Chapter 3
Tyler
Two options lay in front of me. I could keep sitting on that creaky front porch swing, surrounded by overgrown rose bushes that crept out onto the broken stone path leading up to the front steps of the Victorian that now belonged to Hudson.
Or I could go back home with my metaphorical tail between my legs and get beat to within an inch of my life.
Shit choice, really. Physical pain was nothing to me anymore. I could handle it. Grueling emotional torment that would probably get me nothing but the deepest cuts my ex-not-really-my-boyfriend could muster?
Terrifying.
It dawned on me, staring out into the dark sky where waves crashed below a scattering of brilliant stars, that I was exactly where I’d been four years ago. The same exact choice.
Freedom or familiarity—the reprise.
The fact I’d returned to that crossroad told me I’d been unhappy with the decision I’d made my first go around.
Hell, I’d known that the moment I made it.
I didn’t need the string of endless marriage candidates or the monotonous, soul-crushing day job at my father’s law firm to tell me I’d chosen wrong.
I certainly hadn’t needed the throwdown with Emery-the-goodest-boy-Evans to make me see that. Those rounds sure did bring it all to the surface, though. It had been nice, having a target I could actually hit back. Em had done me a favor, forcing me to be honest with myself.
And I fucking hated him for it.
Not because he made me see just how badly I missed Hudson. Not because he’d forced me to accept that I was living a goddamn lie, day after day, pretending I could be this person, this cookie-cutter image of my piece of shit father.
But because there was no going back after that.
Emery had come to me looking for answers. Looking for a piece of the puzzle that might ease the pain of losing someone he loved. I don’t think he got what he wanted. Wouldn’t really know. We hadn’t spoken a word to one another in over a year.
I definitely didn’t get anything I’d wanted out of that brawl. Just two reminders, scrawled over the remains of a map that once laid out my entire life, now worn away.
One, what you want isn’t here. Two, even if you find him again—he’s beyond you.
Getting into a scrap with a werewolf is a really good way to solidify a guy’s mortality. A great reminder that no matter how much you work out and take care of your body, no matter how much money you have or how good looking you are, you are indeed human.
In the end, Emery had his fist around my throat.
If I hadn’t been so brutalized both inside and out from our exchange, I would’ve been turned on.
Em had gotten fucking hot since high school—ripped in all the right places, with that ginger chest hair poking out of his collar, bright blue eyes drilling into my soul.
It would’ve been hotter if he hadn’t wanted to kill me for what I’d done to Hudson.
Not that I could blame him. Part of me hoped he’d do it, but both of us knew that wasn’t going to fix anything.
I knew Emery was in love with Hudson before he did.
Maybe I should’ve let them be together. Just kept to my football buddies and ditzy little fan club friends, and let them live out their supernatural romance without the oblivious mortal getting in the way.
Hudson and Emery against the world, both physical and metaphysical.
Knowing about magic had always made me feel a little special, at least. Never understood the things Hudson and Em would blather on about together, but I was in on a secret the rest of the world was oblivious to.
Hudson had gotten the scolding of his life for doing magic in front of me when we were kids.
All he’d done was wave his hand over a fresh rose bud in the very garden I was staring at from the front porch, making it bloom right before my eyes.
Grams nearly cast some spell to make me forget what I’d seen, terrified of what would happen if my father found out.
She’d raised her hand, staring down at me, tears all over my face because I was afraid it was going to hurt, having a memory plucked from my brain like that—then suddenly, she stopped. Gave me a soft smile. Made me swear I’d never tell a soul.
With the added threat of being turned into a toad if I broke my promise, which, as an adult, I realized she never would have. But nine-year-old me sure as shit believed it.
So yeah, I’d been in on all things supernatural nearly as long as Emery had. I wasn’t part of it, though. I wasn’t a paranorm like them. And there had always been this little voice in my head, right from the moment I realized how badly I wanted to kiss Hudson, that it wasn’t me he should be with.
But I wanted him. I’d had him. I could’ve had Hudson for the rest of my life.
And I had broken him, all because I’d been too fucking scared.
My phone buzzed in my lap, and I glanced down, glowering at a new message my father had sent.
I’m leaving for Denver in the morning. I’ll be checking the cameras to see when you have the nerve to come home. And when I get back, you and I are going to have a serious conversation about your future.
With a sharp exhale through my nose, I grumbled, shoving my phone back into my pocket. “Maybe I don’t want your future, dick.”
