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As I drove back to the cabin, giving Eli one of the furnished guest rooms August and I hadn’t touched. I didn’t love having him in our space, and he smelled wrong, just like Brynn had, but the intensity of that seemed to have faded with heat’s end.
And as I collected all of the blankets and pillows that smelled like him, dragging them into my room and building a nest for myself.
When I fell asleep that night, I felt more at peace than I had since I woke up alone in our bed.
Vi and Randa drove over the next afternoon.
They were both hungover, and confused about why I’d left.
I made pancakes and smoothies for them while I explained.
“I know it’s weird, but I feel like this is where I belong.”
They exchanged looks that said they thought I was crazy.
I was crazy.
So, there was no way around that.
“Plus, he put it in my name. It’s paid off. I only have to pay for utilities,” I added.
They understood that one more.
Money was simpler than fate.
“Why did he do that?” Randa asked, her expression something between perplexed and suspicious.
“Because we were a team,” I said simply. “The bond didn’t seal, but that doesn’t erase the feelings we have for each other. When he’s back in town, he’ll come here.”
“Then why did he leave in the first place?”
That, I couldn’t explain to them.
“Dragon stuff. He would’ve stayed if he could,” I said.
It wasn’t really a lie.
“You know this is insane, right?” Vi asked. “Like, verifiably insane. Check you into a mental facility, insane.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ve been living here for a month. Why is it insane that I feel comfortable here? Or that I have feelings for a guy who treated me really, really well?”
“Because you’re not mates. And to supernaturals, that means you’re absolutely nothing. Right?” Vi looked at Eli, who was on his phone at the table, sitting behind them.
“Hmm?” He lifted his gaze absentmindedly.
He was probably playing a game or something.
“How many supernaturals are romantic with people they’re not mated to?” she demanded.
“Oh. Uh, none. Not that I know of.” He looked down at his phone again.
I fought the urge to throw something at him.
Something hard.
Or a pancake, since that was nearby.
Yeah, dropping a syrupy pancake on his head would be extremely satisfying.
