My mind whirls. Unplanned shifting? Heat clinics?

“I can’t hole up for weeks,” I argue. “I’m here for a job.”

“Any chance you could work remotely?”

“I’m a contractor. I do renovation for cabins and lodges and such.”

“Ah. That’s a pickle.”

“It is,” I remark dryly.

“Well, I obviously can’t force you either way,” Dr. Carter says. “I can only suggest. But I would keep a close eye on your body. You don’t want to overexert yourself.”

“But the meds should help, right?”

“A little,” she says. “As I said, we don’t want to medicate you so much that your body can’t process the change it’s going through. This is a natural thing. For the most part, we just have to sort of let it run its course.”

Perfect, I think. Just perfect.

“Okay,” I say with a nod. “Okay. This is fine. Just…If you could get me those prescriptions you mentioned, I can deal with the rest.”

“If you have any more trouble, don’t hesitate to come back in, okay?”

“Sure,” I answer, knowing that’s unlikely. The jobsite is almost two hours away. I won’t have time to pack up and head out every time I get a cramp. “Of course.”

“Right. I’ll get you those prescriptions before I release you.” She starts to turn toward the door but pauses, giving me one last concerned look. “Oh. One more thing. It’s very unlikely, but I should mention that you should steer clear of alphas.”

“Alphas?”

“Another secondary designation,” she tells me. “Their pheromones, like yours and mine, are stronger than your average shifter. Being around one might wreak havoc on your system.” She shrugs. “It’s probably a nonissue. They are also incredibly rare.” A small, strange smile touches her lips. “But then again…you never know.”

I watch her go, still stuck on pheromones. Nothing about any of this feels like real life.

I check my phone when she leaves, seeing that my brothers have responded to the group text, asking if I landed okay. It takes all I have not to laugh at that. I am definitely not ready to have this discussion with my family. I don’t even know what I’m going to say to my brothers when they fly in to join me on the job at the end of the week.

The job.

I groan. I’m still expected to show up at the small ski lodge this evening—a little place just up the mountain, near the neighboring town of Pleasant Hill. The woman I’ve been speaking to, Jeannie, seems nice enough, and I can only hope that she won’t notice if I have to escape to the bathroom to deal with an influx of cramps or sweating or God knows what else during the next few weeks while I oversee the renovation.

I laugh dryly.

At least things can’t get any worse.

•   •   •

“Made it to Nowheresville yet?”

In hindsight, I probably should have let Ada’s call go to voicemail. It’s only been a couple of hours since the nice doctor at the ER informed me my entire life was changing, but since my best friend is like a shark smelling blood in the water when it comes to sussing out my moods, I doubt I can keep any of this from her for long.

“Almost,” I tell her, slowing for a stop sign. “It’s really off the beaten path.”

“Never a good sign. That’s how you get axe-murdered.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not going to get axe-murdered.”

“That’s what every person who gets axe-murdered thinks. No one wakes up thinking, ‘Oh, today I’m going to get axe-murdered,’ but then, before you know it—you’re human firewood.”

“I am officially putting you in time-out from those true crime podcasts.”

“You’ll change your tune when I keep you from becoming human firewood.”

“How about we stop using the term ‘human firewood’ when I’m this close to a secluded ski lodge that I’ll be staying at alone until my brothers fly in?”

Ada snorts on the other end of the line. “Thomas and Chase are in more danger than you are. They’re pretty, but they don’t have the same hardware upstairs as you. Kyle, maybe.”

“Hey, now,” I laugh. “That’s not very nice.”

“I’m kidding,” she says. “You know I love those big lugs. But still, there’s a reason you’re the brains of the operation, and they’re the muscle.”

“And cameramen,” I correct.

“And cameramen,” she agrees.

“How cold is it there?”

“Somewhere between frozen toes and cracked lips.”

I can practically hear her shudder. “No thanks.”

“Definitely a far cry from Newport.”

“I’ll think of you while I’m on the beach later,” she says with sympathy.

“That makes everything better.”

“Obviously. Are you feeling better? Did you end up going to get checked out?”

I bite my lip, considering. Ada would understand. I’ve never asked for the ins and outs of what she is—but that doesn’t mean I haven’t picked up bits and pieces over the years that we’ve been friends. I’m not ready to tell anyone yet. Not when I haven’t figured out my own feelings about it. I’m already half panicking enough as it is without her hysterics added to the mix.

“I feel better,” I tell her. It’s not a complete lie. I do feel better after the meds Dr. Carter gave me. “Not dying, at least.”

“Just make sure you get checked out if you start feeling shitty again. It sounded like you were really suffering when I talked to you last.”

“Maybe I ate something bad,” I offer, knowing that’s not the case. It could be a possibility though, in an easier turn of events.

“Have you heard anything back from HGTV?”

“Not yet,” I sigh. “They said it could be a couple of weeks.”

“Yeah, well, they’d be stupid not to green-light the show. You haven’t had a TikTok fall under a million views in months.”

“My brothers are optimistic, but…”

“You’re the worrywart.”

“That’s me,” I laugh. “It just comes down to the fine print. I don’t want to jump into anything that is going to make our job not fun anymore, you know? I don’t want to totally be beholden to their whims.”

“I get that,” she says. “What does your dad think?”

My hands tighten on the steering wheel, my jaw clenching. With everything happening today, my problems back home are the last thing I want to discuss.

“I don’t know,” I tell her honestly. “I haven’t told him about it yet.”

“You haven’t told him?”

“No, and I told my brothers not to tell him either.”

“But why?”

“Because…” I frown, thinking of the awful year he’s had. That we’ve all had. “I don’t want to get my mom and dad’s hopes up if it doesn’t come through. I’ll tell them when I have good news.”

“Babe, that’s a lot of pressure to put on yourself.”

“I know,” I sigh. “But what choice do I have?”

I can practically see the sympathy in her eyes even from so far away, my chest constricting when I think about everything riding on this deal. Of the good it could do when it comes to dad’s medical issues.

“This is all contingent on whether or not HGTV passes,” I grumble.

“Shut up,” she tuts. “If they do, then they’re walnuts.”

“Walnuts?”

“Felt appropriate,” she tacks on. “If they do pass on it, they suck, and I will boycott their channel.”

“You and I both know the day you give up Property Brothers is the day you’re six feet under.”

“They’re hot twins with hammers. I won’t be judged for this. Just a sec.” I hear her shuffling on the other end for a moment before her voice returns. “Can I call you back? That’s Perry’s school on the other line.”

“Absolutely. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Sure. Call you later.”

She disconnects the call, and I’m suddenly even more glad that I decided not to tell her yet about everything happening with me. It’s not that I don’t trust Ada enough to tell her what’s going on, it’s just that I know how much she worries—it’s the mom in her—and if I tell her about everything that’s happening, there’s a good chance she’ll be packing up her and her son, Perry, and hopping on the first flight out. She has enough going on with the whole single mother thing; she definitely doesn’t need any of my drama stressing her out even more. I’ll give myself a few days to wrap my head around it first.