It’s strange that he’s continued to use his credit card when it’s obvious he’s on the run but part of me thinks this stop is different.
I was able to swap out readers at the first stop he made, overlaying my own device over top of the one at the pump so I could track his activity for as long as he used the card. It’s worked well, exactly the way it was supposed to, but a new burner phone and longer pit stop has my gut telling me I need to step up my game.
So, I put away my camera and start my car, casually driving across the street before pulling into the line of pumps before occupying one a couple over from the blue and white monstrosity. I reach into the glove box for my wallet and a tiny little bug, one I know he won’t find until it’s far too late, then exit my generic Honda.
I scan the other vehicles as I move between the pumps, making sure we still haven’t been followed and I’m not actively being watched, and when I’m just about to walk past his truck, I accidentally drop my wallet. Quickly bending to pick up the vegan leather bifold, I rush to stick the tracker under the bed a few inches behind the rear driver’s side tire then carry on about my business right as Dimitri walks out.
He holds the door open as I approach, ever the gentleman, despite the permanent scowl on his face, and it is everything I can do not to do more than nod my thanks as I walk by.
The bastard smells like butterscotch.
Butterscotch bourbon to be exact, and knowing that’s his natural scent has my goddamn mouth watering.
How do I know that shit is clinging to his skin and not saturating his breath? I don’t, not really or in some traditional sense, it’s just another of the many gut feelings I’ve had about this alpha since setting eyes on him the first time. And while the desire to fuck him came racing to the forefront of my thoughtsbecause of the way he smells, I can confirm there is a hell of a lot more to my interest in him than that.
Especially when I turn down the first aisle along the window and catch Dimitri staring at me through the thick, filmy glass.
I do believe hunting for this bounty just got a hell of a lot more interesting and I, for one, am fucking thrilled.
CHAPTER 5
LIV
HOT IN HERRE - NELLY
Deciding to stay at this campground for more than just one night is starting to feel like a bad idea.
It was my idea, so I have no one to blame for it but myself and even though I stand by my reasoning, I am most definitely beginning to regret it.
I’ve been peeking through the crack between the accordion door and the bedroom wall off and on for the last twenty minutes. I’m seconds away from peeing my goddamn pants because Niko is sound asleep, twisted into a pretzel, and in nothing but his underwear while blocking my path to the bathroom.
I haven’t seen a man in that kind of way in two years. Half-naked eye candy wasn’t really something I factored into having him tag along on my roadtrip. The fact that I’m currently experiencing slight guilt and an extreme thrill over the possibility of seeing things that haven’t crossed my mind since my pack makes me feel weird, too.
Therapy has been a blessing in disguise, one I was reluctant to receive but probably needed to start at the ripe old age of six. It’s helped me, but not feeling guilty enough over the thrillof Niko laying there in his underwear is a surprise. Just like my lack of assuming something like this was within the realm of possibility.
I should have, simply based on the logistics of sharing a space as small as this one. Hell, Niko saw my tits before I realized he was here. Things like that are definitely possible when there’s only twenty-three feet between one end of the camper and the other. I just wasn’t expecting to have any kind of reaction to it. Which is also stupid considering how drawn I am to Niko.
I guess, more than anything, I’m struggling with what is probably a natural response to someone as beautiful as that man in nothing but some boxer briefs because of what it forces me to think about.
My pack.
There’s guilt there, but not enough. I feel like I’m betraying them because I’m attracted to someone else, like how I feel going into heat without them is wrong, but not in a way that puts a stop to wandering thoughts. That’s something I imagine I’m going to have toreallydeal with as time goes on. That’s what my counselor at the shelter says, anyway. It’s okay to feel things for other people, platonic or not, because I can still love Dante, Emery, and Jay while making room to love someone else. Like I can still love our baby even if I have children down the road. My heat doesn’t have to be some awful reminder of what happened because I might be in a situation where I’m comfortable with it again, and ultimately I should be because it can bring people closer, and life can be created from it. All beautiful things I shouldn’t hate or feel bad about because of what I’ve been through. It’s all normal and natural, and it’s okay. Being alive is okay.Livingis okay.
Being stupidly attracted to the half-naked omega at my tableis okay.
I think what bothers me more than that is being reminded that even though we bonded, those boys were my chosen mates. We weren’t matched or soul bonded. Our relationships, our love, it started out situational. It wasn’t any less important or meaningful because of that; it might have even been more significant for the same reasons.
But the four of us chose to be together. We chose to become a bonded pack because of how we felt, because of what we’d been through together. Which means it’s more than possible, and extremely likely, I still have scent matches or soul bonds out there.
That scares me, it always has, but I didn’t have to worry about it while I was at the shelter. Being out here increases the risk, it intensifies the probability, and having Niko with me is like someone hung a neon sign in the middle of my RV that saysget ready to remember what your libido is, bitch, and kiss your heart goodbye while you’re at it.
I don’t trust people, not really, but I want so badly to be loved, to be someone’s priority and focus, I can get my wires crossed.
Like with Hayk.
I wanted to believe he was going to be the father I never had, that I was going to be living a fairytale when he took me in. I had no idea what was happening until it was too late because I was blind to it. I didn’t want to see things for what they were.
My counselor called that love bombing.
