Hunt Me! I Crave the Chase (Spooky Boys #3)

Fuck.

I was so tired of hiding.

And I just…I wanted my brother back. Maybe I’d never truly had him at all. Because I’d been a liar from the start—but I wanted to try. I wanted to give us a fighting chance to be what we should be. Maybe without the trauma-based codependency—as that hadn’t served either of us.

I knew that now.

I’d craved it when I first moved here.

I’d resented Richard and Collin in a way because it had felt like they’d replaced me.

But…that was a good thing. I realized that now. Blair needed support just like I did, and he’d found that. After he’d overheard my angst-riddled freak out he’d been softer somehow. It was weird. Before he’d looked at me like I was going to break. Like I was fragile. Like I was two seconds from blowing myself up.

But that had relaxed.

And fuuuuck.

Okay.

That meant my therapist was right.

The truth really had helped.

“I have a boyfriend,” I said, awkwardly.

“Yeah, I know,” Blair snorted. He slurped at his drink again.

“And that’s not…weird to you?”

“Weird why?” He frowned at me as he pushed his cup back into the cupholder and both his hands tapped at the steering wheel. Taylor Swift was blasting, and we were vibing to the beat, Blair’s black chipped nail polish flashing.

“You know because he’s like…a dude.”

Blair looked at me like I was stupid, which I suppose was fair. And then, like he was talking to a toddler he very slowly said, “You are aware that I’m gay, right?”

I glared at him, because he was being an asshole, then soldiered onward, not dignifying that with a response. I’d been the one that fucking brought him to his first gay bar, of course I fucking knew. “He’s a dude. And a werewolf.”

“And I’m dating a vampire.” Blair cocked his brow at me pointedly. “What’s your point?”

“Touche.” I relaxed a little, and Blair did too—almost like we were telepathically connected like freaky circus twins. At an impasse, we both remained quiet for a solid five seconds before I broke again. “So.”

“So,” Blair echoed.

“Boys?”

“Boys.” Blair snorted, shaking his shaggy mane like I was being an idiot. Which I guess I was? So I laughed too.

Just ask him.

Rip off the Band-Aid.

“How do you like…woo a dude?” I asked, cheeks flushed. “I mean. With girls I always just told them their hair was pretty, and like…listened to what they said and repeated it back to them.” This was such a weird parallel. We’d had a conversation so similar to this, not all that long ago, only it had been Blair asking me for advice, and not the other way around.

It was a testament to how much I’d changed that I could ask for help at all.

“Woah.” Blair twisted to look at me. “Asshole much?”

I grimaced. “I didn’t—I mean. Fuck. You’re right.” Damn. I hadn’t really thought of it that way. My cheeks flushed with humiliation I definitely deserved. “I just.”