I don’t have any reason to have this stone weight in my gut.
Yet it’s been there since Ivan said he was asking Maeve out.
I shouldn’t have this feeling. There’s no rational reason for it.
But after my shift, I didn’t want to go home to that big, empty house.
Stella and Trooper will be fine without me for a few hours.
I want to get thoughts ofherout of my mind.
Maeve, with her sweet demeanor, chamomile scent, and pretty purple hair.
I need sights and sounds to distract me from the awful, unwarranted envy I have toward Ivan.
I’m happy for him.
I’m happy for him.
I have no claim on Maeve, nor should I.
I barely know her. She’s not interested.
Even if she were interested…
What could I offer her?
The fries are tasteless as I dive into the articles, drowning out the buzzing background noise of the little gastropub as I read.
Once I get this…sensationout of my body, I’ll be fine.
Even her scent is my favorite kind of drink, and I’m worried I’m having olfactory hallucinations.
To my knowledge, the place doesn’t serve any type of tea, yet I’m convinced I catch a whiff of the earthy, sweet grounding scent every few minutes.
Maybe coming here was a mistake.
Maybe—
“Hey, Logan?”
Now I’m having auditory hallucinations.
That sweet voice is entirely too familiar.
But I look up from my papers and I blink, unsure of what I’m seeing.
Maeve stands in front of me, a playful look in her warm eyes, tilting her head slightly in confusion.
Beautiful,I think.
In the restaurant lighting, her skin glows, and my mouth falls open slightly.
Her mating gland peeks out of the collar of her black shirt, and I force myself not to stare at it.
But saliva pools in my mouth, and I can’t help the thought of sinking my teeth into her and claiming her right here.
Mine.
