After that last incident, where I almost died in Lake Galen, I’m not going to immediately trust this cure. Especially not when it came from a hunter—even if Luke claims he’s not a danger to us.
But I’m also not going to spend days worrying and waiting for my wound to reopen. Right now, I feel fantastic, and I want to take advantage of this control I have over my body once more.
In Griffith’s house, Shrimp lumbers over to a massive, cushy dog bed that appeared for him a few days after we moved in—my werewolf had done his best to pretend he didn’t love my dog at first, but I could tell my pup won him over almost immediately. With a sigh, Shrimp collapses his big body onto the padding, settling in for his evening nap.
Happy knowing that he’s content, I jog upstairs. My speedy forward progress is stalled by the empty tub. I turn on the waterfull blast, wishing I didn’t have to wait for the massive tub to fill. But if this is my biggest problem tonight, I’ll happily deal with it.
“Eager?”
The gruff voice comes over my shoulder, and I turn to find I’ve been stalked by a werewolf.
Griffith leans on the bathroom doorway, posture deceptively casual with his arms crossed over his broad chest.
“Since you put me in sex jail? Yeah, I would say I’m a little excited to be free.”
His eyes darken in a lovely way when I saysex. But he stays just outside the bathroom.
“Before I get in that tub with you, I want to make sure you haven’t changed your mind.”
“About the bath? I definitely haven’t.” I wave toward the water I turned on as high as I could.
“About staying. In Folk Haven. With me.”
“Oh.”
I try to imagine leaving. Packing up my things, loading Shrimp into my car, and driving to Nashville or another town I’ve never stepped foot in before. Even the thought has my body tensing with denial. I don’t want to keep moving. Keep running. I want to settle into a place that can become a home. I want to haunt a stool at Local Brew. I want to keep an eye on my brother.
But more than anything, I want to wake up every day in the arms of the man I love. “No, I haven’t changed my mind.”
He nods, but he continues to keep his distance. “Why?”
“Why haven’t I changed my mind?”
“Why do you want to stay here?”
“Are you trying to talk me out of it?”
“No. I just … need to know.”
His words hold weight, and I give them the consideration he obviously needs. Settling on the edge of the tub, I work to summarize my feelings.
“When I left, after I graduated, it was because I felt stuck. Not physically. More emotionally.” I hold my hands out in front of me, as if cradling all my insecurities. “I couldn’t figure out how to be a different person. Or at least a better version of myself. I kept fucking everything up. Hurting myself. Hurting Carl. So, I left.” My hands drop, rubbing my thighs to dispel my memories of that frantic need to flee. “And I always figured that if I came back here, I would revert to the angry teenager I used to be.” My fingers tangle together, but I don’t stop. “Then Ihadto come here. And I’m not perfect. Far from it. But I’m also not changing into a brat.” I smirk. “Though you may beg to differ.”
Griffith finally approaches me, dropping to his knees and rubbing his palms on my thighs, mirroring my previous motion. “You’re saying you don’t hate it here anymore?”
“I never hated it here. I hated who I was here. But I’ve spent years working on myself. To feel more stable. And now I can separate this town from the trauma of my childhood. Can see all the beauty of this place.” I reach up and twist a lock of his hair around my finger. “Can see why people love it.” The hair slides free of my grasp, and I move on to tracing his lower lip with my thumb. “Now I want to stay because I think this place can feel like home.”
Griffith groans as he gathers me into a hug that is engulfing yet still gentle enough not to jostle my side.
“That’s all I want,” he whispers against my neck. “For you to stay here because you could love it.”
“And because I could love you?”
“That too.”
Griffith cups my face in his hands and kisses me tenderly. But I’m hungry for more. I break away from him so I can strip my shirt off in one smooth move. I reach for his next, and he lets me.
We hold each other, chest to chest, his warmth soaking deep into my bones. My teeth sharpen in anticipation, and when I kiss Griffith, he runs his tongue over one of the points.
