21. Chapter Twenty-One
Elodie finishes her last specimen with careful little movements. She sets the pinning board aside, reaches over, and switches off the music. The lab falls into an amiable lull. She starts packing her things away with that familiar focused efficiency I have come to recognize.
She has grown a little shy again. When I ask if she is ready to head out, she answers with small nods rather than words. Her cheeks have the faintest pink to them, and she avoids meeting my eyes for more than a second or two at a time.
I wait patiently at the door, giving her space.
I watch her in the dimming light as she moves around the lab one last time, turning off the desk lamp, checking that the drawers are properly closed, making sure everything is exactly as it should be.
There’s something peaceful about seeing her like this, in her element, surrounded by the tiny lives she cares for so deeply.
As she finally walks toward me and locks the lab door behind her, I feel a shift between us. Something softer, real.
We meander out of the building together in comfortable silence. The night air is cool against my skin after the still of the lab. Elodie walks beside me, her steps light and measured, the faint scent of her still clinging to the air between us.
I glance over at her. “Can I walk you back to your dorm?”
She hesitates for only a second, then nods. “OK.”
Her voice is hushed. I can tell she’s telling herself she’s only allowing this because it’s dark outside. I don’t mind, I’ll take whatever reason she gives me.
We walk side by side along the path. The campus lights cast long shadows across the grass. After a few moments I speak again, keeping my tone pleasant.
“I liked working with you tonight,” I tell her. “It was really nice just sitting there while you did your thing.”
Elodie smiles a little, almost shy. “It was nice,” she admits.
I feel the words burrow affectionately into my chest.
There’s so much more I want to say. I want to tell her how my pack could make her life easier.
How we would support her studies, protect her time, give her a safe place to come home to.
How we would never ask her to choose between us and the bugs she loves so much.
But I hold every word back. I don’t want to scare her, not after everything she has already been through yesterday and today.
So I stay quiet and walk beside her, letting the comfortable silence stretch between us again.
When we reach her dorm building, Elodie slows to a stop on the path. She turns toward me, the glow of the entrance light catching in her strawberry blonde hair.
“Thank you,” she says. “For hanging out with me tonight. It was nice.”
Her voice is a little shy. I feel every word land deep in my chest.
I lift my hand tentatively, giving her plenty of time to step away if she wants. She doesn’t.
My palm cups her cheek with the gentlest touch, my thumb brushing lightly over her freckled skin. I lean down and press a soft kiss to her forehead.
The moment stretches, tense and intimate. I breathe her in, that bright peachy scent that has lived in my lungs since the first time I met her. She leans into the kiss, just barely, her eyes fluttering closed for one heartbeat.
Then she steps back.
“Bye,” she whispers, the word choked and shaky. She gives me a little wave and turns toward the door.
I stand there on the path for several long minutes after she disappears inside. The locked door clicks shut behind her, and I’m grateful for it. Grateful because the urge to follow her is so strong it scares me. I’m not sure if I went too far with the kiss, but I’m also grateful I did it.
It takes me longer than I want to admit before I finally turn and walk back to my car. Every step away from her building feels heavier than the last.
I push open the door to our room and step inside. The space is empty.
Sophie’s not at her desk. Her bed is neatly made, and the usual scatter of sociology textbooks and colorful highlighters are all tidily put away on the shelves. The room feels quieter than usual, the kind of quiet that settles after a long day when you finally have it all to yourself.
A small note sits on my pillow, written in Sophie’s familiar looping handwriting.
Went out to a party at the Sigma house. Don’t wait up, but call me if you want to come join! Love you.
I read it twice, then set the note back down. A wave of relief washes over me. I don’t have to explain anything tonight. I don’t have to relive the lab or the walk back or the way Jamie’s lips felt against my forehead. I can just have the room to myself and some peace.
I let out a long breath and sink onto the edge of my bed. For the first time since I left the lab, my shoulders loosen.
The quiet feels like a gift.
Noodle scratches at the window a few minutes later.
I cross the room and slide it open just enough for her to slip inside. She lands lightly on the floor and immediately winds around my ankles, purring her hello. I reach down and stroke her soft gray fur, grateful for the familiar comfort.
Jamie’s scent is still all over me.
It clings to my cardigan, my hair, the skin of my forehead where his lips touched.
Warm golden amber and vanilla and that bright citrus peel.
It wraps around me like a second skin and drives me wild.
My instincts scream at me to turn around, run back outside, and chase him down the path before he reaches his car.
The urge is so strong my feet actually shift toward the door for one terrifying second.
I force myself to the bed instead.
I plop down onto the mattress and Noodle jumps up after me. She curls into my lap, purring louder, and flops onto her back for tummy rubs. I laugh despite everything and give her what she wants, my fingers stroking the velvety white fur of her belly.
“You must think I’m going crazy,” I whisper to her. “But it’s far too easy to lean into things around these alphas.”
The words feel ridiculous spoken out loud to a cat, but they are true.
I keep rubbing her tummy and let my mind wander back to Sophie. I wonder again why she’s been pushing me toward the pack so hard. She doesn’t understand. She wants that life… she wants the safety and the connection and everything that comes with it.
But I don’t.
At least I keep telling myself I don’t.
I sit there for a long minute, stroking Noodle’s tummy while her purr vibrates against my palm.
The room is silent except for that even sound, but my thoughts refuse to stay still.
They keep circling back to Jamie’s forehead kiss, to the way his scent still clings to my skin, to the study date with Adrian tomorrow.
I don’t want to sit alone with my thoughts again.
I’m in university. This is supposed to be the time for new experiences, even the ones that make me nervous. I’ve never really been the girl who goes to parties, but maybe tonight I should try. Maybe letting loose for one evening is exactly what I need to ease the restless ache in my chest.
I grab my phone from the nightstand and dial Sophie before I can overthink it. The line rings for a while. I almost hang up when she finally answers, her voice pitched high and a little breathless over the background noise.
“Elodie!” she says excitedly. “You called!”
I smile despite myself. “Yeah. Where are you right now? Would you mind some company?”
Sophie lets out a happy squeal. “I’m at the Sigma house party. I only got here a little while ago. Come meet me! I will text you the exact address. You are going to have so much fun, I promise.”
I laugh tenderly at her enthusiasm. “OK. I’ll see you soon.”
I end the call and stare at my phone for a second.
I am really doing this.
I feed Noodle quickly, then stand in front of my closet. I have almost nothing that qualifies as party clothes, so I text Sophie asking if I can borrow something. Her reply is instant.
YES. The baby blue slinky dress in my closet would look amazing on you. Take whatever you want!
I pull the dress out and eye it warily. It’s shorter and tighter than anything I would normally wear.
I slip it on anyway. No bra works with the cut, so I throw caution to the wind and go without.
I add a little makeup, throw on a jacket and boots, crack the window open a little more for Noodle, and head out into the night.
The party is waiting.
And for once, I’m not going to overthink it.