She disappeared back into the kitchen while humming a holiday song. Something lodged inside of Keena unexpectedly.
Keep around.
Her wolf paused its pacing, happy that Brice wanted them around.
“I’m going to put on some music. It’s too quiet in here,” Brice said. Seconds later, rich soulful voices drifted through the apartment. Old school Christmas music came on. Smooth harmonies filled the air and Keena closed her eyes briefly.
Her mother used to play this same song while decorating the tree. Her mother was a big fan of 1970’s music and when it was the holiday time, she’d blast the Christmas songs while singing along with it. Her father would join in singing off key just to make her mother laugh.
Keena hadn’t thought about those days in years. Not because she’d forgotten, but because it hurt to remember.
The song settled into thebackground as the fire crackled. She stood and stared into the growing flames. She basked in the sound of the music while remembering how her parents would even dance with each other while she laughed and watched them. Her father would then move from her mother and lift Keena up and dance with her too.
She blinked back unexpected tears.
“Where’s the bathroom?” Keena blurted out. Brice was moving swiftly in the kitchen. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee hit her. She didn’t know if she truly needed to relieve herself or if she just needed an escape. Probably the latter.
“Through the bedroom,” Brice said.
Keena’s wolf immediately perked up.
“Behave,” Keena muttered. She ran a hand along her face at the way her animal was acting.
“What?” Brice said.
“Nothing.”
“I’m starting to think you talk to yourself a lot,” Brice giggled. She moved over to the cabinets and opened them. She pulled out a couple of large mugs.
“You have no idea.” She followed the short hallway toward the bedroom. The door stood partially open. She caught herself looking inside before she could stop herself. The room was simple and comfortable. A deep red and cream quilt coveredthe bed and a stack of books rested on the nightstand beside a small reading lamp. A pair of glasses sat atop one of the open novels. The room was nothing extravagant, but it was peaceful.
Keena slipped inside and tried not to look around too much. If felt too intimate seeing where Brice slept. She went into the adjoining bathroom and quickly locked the door behind her.
The silence hit her immediately.
She braced both hands on the sink and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her brown cheeks were flushed slightly. Her lips still looked slightly swollen from kissing Brice.
The memory slammed into her without warning.
Soft supple lips. Warm breath. A hint of sweetness from whatever Brice had eaten. The tiny sounds Brice had made when she kissed her back.
Keena squeezed her eyes shut.
“What are you doing?” she muttered.
Mine.
“No.” Keena shook her head. She opened her eyes and stared at herself as if she were looking directly at her wolf. “You don’t get to decide.”
The wolf’s growl was impatient. Keena turned on the cold water and washed her hands.
It didn’t help.
If anything it made her more aware of her surroundings.
Everything in the room carried Brice’s scent—from the shampoo sitting on the shelf along the wall, to the lotion that sat on the counter, her soap in the shower, and even the fluffy towel that hung neatly beside the sink—they all smelled of Brice.
It surrounded Keena from every direction.
