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

I’d lucked out with one of the nicest units in the building, but still, the water heater was always on the fritz—either blisteringly hot or ice cold. My oven smelled like gasoline sometimes. There were stains in the carpet. The walls were yellow. The AC unit only worked twenty-five percent of the time. And every doorway was covered in at least fifty layers of flaky white paint.

And I loved it—every last flaw.

Pine cones and all.

Because it was mine.

That didn’t mean it was perfect though, or the safest place. It was drafty and the walls were thin—and as I startled awake, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was here.

Something was here.

Waiting for me.

Just outside the front door.

As my thoughts filled with memories from the club, I very quietly, sleepily padded toward the front door to soothe my anxiety. Realistically, this was Elmwood. There was bound to be people out and about at this time—it was a fucking given when more than half the population was nocturnal. But still.

There was no way I’d be able to go back to sleep unless I listened to my gut.

The slight twinge in my ass made me grin as I strode down the hallway, happy memories assaulting my senses for once, rather than the bad ones that usually kept me up at night.

Just thinking about my stranger made my blood sing and my pulse thrum.

I should probably be freaking out more about this.

But I wasn’t.

Because for the first time since I’d moved here, I felt like I’d actually be able to get a decent night’s rest.

That was, until I looked through the peephole on my door and realized something really was waiting out there.

There was a dog lying right on my stoop. His ass was plopped down on the welcome mat Blair had bought me as a housewarming gift. His head was on his paws, and his eyes were closed, like he was resting. Like he was…guarding my door.

He was…beautiful. Massive and shaggy, his fur a warm deep brown. I gasped—and that ended up being a mistake, because he woke up immediately. Jerking to his feet, the large creature moved like he was about to make a run for it. I fumbled with the bolt locks, scrambling in a panic.

Before he could leave, I managed to yank the front door open, heart in my throat.

He looked familiar.

He looked so fucking familiar.

“Wait!” My voice was panicked, my mind reeling.

Surprisingly…the dog listened. Halfway down the open hallway, he hesitated, wavering between running away now that he’d been caught and coming back. “Please,” I managed. Once again, shocking me, the dog turned back, padding in close and sitting on my welcome mat with a nervous wag of his tail.

He had these adorable big blue eyes, framed by ridiculously long eyelashes that fluttered with each pitiful blink. The poor thing was soaked to the bone, his massive body squashed down into a small little ball like he was worried he might scare me.

Which was fair.

Because even sitting, his head easily came to my stomach. Maybe even my ribs. Oh, and he looked like a giant fucking wolf. Pointy ears. Long snout. Long fluffy tail.

It hit me all at once why he looked so fucking familiar.

Familiar because I’d met this very fucking dog before. At a gas station…somewhere in Colorado probably? Holy shit. Had he followed me all the way here?

“Oh shit,” I stared at him, honestly flabbergasted. If I’d been less exhausted I probably would’ve seen the similarities sooner, but I was operating on less than one brain cell, and as it was, I was just fucking shocked to see a dog at all, especially one I’d met before. “Hi!”

And then he was diving forward, shoving his face into my crotch with a needy, deliberate sniff.