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

To approach, to taste that smell up close.

To sate the itch beneath my skin and the ache in my very bones.

But that had only been the beginning.

Then, just like now, I hadn’t thought through my actions. Hadn’t thought ahead to what obstacles might fall along my path. Planning was not my forte.

Case in point.

I was locked inside Jeffrey’s truck in the middle of a busy parking lot full of humans. The tall building that rose high above casted shadows, and the brisk fall chill made the temperature inside the vehicle rather pleasant. Being left behind shouldn’t have been a big deal.

It wouldn’t have been.

Except for the fact that the building I was currently stuck outside of was apparently a head doctor. I wasn’t sure what it was called. I’d heard a few whispers from other occupants of the building, something about therapy—a new word for me—or psycho-lo-gi-sists. Something like that.

I hadn’t been alarmed at first, because I hadn’t known what any of those words were.

I hadn’t been alarmed till I heard Jeffrey greet a woman he called “Doctor Mason” and suddenly realized I was privy to a conversation that I should not be hearing. I couldn’t see him. Obviously. Super hearing did not mean I could see through concrete. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t block out his voice coming from a cracked window on the second floor. Couldn’t shift and force the door open either—not with so many humans present.

I was stuck.

I was stuck.

And I could only blame myself.

“How are you this week, Jeffrey?” an unfamiliar woman’s voice asked.

“Fine,” Jeffrey replied immediately. I heard the skip in his heartbeat though, and I was suddenly sick with the need to comfort him. To lap at his fingers the way I had the previous night when he’d had a nightmare.

“How are you really?” The woman, “Doctor Mason” probably, asked.

“I…” Jeffrey’s heart thumped unsteadily for a moment, betraying his nerves. “I’m…okay. Better. Kind of?”

“What’s caused the change?” she asked, her voice light and soft. The kinda voice that reminded me of cinnamon rolls and women who smelled like happy-mother-calm. Like my own mother.

“I found a dog?” Jeffrey answered, then laughed. “I mean… More accurately, he found me.”

“Good for you, having a pet is a lot of responsibility,” she hummed, and she truly sounded like she meant it. “I remember you mentioning last session that you never had a pet growing up.”

“Lydia doesn’t—didn’t like animals,” Jeffrey agreed and his tone was sad-sad. “She said they were messy.” Who is Lydia?

“This must be exciting for you,” she asked, voice still gentle. “That you have something you’ve always wanted? Something you were denied. How does it make you feel?”

“Good…I think?” I hated how nervous Jeffrey sounded, like he wasn’t quite sure what words to use. It was different from the way he talked to me. Different from the way he’d talked to the short one who smelled like apples. Because obviously, I’d been eavesdropping after I left him at the vet’s office, trying to make sure he was okay.

The short-apple-one had said, “You know I don’t blame you, right?”

He’d said, “You deserve to be happy.”

He’d said, “It’s time to move on.”

And Jeffrey had agreed but his scent was sour, sour, sour, and his heart was full of lies.

There were no lies in his words now. Not when he was talking to this doctor person. Like she’d gotten beneath his shell and to the doughy soft bits inside.

I didn’t know why Jeffrey felt he didn’t deserve happiness.

Didn’t know why he smelled like guilt-love-protect when he was with the short-apple-one.