Page 23 of Pack Scratch Fever
The lie is evident in my tone.
“Damn it, Piper,” she sighs. “You’re just going to make it worse.”
I nod. “I know.”
“The longer you put off your Heat, the more insane it’s going to be.”
“Iknow.” My voice comes out strangled while shame colors my cheeks.
My Heat is going to be ridiculous, long, and intense.
I’m not looking forward to it.
Blair sighs. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “You’re my best friend, and you’re easy to love and even easier to worry about. And if you would justlistento me, everything would be fine.”
“Maybe,” I say, knowing she’s right.
One thing about me, though, is that I’m stubborn to a fault.
Even when it hurts me.
“I’m going to ask you again,” Blair says as we turn into a residential area, “are you sure you want to do this? I will turn this car around.”
I shake my head. “I’msure.Besides, don’t their scents affect you, too? I mean, I can’t be the only one that smells how good they are, right?”
Blair hums. “They smell nice,” she admits. “But not delicious. Not in a soul-shattering, soak-my-panties kind of way. If anything, they’re a neutral, safe scent.”
I nod. “Well, that’s good, at least. I don’t feel that way about them either.”
Her answering silence tells me she doesn’t believe me.
Liar,my inner voice chides.This is the most you’ve been affected by a scent in a long time.
“We’re here!” Blair announces, rolling the car to a stop next to the curb. “Three-four-three Chestnut Way. Holy shit, that’s a nice house.”
I try not to gawk as I open the passenger door. The single-story house is beautiful, with a long driveway that leads up to a garage with a dark tinted glass door. The walkway to the front is made of stone steps and surrounded by perfectly manicured hedges. The walls are cream brick with a dark roof, and arched exterior windows give a view to the inside with light streaming through them.
I’m ridiculously nervous. I look frumpy and out of place walking up their driveway with a cat trap in my hand and a duffel bag in the other while wearing a ratty old sweatshirt.
“It’s going to be fine,” Blair says quietly as she rings the doorbell. “We’re doing a good thing, helping them.”
I nod in agreement.
I’m not here for the Alphas—I’m here for the cats.
Avery is the one who answers, and the minute I see his expression, I’m relieved.
He looks just as frazzled as I feel.
“Hey,” he croaks out, running a hand through his messy blonde hair. His amber eyes are stressed as he looks at me. “Thank you so much for coming,” he sighs. “We didn’t know what else to do.”
His Alpha scent washes over me, a relaxing elixir of chamomile tea, and I smile softly at him. “That’s why we’re here,” I say.
“Typical Friday night for us,” Blair jokes, and Avery turns his attention to her, his eyes still pained.
“Really, I can’t thank you enough,” he says. He holds the door open for us, then looks back at me, his lip slightly quirking. “Do you want anything to drink? We have?—”
“Oh, shit, is that them?” Maddox yells from across the house, his voice echoing. “Are they here?”
