Page 11 of Trick or Heat

If I’m not too careful, I could build up hope for something that isn’t real. I could convince myself that this stolen moment between us meant more than it did. I could let myself fall into the delusion that she is mine.

As I fill up a glass, my mind wanders back to the party. The moment before Elsie succumbed to her heat spike comes roaring back. The harsh but delicious hint of honey bourbon circling us, how my best friend’s skin immediately broke out in a sweat. My body was full of mixed emotions, both aroused by Elsie’s proximity, by her touch, but also by the warmth of dark liquor mixed with sweet nectar. It was incredible, the most delicious thing I have ever inhaled, but then it was gone and Elsie needed me.

If I think about it too much, I’ll start to come up with an explanation that might be better left unsaid. There’s no way to know who I was scenting, or where they are now, so the hope in my chest that there’s someone out there for me… someone fated, seems ridiculous. Scents aren’t always subtle. I love Elsie’s scent more than my own and she isn’t my scent match. It could’ve been a chance at scent compatibility, at being with someone compatible.

If it were, I missed my chance. Not that I mind. Even with something that tempting, I chose Elsie. I will always choose Elsie.

I tip-toe back into her room, pausing when I hear the quiet snores from beneath the covers. My best friend curls onto her side now, exhaustion settling in after such an intense flare up. I place the glass of water and tiny aspirin on the end table, finally undressing before I crawl in next to her. I don’t want to leave her, too worried that she might wake up and need me once more. I scoot closer, folding myself around her until I hear a satisfied hum from her lips. She melts into my touch as I close the distance, pulling her into my body and holding her gently.

It hits me then that she’s going to have to find alphas and fast. I don’t think she’s hooked up with any since we’ve been here, at least not anyone that I’ve heard about. Bile rises in my throat when I realize what this means, how the best thing for her will be me taking a step back so she doesn’t have to be in any more pain this week.

It’s not time to confess how much she means to me. She and I both know the likelihood that we’ll find a pack that wants us both, and now isn’t the time to revisit that dilemma, not when she needs to find alphas soon. I need to give her the space to do that, let her experience this fully. Maybe after this is all over, I can revisit the idea of telling her how I feel.

I don’t have what she needs to make her feel better right now, and as much as that hurts to admit, I have to be realistic. Her well-being is the only thing that matters to me.

My heart aches, but at least she will be taken care of. At least that means she will be okay.

SIX

“You two just had to grow up to be bigger than me,” I mutter to myself as we come upon the door of our apartment. Brodie leans into me from one side while DJ is clutching onto my other arm for dear life.

“Well, muscle up, buttercup,” the latter says, laughing before he makes an abrupt hiccuping noise.

“Gosh, you’d think from all the times I’ve dragged you two home that I would have enough muscle to keep doing it.”

DJ gives me a dazed smile, happy and content as his pumpkin eggnog scent pours out. It’s doused in sunshine and illuminates the air around us; it also causes me to huff out in frustration because I can never stay mad at him.

I mean, look at his stupid face. How can I be angry with it?

My hands work overtime as I try to get the key from my pocket. It’s a lot of rearranging, preventing the guys from falling over, and juggling the keys all at the same time. When I finally get the door unlocked, I feel like I’ve run a marathon.

“You fuckers,” I mutter again, not fully sober myself. “All because you were cocky and thought you’d win another game of beer pong.”

Our apartment is my sanctuary. When the candles and trinkets and other things that make it feel like a home come into view, I inhale my first breath of fresh air all night. DJ moves out of my arms as I close the door and lock it, kicking his shoes off as he moves on a mission.

And that mission, apparently, is sleeping.

DJ gets to the couch and slumps over, his arm dangling off the side.

“You don’t want to sleep in your room?”

He doesn’t get to answer, because there’s a soft snore coming from his lips. I let out a quiet chuckle.

“Enough said.”

Brodie isn’t usually this quiet after a night out, but he stays mute by my side, no amusement or even awareness coming from him.

“Let’s get you to bed,” I tell him, which finally rewards me a tiny smile.

Brodie is the biggest of our trio so getting him to his room is a hassle, but once he is falling onto his comforter, I sigh with relief. Brodie’s brown hair is sticking up in every direction, and his eyes look distant as he stares down at the floor.

Gosh, I hope he doesn’t throw up.

With that thought, I walk into his bathroom and grab the bin. Hopefully with this beside him, I don’t have to worry about him throwing up on the carpet.

I set it down beside him and turn to leave the room, halting when Brodie slurs out the first words he’s said since we left the party.

“I almost met my scent match tonight.”