Chapter 6
SIX
“You two just had to grow up to be bigger than me,” I mutter to myself as we come upon the door of our apartment. Brodie leans into me from one side while DJ is clutching onto my other arm for dear life.
“Well, muscle up, buttercup,” the latter says, laughing before he makes an abrupt hiccuping noise.
“Gosh, you’d think from all the times I’ve dragged you two home that I would have enough muscle to keep doing it.”
DJ gives me a dazed smile, happy and content as his pumpkin eggnog scent pours out. It’s doused in sunshine and illuminates the air around us; it also causes me to huff out in frustration because I can never stay mad at him.
I mean, look at his stupid face. How can I be angry with it?
My hands work overtime as I try to get the key from my pocket. It’s a lot of rearranging, preventing the guys from falling over, and juggling the keys all at the same time. When I finally get the door unlocked, I feel like I’ve run a marathon.
“You fuckers,” I mutter again, not fully sober myself. “All because you were cocky and thought you’d win another game of beer pong.”
Our apartment is my sanctuary. When the candles and trinkets and other things that make it feel like a home come into view, I inhale my first breath of fresh air all night. DJ moves out of my arms as I close the door and lock it, kicking his shoes off as he moves on a mission.
And that mission, apparently, is sleeping.
DJ gets to the couch and slumps over, his arm dangling off the side.
“You don’t want to sleep in your room?”
He doesn’t get to answer, because there’s a soft snore coming from his lips. I let out a quiet chuckle.
“Enough said.”
Brodie isn’t usually this quiet after a night out, but he stays mute by my side, no amusement or even awareness coming from him.
“Let’s get you to bed,” I tell him, which finally rewards me a tiny smile.
Brodie is the biggest of our trio so getting him to his room is a hassle, but once he is falling onto his comforter, I sigh with relief. Brodie’s brown hair is sticking up in every direction, and his eyes look distant as he stares down at the floor.
Gosh, I hope he doesn’t throw up.
With that thought, I walk into his bathroom and grab the bin. Hopefully with this beside him, I don’t have to worry about him throwing up on the carpet.
I set it down beside him and turn to leave the room, halting when Brodie slurs out the first words he’s said since we left the party.
“I almost met my scent match tonight.”
My eyes bulge as my head whips back to him. “You what?”
“I smelled my scent match,” he repeats, his eyes heavy as he looks up at me.
Something free falls into the pit of my stomach. “What… what do you mean?”
“At the—” He hiccups, then rubs a hand over his mouth. “At the party.”
My chest beats wildly as his confession takes root, my mind processing the drunken words carefully. “Are you sure?”
He moves his head around, but I can’t tell if he’s nodding. He looks more like an oval formation than anything, his head going around and around. The movement must make him sick because he stops, his hand going to his mouth again. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Brodie, focus,” I say, getting on my knees in front of him. “When did you smell them?”
His green eyes meet mine, but they still look so distant and disconnected. “Before beer pong. I… couldn’t find them after.”
“So you got drunk,” I think out loud, watching my friend in his sad and drunken state.
This time when he nods, it’s obvious, the movement slow and precise, showing just how much this is bothering him.
I try to wrack my brain for any memory from the party that will allude to what he’s talking about. Did he say anything? Did I miss something?
“Did you get a glimpse of them?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I saw someone… well, two someones.” He reaches up two fingers, like he has to show me just as much as tell me. “But I don’t know if they were who I was smelling.”
“But your instincts said they were?”
He huffs out a breath, his eyes starting to close even as he stays upright.
Maybe this isn’t the right time for this conversation. Brodie is drunk and probably wouldn’t have given me this information sober, so I stop prying. Even though it’s literally all I want to do.
Brodie and I may be in a pack, but if he found his scent match, I would be ecstatic for him, even if they weren’t meant for me or DJ as well.
“Get some sleep,” I tell him, resting my hand on his shoulder. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.”
Although, I’m not sure if we will. Something tells me that he’s not going to remember telling me at all.