Around midnight, the sound of tires on gravel sent my heart to my throat. My whole body jerked upright on the porch swing. The tattered cushion I was sitting on slid forward, nearly dropping me on my ass.
Hoping my fumble hadn’t been noticed, I leaned back in the swing, doing my best to play off my presence as casual concern in place of the bumbling ball of panic and nerves that I was.
My eyes narrowed when I realized it was Emery pulling up to the house in his fourth-generation Chevy Impala with rusted blue paint.
Spotting his passenger, I sucked in a breath, and my stomach soured.
Hudson looked like complete shit. There were dark circles beneath those gorgeous green eyes. His hair was all over the place, and for some reason, his shirt had been nearly ripped in two, right down the chest. And where the hell was his truck?
My fists curled, fingernails cutting into my palms. If Emery had manhandled him in order to bring him home, I was ready for another round. I leapt to my feet as he parked, getting an eye roll the second he met my glare.
“Down, boy,” Emery droned as he shut the door, glancing over his shoulder to where Hudson sat in the car, staring me down. “He’s fine.”
“What did you do to him?” I spat, pacing down the front steps.
Folding his arms over those pillowy man-bosoms where they popped out of his tank, he shrugged, wearing a cocky smirk. “Extracted him from the horny masses of The Hole, let him rub up on me for a bit to get out some of that pent-up energy, then brought him home.”
“Let him—” A murderous, albeit very human, growl left my throat as I stared between him and Hudson. “He’s a witch, Em. I think he can handle himself.”
“Oh, I’m not arguing with that,” he said, reaching for his lower back with a pained stretch.
Hudson muttered something under his breath as he finally left the vehicle, slamming the door shut.
“What the hell happened to his shirt? That your work?” I hissed, glaring at Emery.
“Yep,” Em sighed, rolling his eyes. “You know me. Just couldn’t help myself.”
“I’m right here,” Hudson snapped, stomping over. He glanced between us, irritation etched into every line of his face. “I ripped my shirt. I didn’t need either of you chasing me down. I am a witch. I can handle myself. And I am not either of yours to protect! Back off!”
Emery blew out a soft whistle. “I’d listen, unless you wanna get thrown across the lawn.”
“That a threat, puppy dog?” I shot back, flexing a bit.
“Oh my fucking god, just kiss already,” Hudson snarled, pacing toward the house. “Leave me out of it.”
Em puckered up instantly, taunting me.
“Fuck you,” I mouthed, turning away from him. “Hudson—”
“Go away, Tyler.”
“I mean it, Ty,” Emery called after us, looking smug as he leaned against the hood of his car. “His magic is getting feisty.”
“Piss off, Emery!” I shouted back. “I need to talk to Hudson. Alone.”
“No,” Hudson snapped, stopping at the top of the porch steps as he turned back.
“Just… no, Tyler.” He took a sharp inhale, screwing his eyes shut as he balled his fists, shaking his head.
“I’m tired. I don’t wanna talk.” Opening his eyes, he looked into mine with a plea that coiled around my heart and squeezed.
“I… appreciate you trying, Ty. I know running after me must have you in hot water right now.”
Warmth blossomed over the ice he had left in my chest. I nodded. “S’okay… I can grab a room at Gracie’s and wait him out.”
I didn’t like the prospect of staying at Felcove’s cheap and questionable inn several blocks away, but I wasn’t going to push. Not when Hudson was looking at me like that. Like one wrong word might crack him open.
He had been through enough. Like he said, I tried. Whatever boundaries he was setting, I’d respect them. Even if that meant walking away and taking the other road. I owed him that.
Hudson sucked that pouty bottom lip between his teeth, slumping against the porch bannister and crossing his arms. Suddenly, he reached into his pocket. “Em, can you run back to the bar and grab my truck?” He tossed his keys with an underhand throw.
“On it.” Em snatched them out of the air, giving them a little twirl on his finger. “You gonna be okay here?”
Meeting my eyes, Hudson arched a brow. “Am I gonna be okay here, Tyler?”
Confused and a little frightened, I glanced between both of their expectant stares. “I… think the correct answer is… yes?”
At first, I thought I was meant to go with Em to retrieve the truck. Then he strutted off down the driveway and broke into a superhuman pace, disappearing from sight in a matter of seconds, quite literally running back to the bar. I turned back to Hudson, waiting. Hoping.
Praying to any god that would listen.