Page 27 of Scent of Home

I pull out a notepad and write those three words down. When I look up, I find Finn, Erin, and Locke staring at me.

“What?” I snap and wince at my defensive tone.

“What are you writing?”

I stare at Finn and finally break free of his stare, walking past him and into the street. My writing is personal and private. The revelry is slowing down a bit, but that’s because most people will be heading out to Finn’s for the music tonight.

Ugh! I need to find my noise-canceling headphones.

I stop when I’m near my truck, far away from their probing eyes, but stop short when I catch sight of Bray roaring up the street on his bike. My chest gets all tight, and I get this strange, horrible feeling that I should chase him, which is ridiculous because Bray hates me.

I watch until he’s gone, and then stomp towards my truck, furious at myself for continuing to be mixed up and confused about him still.

He’s not for me. He might feel like mine, but that’s not my future.

I get in and drive away, refusing to acknowledge the fact that I might be running.

I get home and sit in the truck. Restlessness keeps me in the cab, drumming my fingers on the dash. It takes five minutes before I cave. I get out, but I don’t go into the cabin. Instead, I take the trail that goes near my house, and I walk. I’ve got good vision in the dark, but even if I didn’t, the moon is huge tonight. I’m not even sure when it changed from twilight to dark, I was too deep in my thoughts of him.

I find the lookout just fine and spot the bike. I stand in the tree-line, watching. Bray leans his head back and shouts. It’s the kind of sound that makes your skin crawl. It’s a sound of despair and hopelessness.

This is where I first fell for this alpha. The smile is gone; the laughter isn’t in his eyes. He’s not flirting or teasing. All that’s left is the raw pain and existence that is Bray. He’d been captivating and so much deeper than I’d ever thought.

He has become my muse. I stand in the tree-line and watch as he picks up a branch and whacks a tree. He beats the tree until the branch snaps, and then he throws away the piece that he has. He scrubs his fingers through his hair and groans.

“I am such an idiot.”

I want to ask why. I want to reveal myself, but I’m a coward, like all the other times I’ve been here. It’s agony to stay silent. I remain hidden, wishing, wanting, frozen by fear.

If I could speak to him, I’d say it’s not him that’s the idiot, but me. Those words I said in jealousy, in misery.

I watch as he picks up his helmet and puts it on his head. He climbs on his bike and disappears.

In the dark, alone, I wander back to my cabin, thinking over the strange behaviour of Bray. He said my ass looked good. He was mocking me, obviously. What else happened to leave him looking so defeated? Is he finally going to do it? Is he going to leave?

My heart jumps into my throat and threatens to strangle me.

I get home and rush over to my desk, sitting and putting the ponderous words down before I forget them. When I look up, three hours have passed, and I can hear the sounds of music and people having fun.

After I devour something, I clean up and then go out onto the porch.

Before I can stop and think about it, I make myself walk towards the main house. The party will go late. I don’t know what makes me seek companionship tonight, but I need it.

Am I searching for him or her?

Or both? Or more?

I see the lights but refuse to let myself waver. There are more people than I anticipated, and it almost makes me retreat, but I see her standing there, leaning against the bar, her body encased in a dress of teal and white. She raises an eyebrow and then pushes off the bar, the dress twitching in opposition to her hips.

There’s something so calming about this woman. I scowl as she gets closer, but she doesn’t touch me. She holds out a beer. I take it and edge closer to her, surprising myself.

“Where is your friend?”

She smiles up at me and points to Finn, who is dancing with Locke. It’s the first time I’ve seen Finn dance, and the sight is scorching. I wheeze and suck down half the bottle. I watch them for a long moment and then scan the place, searching for Brayson.

He’s not here, I realise, and I’m disappointed.

I focus on Erin, but she’s sipping her beer and watching Finn dance. He truly is a horrible dancer, but Locke is laughing and appears to be having a great time. It’s just seeing them together is doing all sorts of things for me.

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