Chapter 28
JULIET
“Are you sure I can have these? They look like antiques.” I stare into the shoebox full of lace scraps Hester set in my lap.
She waves me off while sipping her tea, a spearmint-heavy mix tonight she claimed was for clear thoughts.
We’ve made tea on Thursday while the sun sets a habit.
I’ve found I enjoy these evenings with my neighbor, exchanging town gossip and random stories from our pasts.
Neither one of us has laid out a chronological history of our lives, and therefore, we can easily skirt around dark memories we don’t want to share.
But now I know Hester is a lawyer in Pine Falls, she’s always lived on her own, she has a condo in Denver for when she wants a reminder of city life.
But she always comes back to the mountains.
And apparently, she weaves lace.
“I’m sure. Those were all trial and errors. A waste to toss them, but I have no use for them either. You can use what you want for your cards.” She smirks. “Make me a thank-you one.”
I chuckle, then sit up straighter at the sound of an approaching motorcycle.
But this time, there’s no fear or shock. I know who is on his way to get me.
“Thanks so much for the tea. I hope you don’t mind that I have to head out.” I throw a thumb toward the front of her house, where we can hear the bike passing.
“No. You go.” Her smile remains mysteriously teasing. “I have some plans of my own.”
As I walk home, I ponder what exactly Hester might be doing on a Thursday night, but then set those thoughts aside as I spy Thad dismounting from his bike.
Instead of calling out his name, I simply give a few big waves with my free arm as I jog toward my house, my other busy cradling the box of lace scraps clutched to my chest.
Thad turns and grins. “Hey. You ready to go?”
“One minute,” I sign, slipping through my front door to put away my gift and grab my jacket and purse.
Back outside, Thad gestures between his bike and my car, indicating he’s good with either. I hesitate, then straighten my spine and make a decision.
I point to his bike.
If I’m ever going to get over the fears carved into me by my ex, this is a good place to start.
Thad grins and hands me a helmet.
“Dinner at The Wild Rabbit still good?” he asks while we can still see each other’s hands.
I’m about to sign yes when our phones vibrate simultaneously.
Thad quirks a brow, and when I slip mine out of my purse, I realize Courtney has texted on a group thread to both of us.
Courtney: You need to come to The Rabbit Hole.
Courtney: There is a once-in-a-lifetime view.
Courtney: THAD, brING JULIET. No excuses!
We meet eyes, both of us puzzled.
“Do you want to go?” he asks, hesitation in his voice as he speaks the question. I know why.
The Rabbit Hole is the pack’s bar. The last place I’d normally choose to go.
But now that fact bothers me.
Thad would be there. So would Courtney.
I trust them.
As if sensing my wavering, Courtney texts again.
Courtney: Zoey is here. And I’ll buy your first five shots.
That has me choking on a laugh.
“I’m not drinking five shots.” I offer Thad a tentative smile. “Let’s go.”
He beams and helps me onto his bike.
There’s a strange, small part of me that feels guilty Thad’s bike is the one I’m climbing onto. That piece of me that has occasionally fantasized about slipping behind Roderick whenever I spy him astride his Harley.
But I give my brain a firm scolding. Roderick and I can never be a thing.
I was pissed that the alpha showed up at my work after I expressly forbid it. My past was full of times when Cory decided to bulldoze my boundaries, as if I wasn’t allowed anything not controlled by him.
Now my anger has faded, but not my certainty that we couldn’t work.
I never should have let myself kiss him.
Kiss him? You did a lot more than that.
Even though I still remember the moment on my kitchen floor with pleasurable tingles all throughout my body, at least I have enough self-control to not go chasing after an unhealthy relationship.
Better that I stick to the single life and enjoy the friends I’ve made.
I grip Thad tight and embrace the racing-heart sensation of flying down the road with only two wheels under me.
I can tell the wolf is driving slower than he normally would, but it still feels like we’re rocketing, and in no time, we reach the aged building with its neon sign buzzing bright in twilight.
The Rabbit Hole.
Thad gives me a moment to study the place, pretending to check over his bike. There’s a line of them outside, but I also spy a yellow truck I’ve seen Courtney in around town, which helps strengthen my resolve.
“Ready?” Thad asks, brows raised.
I nod, but wave for him to go ahead of me.
The moment the door swings open, I hear music and voices and laughter. The place is busy, but not packed, and no one freezes to stare at the human newcomer like prey stepping into a predator’s den.
People in leather wave at Thad or clap a hand on his shoulder in greeting as we walk toward the bar. All the while, I scan the place, seeking out this once-in-a-lifetime view Courtney promised.
As if summoned by my thoughts, my friend appears at my side with an excited yelp. “Hell yeah! You’re here!” She grasps my shoulders and turns me to face a table in the back corner. “And there, my lovely librarian, is what I promised.”
I spot Roderick right away, mainly because his shoulders are massive, and his head is the only one here with such a short cut. He’s not looking at me, chin tilted downward as he glares at his hands.
Hands that are …
“Is he …” I trail off, not sure of what I’m seeing, but fearing that all my hard-won self-control is going to crumble when I get the answer.
“Your eyes do not deceive you,” Courtney crows, tone giddy. “Our illustrious, grumpy alpha is crocheting.”