Page 77 of The Fangirl and the Grump

As hard as I try, I can’t think of a single reason to go back there other than Pressley and our budding influencer business. As if she’s read my mind, Pressley’s foot kicks out to nudge my knee.

“If you decide to stay, we can make it work. I would insist on us visiting each other regularly, anyway, and we could just film a bunch of videos at once. It’s totally doable.”

My eyes sting with tears as I shoot her a wide smile. Hopping up, I ditch the bag of cheese puffs and grab my shoes. As I slip them on, Pressley lets out a loud whoop.

“Do you want to borrow my car? The keys are in the kitchen.”

“No,” I answer. “I can walk. It’ll give me time to figure out what I’m going to say.”

“Good luck,” she gushes, jumping to her feet to hug me. “I love you, girl.”

“I love you, too,” I say, squeezing her back. “And Pressley?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for being such an amazing friend.”

“Right back at you, babe,” she says with a teary laugh. And as I release her and head for the door, she shouts, “Go get him!” punctuated by a long, loud howl.

Laughter bubbles out of me as I shake my head and dart through the door, jogging down the steps and not slowing until I hit the crowded sidewalk in front of Moonstone Mystic. It’s pure mayhem. A town this size isn’t meant to handle this many people. I search every face in the crowd, looking for the one I love, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

I rush across the street to the inn, waving at the night manager as I jog up the steps to Trace’s apartment. I bang my fist on the door and bounce from foot to foot as I wait, but there’s no answer.

He’s not home.

Rushing back down the steps, I almost trip, but manage to catch myself on the banister before I tumble the rest of the way down. Waving at the guy behind the desk as I pass by again, I run outside and snake my way through the crowd.

Fuck. Where is he?

I pull out my phone, deciding to just call him, but before I can tap the screen, I spot his beautiful, scowling face as he stomps out of the tavern. My chest hollows out as my heart speeds up, the sight of him bringing me back to life after three weeks of grieving over him.

Lifting a hand into the air in a wild wave, I scream the one thing that’s sure to get his attention in my loudest, highest voice.

“Wolf Daddy! Ahh-ahh-ahh-wooo!”

Trace freezes and squeezes his eyes closed as hundreds of howls echo mine, making me laugh. CursedCubs unite!

I start to run, and as if by magic, the sea of people parts like I’m freaking Moses, or something. The howling continues, cheering me on as I race toward my man. I see him open his eyes, and a second later, they land on me. His scowl disappears, replaced by a dumbfounded expression, like he can’t fathom why I’d be rushing toward him.

Without slowing, I slam into him, wrapping my arms around his waist and plastering my body to his. His own arms come around me without hesitation, and he hugs me so tight, I can hardly breathe.

I don’t care. Who needs air, anyway?

This hug is worth it. Worth everything.

“Keegan,” he breathes, hugging me even tighter than before. “What are you doing?”

“I missed you,” I mumble against his broad chest.

He hugs me for a moment longer, then grips my upper arms to hold me still while he takes a step back. He looks devastated, and little cracks form in my heart.

“We can’t––”

“I’m not leaving,” I cut in before he can finish that statement, and his body petrifies on the spot.

“What did you say?” he whispers like he can’t believe his own ears.

I’m terrified, but I refuse to let that stop me. If Bram was telling Pressley the truth, the only reason Trace set me aside was to protect his own heart. Because he was sure I was leaving him.

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