“Everyone knows Ben kissed you,” Posy corrected gently. “The running away part is more… implied.”
“Fantastic,” she groaned.
A new voice cut through her despair—bright and cheerful and entirely too energetic for her current mood.
“Did someone say Ben kissed someone? Finally! I’ve been waiting for that male to wake up for years.”
She lifted her head to find a strange female sliding into the booth beside Elara. She was tall and athletic, with pale blue skin and the kind of smile that suggested she found everything in life mildly hilarious.
“Sara, this is Nichola,” Posy said. “She’s a troll and works at her family’s mechanic shop.”
“Nice to meet you.” Nichola’s handshake was strong enough to make Sara wince. “So someone finally cracked the bunny’s shell? It’s about time. That male has been wound tighter than a barnacle on a hull.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, honey.” Nichola exchanged a look with the other women that Sara couldn’t quite decipher. “You really don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?”
“About mating season.”
Her stomach fluttered. “I know it exists. Something about spring?—”
“Spring is when rabbit Others have their mating season.” Nichola grabbed one of the extra margaritas and took a long sip. “It’s biological. It makes them absolutely feral for finding a mate. Most of them spend the whole season either locked intheir houses or locked in someone else’s house, if you catch my meaning.”
She caught her meaning. The memory of that kiss sent a wave of heat flooding through her.
“You mean he can’t control himself?”
“Exactly. Mating season for Others isn’t like human horniness. It’s deeper than that. More primal.” Nichola leaned forward, eyes bright with the particular enthusiasm of someone who loved sharing gossip. “The urge to find a mate, to claim them, to keep them—it’s overwhelming. Some Others get aggressive. Some get obsessive. And rabbit Others?” She whistled low. “They’re the worst. All that fertility energy has to go somewhere.”
Her mind raced back to the way Ben had pinned her against the fence post. The scrape of his teeth on her throat. The growl that had rumbled through his chest when she’d gasped his name.
I’ll want all of you. Every part. Forever.
“Oh God,” she breathed.
“It gets more interesting.” Nichola was clearly enjoying herself now. “Because here’s the thing—mating season doesn’t make you want someone. It just amplifies what’s already there. If a rabbit Other isn’t interested in someone, they could be standing right next to them in the middle of spring and feel nothing.” She paused for dramatic effect. “But if they are interested…”
“The amplification makes it unbearable,” Elara finished quietly. “I’ve seen it break Others who weren’t prepared. The intensity of wanting someone that much, fighting it that hard… it takes a toll.”
Her heart clenched. Three sleepless nights of guitar music. Songs that stopped mid-chord. The shadows under Ben’s eyes when she’d glimpsed him through his kitchen window that morning.
He’s fighting it. I think he’s been fighting it for weeks.
“But here’s the really interesting part.” Nichola had the gleam of someone saving their best piece of gossip for last. “Ben has been in Fairhaven Falls for six years. Six mating seasons. And in all that time, he’s never pursued anyone.”
She blinked. “What?”
“No one. Not once. I should know—I offered myself the second spring he was here.” Nichola shrugged, unbothered. “He turned me down flat. Polite about it, but firm. Said he wasn’t interested in casual anything.”
“Maybe he was just… not attracted to you specifically?”
“Honey, I’m hot.” Nichola gestured at herself with cheerful confidence. “I’ve had plenty of takers. But Ben?” She shook her head. “The man’s been celibate as a monk for six years. Even during mating season. Even when his whole biology was screaming at him to find a mate.”
The information settled into her chest like a stone dropping into still water, sending ripples through everything she thought she knew.Six years.Ben had been alone—truly, deliberately alone—for six years. Not because he couldn’t find anyone, but because he chose not to.
And then she moved in next door, and brought him cookies. And something in him had changed.
