Page 15 of Wolf's Whisper

Laughter erupts around the room as I stride over to the table, grabbing a cue from the rack. The light banter and clatter of pool balls hitting each other is a welcome distraction. I line up my shot, focusing on the task rather than the turmoil.

"Always cocky, Wolf," Tank teases as I sink a solid ball into the corner pocket.

"Just confident," I shoot back with a wink, allowing myself to get lost in the game. With each stroke, tension ebb away, replaced by the familiar thrill of competition and camaraderie.

We play a couple of games, laughter and good-natured ribbing filling the air. Moments like these remind me why I love this brotherhood so much—they're an escape, a family, a constant in my ever-complicated life.

After losing narrowly to Tank in the second game, I lean against the wall, watching as Smoke takes his turn against Tank. The room is filled with clinking glasses and the low hum of conversation, a perfect backdrop to gather my thoughts.

I realize I can't keep Janelle and what I feel for her at bay much longer. It's like trying to hold back the tide with my bare hands—futile and exhausting. She's seeped into every crack of my hardened exterior, making me question everything I thought I knew about love and connection.

As Smoke lines up his shot, I pull out my phone again. This time, my fingers are steady as I dial Janelle's number. The phone rings, each tone echoing slightly in the noisy room.

"Hey Wolf," Janelle's voice comes through, sounding surprised yet pleased. "Everything okay?"

I take a deep breath, leaning further against the cool wall. "Can we meet? We need to talk about a lot, and I don’t think it can wait."

Sure, ah yeah, that sounds good. Obviously, you would come here." Her voice is cautious but open, a hint of hope threading through her words.

"Perfect. I’ll be there in an hour," I reply, feeling a strange mix of nerves and relief.

As I hang up, I glance around at my brothers; their faces blurred into the background of my sudden determination.Smoke catches my eye, giving me a knowing nod as if to say, 'Go get what you need.'

I smile gratefully and make my way out of the clubhouse, mounting my bike more purposefully than I’ve felt in a long time. The engine roars under me, mirroring the tumultuous excitement brewing in my chest.

The ride to Janelle’s is quicker than usual, or maybe it just seems that way because my thoughts are rushing faster than my bike. When I pull up to her modest single-story house, the front yard where her kids often play is quiet and serene. It feels like even the universe is holding its breath.

I rehearse what I want to say as I knock on her door. The questions, the confessions, all of it tumbling around in a chaotic symphony that I'm desperate to conduct into some semblance of a melody.

The door swings open, and there she stands—Janelle, with her hair pulled back in a messy bun, wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans that somehow make her look more beautiful than any decked-out dame I've ever seen.

"Hey," I manage to say, my voice steadier than my racing heart feels.

"Hi," Janelle replies, her smile cautious but genuine. "Come in."

I step inside, my thoughts going a mile a minute. If she doesn’t like me the same way, then what? Is it a crush or forbidden fruit?

No time for second-guessing now. I follow her into the kitchen, where a pot of coffee, probably just as strong as the one back at the clubhouse, is brewing. The homely smell settled some of the chaos inside me.

Janelle pours two cups, her movements graceful and familiar. She places one in front of me on the small kitchen table, then sits opposite, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "So, what's on your mind, Wolf?"

I take a deep breath, picking up the coffee cup for something to do with my hands. "Look, Janelle," I start, pausing to gather my thoughts. "I know this might come out of left field, and I don't want to make things weird between us. But I've got to be honest about how I’m feeling."

Her brow furrows slightly, concern etching her features. "Okay..." she prompts, her voice soft.

"It’s about us," I continue, feeling the weight of each word as it leaves my mouth. "I think there's something here, more than just friendship or... or whatever this started as. And I need to know if you feel it, too."

Janelle remains silent for a moment, her eyes searching mine. The tension between us stretches, tangible and thick.

"I... I've felt something too," she finally admits, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm scared, Wolf. Scared of what this means, scared of jumping into something new when my past still feels so present."

I nod, understanding her hesitation all too well. "I get that. I'm not saying we rush into anything. Just that... maybe we start exploring what this is. Together."

Her smile returns, cautious but hopeful. "That sounds... doable," she says, a lightness seeping into her tone.

Locking eyes with her, I approach her from the table, but she stands up as I approach her. Janelle looks up at me, her eyes reflecting fear and excitement. "Wolf, what if I told you I want you to kiss me?"

The room becomes tense, a moment frozen as I process her words. A smile slowly spreads across my face, like the rising sun. I move closer and gently hold her face in my hands.

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