“She’s human,” he said roughly. “She doesn’t know.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“She’s a kindergarten teacher from the city. She probably gives food to everyone.”
“Probably.” Adrian’s tone was skeptical. “But you haven’t thrown it away, have you?”
He thought of the brownies he’d devoured in one sitting. The cookies that hadn’t survived the drive to work. The way his whole body had warmed when he’d seen her careful handwriting on that notecard.
Thank you for shoveling my driveway.
“No,” he admitted. “I haven’t.”
Adrian was quiet for a long moment, watching him with an expression that was almost sympathetic. It was unsettling, coming from a werewolf who spent most of his time making terrible jokes and chasing women.
“You know,” Adrian said finally, “there’s no law that says you have to be alone forever.”
“I’m not alone. I have you idiots.”
“You know what I mean.” Adrian leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Whatever happened with the band, whatever made you walk away from everything—it’s been six years. Maybe it’s time to let yourself want something again.”
“I don’t want anything.”
The lie tasted sour on his tongue.
Adrian clearly didn’t believe him, but he had the grace not to push. Instead, he stood, draining the last of his whiskey in one smooth motion.
“Just think about it,” he said, heading for the door. “And maybe don’t growl at the next customer who asks about the specials. It’s bad for business.”
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Ben alone with his thoughts.
He sat in silence for a long time, turning his empty glass between his fingers. Outside, he could hear the sounds of the tavern—laughter, conversation, the clink of glasses and the thump of music from the old jukebox. His staff. His regulars. The life he’d built from the ashes of the one he’d left behind.
It was enough. It had been enough for six years.
But when he closed his eyes, all he could see was Sara standing at her window, tears on her cheeks, listening to him play.
CHAPTER 6
“Another round?”
Sara pushed her empty glass across the high top table, grinning at Posy. Her cheeks felt pleasantly warm, her limbs loose and relaxed in a way they hadn’t been since she’d moved to Fairhaven Falls.
“Absolutely,” Posy said, flagging down the bartender—a flirtatious werewolf with impressive muscles and a charming smile. “It’s Friday night, we’re celebrating, and you’ve earned it.”
“Celebrating what, exactly?”
“Surviving your first two weeks!” Posy clinked her glass against Sara’s fresh drink. “The kids haven’t eaten you alive, Principal Tricia hasn’t scared you off, and you haven’t frozen to death despite two winter storms. I’d say that calls for tequila.”
She laughed, the sound coming easier than it had in months. The Moonlight Tavern was everything she’d hoped for and more—warm golden lighting, rustic wooden walls, mismatched furniture that somehow worked together, and a crowd that ranged from humans to Others of every variety. A classic rockplaylist she vaguely recognized from her college years played at a volume that allowed for conversation, and the air was filled with the delicious scents of fried food and beer.
“Besides,” Posy added, her eyes twinkling, “you need to get out. You’ve been holed up in that cottage every night, and I know you’re not just making lesson plans.”
“I have been making lesson plans.”
“And pining.”
“I don’t pine.”
