By the time we closed up Wolf and Whisk, my limbs felt like overcooked noodles. Rowan had already taken off his apron and flung it over the counter.
"Drinks?" he asked, cocking a brow at the rest of us.
Friday night tradition. We always went out for a drink or two, sometimes more, after the last shift of the week.
Usually, I was the first one to yell yes, already halfway to the door before anyone else made up their mind. But tonight…
I imagined it. Walking into the usual bar. Ordering something strong and pretending the buzz in my chest was excitement, not disappointment.
I’d find a guy. I always did. Some guy with nice hands and a quick laugh. We’d flirt. He’d lean in close. I’d pretend to feel something.
And later, when things got physical, I’d imagine someone else.
I’d imagine Rafael. I’d think about his hands, his growl, the way his eyes softened when he looked at the people he cared about.
It wasn’t like the guy of the night would care. My hook-ups never cared about connection or romance; they just wanted release.
But every time I gave in, it left me feeling hollow, like I’d carved out pieces of myself for nothing. The pleasure was fleeting. The emptiness lingered.
"Nah," I said, forcing a grin. "Another time. I’m beat."
Rowan and Cyrus exchanged a look but didn’t push. Rowan tossed me a mock salute. "Suit yourself, Mr. Responsible."
They took off together, bickering over who owed who drinks from last week. That left just me and Callum, wiping down the last counters and putting the chairs up.
Callum glanced over, his quiet presence more reassuring than intrusive.
"You know, if there’s something going on, you can always talk to me, James. I’m a decent listener,” Callum said. His tone was gentle. Not an alpha's order, just an offer.
I nodded, meaning it. "Thanks. I’m just tired. Long day."
He didn’t press, just gave me a small nod and finished up in silence. We locked up, and I headed to my truck, already half-dreaming of my bed.
Maybe I’d order a pizza, catch up on the new K-drama I’d been meaning to watch. Put my feet up, zone out, try not to think about…well, anything.
It sounded lonely, I realized. But a part of me liked the quiet. At least, that’s what I told myself. Company would’ve been nice, though. Rafael’s company, especially.
But that was wishful thinking. The guy clearly didn’t want anything to do with me beyond the occasional grumble and glare.
Still, I couldn’t help the way my thoughts drifted toward him.
I made it to my apartment building, shoulders heavy. I was halfway up the stairs to my floor when I saw it. An envelope. Thick, cream-colored, tucked neatly under my door. I froze.
It wasn’t the kind of envelope you got a coupon or pizza flyer in. This one was thick, stiff, almost expensive-looking.
The paper had weight, like it was meant to say this matters, and not in a good way.
There was no name, no return address, just my first name scrawled across the front in that sharp, familiar handwriting that made my stomach twist.
My breath caught. A cold flush rolled down the back of my neck. I looked around the hallway. Empty. Too quiet.
The overhead light flickered once, then steadied again. Still, something wasn’t right. The silence buzzed in my ears.
My wolf stirred beneath my skin, shifting uneasily. He didn’t growl, but he didn’t relax either. His instincts pressed against mine, low and warning. We were being watched.
I forced my body to move, snatched the envelope off the floor. My fingers trembled. Then I turned toward my apartment door, glancing over my shoulder one last time.
No one was there, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had just ducked out of sight. Like I’d missed them by seconds.
