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

“Projecting much?” Jules teased. The smooth cadence of his voice wafted in from the hallway as he entered the living room from the other end, flipping the page in his book without looking up. A lock of dark hair fell across his brow. He was barely half Butter’s size and his hair was as dark as Butters’s was light. Yin and Yang. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he and Harry were blood-related, they looked so similar. Though Jules was slighter and shorter, and had a lock of white hair right at the front of his hair that made him look like a skunk more often than not.

A skunk that read books.

“Fair,” Butters laughed, holding a hand out for a high-five that Jules returned as he walked past him without looking up.

Butters then turned to Theo, his hand cupping his mouth as he angled his body toward him. “What does “projecting” mean?”

Jules snorted out a laugh, “Why did you high-five me if you didn’t even know what I said?”

“I dunno, seemed like a good diss.”

“Jesus Christ,” Harry pinched the bridge of his nose from where he still stood inside the archway that led to the kitchen and Theo gently patted him on the back in a soothing manner before turning back to Butters.

“When someone unconsciously attributes their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors to another person, they are projecting.”

“I don’t understand half of what you just said,” Butters smiled serenely then turned back to his game. Swipe, swipe, swipe. “But thanks for trying.”

“You’re welcome,” Theo pressed his lips together to hide his smile, shaking his head as he started reviewing his notes.

“I think we should ask for more land,” Harry said, ducking his head so he and Theo were whispering. It was easy enough to catch every word, so there was no need for him to raise his voice. We all had superior hearing. “This isn’t nearly enough for what they’re asking us to pay. Besides, we need room for full moon runs without bumping into each other’s packs.”

“Unless they want to run together?”

“Oh. Well that’s an idea.”

And so it began.

Again.

Yay.

Instead of paying attention like I probably should have while we prepped for visiting the Elmwood Pack, I thought about Jeffrey again. I thought about the precious time I was missing out on. I may not have intended on staying at first, but now that I was stuck, I couldn’t help but dive in headfirst.

We didn’t have much time—and I intended on savoring it as much as I possibly could.

And I wouldn’t let anyone stop me. Not my brothers. Not my duty to the pack. Not the full moon. Nothing.

The party raged around us. Couples pressed against the walls, hidden in seedy corners with their hands down each other’s pants and their tongues tangled. I had hickeys all over my neck, and my red solo cup had been filled four different times—but somehow still was empty.

When I spotted Blair’s fuzzy black head, I relaxed, wandering toward him.

“Yo!” Trevor, our left fielder interrupted me, reaching out and latching onto my shoulder. His hand was sweaty and he smelled like tequila and something fruity—probably the jello shots Becky, his girlfriend had made for the party.

We’d just won the state championship and all of us were on cloud nine. Becky and Martha were friends—Martha being head cheerleader, and my at-the-time girlfriend. Like a sweaty, web, we were all tangled together.

It was all very…exhausting, if I’m being honest.

It was hard enough keeping up the front at home—and out here it got even more difficult. Especially at times like this, when the alcohol was flowing in my veins and I was seventeen with a cross to bear.

“Fuck off,” I managed, words slurred. I tried to shove Trevor off of me, but failed. He just laughed.

“Dude you’re fucked up,” he snorted, like that was funny.

It didn’t feel funny.

None of this did.

“Need…” I wasn’t sure what I needed. I’d forgotten. What had I been about to do? It felt important.