The other Dance Society members are all committed to the Homecoming rally preparation." I paused, choosing my words carefully. "It's just you and me with open schedules. Would you be interested in partnering with me on this?"
I watched her consider, saw the slight tilt of her head that meant she was thinking it through. "I'd need to see the details, but... yeah, I'm interested. Though, I was planning to have lunch with my dad today, and I have class this afternoon. Tonight might work better for discussing specifics?"
Before she could finish the thought, her father interjected smoothly. "Actually, Ellie, I just got a text from your mother." He pulled out his phone with practiced ease. "She needs me to pick up some gardening book from the campus bookstore—apparently it's urgent and needs to be mailed back today."
I watched Ellie's expression shift to confusion. "What book? You didn't mention this earlier."
"Just came through." He waved the phone vaguely, and I had to suppress a smile. This was the least convincing lie I'd ever witnessed. "You know your mother—when she gets an idea in her head, it's an emergency."
He's making an excuse to leave, I realized with a jolt. He's... setting us up?
Mr. Green turned to me, and the look in his eyes was unmistakable. Approval, mixed with a very clear warning. His next words confirmed it. "Why don't you two have lunch together and discuss your project?"
"Dad—" Ellie started to protest.
"It's settled." He stood up, brushing off his jeans, then extended his hand to me again. This time, the grip was different—still firm, but warmer. "Jackson, it was good meeting you." A pause, weighted with meaning. "Take care of my daughter."
I straightened instinctively, understanding the implicit message. This wasn't just casual parental concern. This was one werewolf father entrusting his daughter to another wolf's protection. "Of course, sir."
He nodded once, satisfied, then turned to Ellie and dropped a kiss on her forehead. I caught a glimpse of her bewildered expression before he walked away, leaving us alone on the observation deck.
The silence stretched for a moment. Then Ellie shook her head, and I saw her fighting a smile.
"So," I said, allowing my own smile to break through, "lunch?"
"My father is the least subtle person on the planet." But she was laughing now, her embarrassment giving way to amusement.
"I don't know, I thought that was pretty smooth."
"You would." She stood up, gathering her bag. "Okay, fine. Let's go discuss this mysterious Martinez project over food. But Jackson?"
"Yeah?"
"If you ever tell anyone my father literally set us up, I will end you."
I raised my hands in mock surrender, grinning. "Your secret's safe with me."
---
Two hours later, I pushed open the Dance Society office door. Tyler looked up from his phone, that infuriating smirk still on his face.
"You knew," I said flatly.
"Knew what?" His expression was pure innocence, but his eyes were dancing with mischief.
"That was her father. You knew that was her father."
Tyler's grin broke through. "Okay, fine. Yeah, I might have overheard their conversation earlier when I was passing by. And I might have noticed you've been staring at her performance video on your phone like it holds the secrets of the universe."
I crossed my arms, trying to look stern. "So you deliberately—"
"Gave you a push? Absolutely." He leaned back in his chair, completely unrepentant. "Someone had to. You've been circling around actually asking her out for weeks. I figured a little manufactured jealousy might move things along."
I wanted to be angry. I should have been angry. But looking at Tyler's unrepentant expression, and thinking about how lunch had gone—Ellie's laugh when I'd described my disastrous attempt at making Thai food, the way her eyes lit up when I showed her the Martinez project concepts, the casual brush of her hand against mine when we'd both reached for the same menu—I felt something else entirely.
Grudging gratitude.
"You're an idiot," I said, but there was no heat in it.
"Maybe. But I'm an idiot who just got you a lunch date with Ellie Green." He wiggled his eyebrows. "You're welcome."
Among wolves, there was no courtship. The bond was immediate, instinctive, inevitable. You recognized your mate, and that was that. But I wasn't operating as a wolf right now—I was Jackson Wilson, pre-med student, Music Society president, someone who could choose to do things differently. And maybe, I thought, watching the way Ellie had ducked her head when I'd complimented her insight about sustainable design, maybe the human way had something to it.
This gradual unfolding, the discovery of who she was beyond what my wolf already knew—her dry humor, her passion for justice, the way she worried her bottom lip when she was thinking hard about something. It wasn't about physical desire, though god knows that was there too. This was something else. Something that made my chest feel tight and warm at the same time, like I was learning a language I hadn't known I wanted to speak. Getting to know her, earning her trust, making her smile—there was a pleasure in that I hadn't anticipated. A very human pleasure.
As I left the office, I pulled out my phone and opened my messages. My fingers hovered over Ellie's name, then I typed quickly before I could overthink it.
Thanks for lunch. Looking forward to working with you on this. Let me know when you're free to start planning.
Her response came almost immediately. Me too. And Jackson? Your Thai food story was literally the most chaotic thing I've ever heard.
I laughed out loud in the middle of the hallway, earning curious looks from passing students. But I didn't care. I typed back: Wait until you hear about my attempt at making sushi.
Oh God.
Exactly.
As I walked to class, I felt lighter than I had in weeks. Tyler's ridiculous manipulation aside, something had shifted today. Ellie's father had assessed me and found me... acceptable. More than acceptable—trustworthy. And Ellie herself had relaxed around me in a way she hadn't before, laughing freely, sharing stories about her family, letting her guard down.
It was a start. A good one.
My phone buzzed again. Another message from Tyler: You're grinning like an idiot again. Just FYI.
I didn't even bother to deny it.