She was genuinely worried about her friend, but she also knew that Juliette was in the throes of a new relationship and likely had simply forgotten. And that stung.
“Have a good night, hon,” the server called as Cass stood up with her purse and her pizza box.
“Thanks, you too.”
She walked out into the May evening, leaving behind the scents of yeasty dough and melted cheese. When she got behind the wheel of her car and put the box on the seat next to her, she stared at it, unsure how she was supposed to feel.
Was she being ridiculous? Overly dramatic?
No. No, she wasn’t. They’d had plans. Who ghosted a friend without even a text?
Cass turned on the engine, pulled out of the parking spot, and headed toward home. As she left the pizza parlor behind, her thoughts strayed to the split-double, and the thought that tonight was a glimpse of what was to come. They were essentially no longer neighbors, and that meant no more walks to and from work, no easy Wednesday dinners. The parts of Cass’s life that had seemed so full because of her friendship now suddenly seemed full of holes.
Cass’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.
This was the second time Juliette had flaked on Cass since she’d started her hot and heavy romance.
Cass thought that kind of spark was bad news. Too hot, too fast, too easy to mistake for forever. That was the kind of spark that was written about in love songs and romance novels, but in reality, it didn’t last.
Fast starts, big declarations of love, and promises made in the spur of the moment would fail eventually. She’d grown up in a house like that, had seen what happens when the new-shiny wore off and the everyday became a drag.
But the longer she drove, the more her hurt sharpened into something else. She wasn’t angry that Juliette had fallen in love. She was angry because tonight had mattered to Cass and it clearly didn’t matter to Juliette.
The turn for her street came up, but she drove past it. Instead of going home and changing into her comfy PJs and watching her comfort show with a tub of cookie dough ice cream, she headed toward King Lake.
Juliette had forgotten about Cass, and she’d just remind her.
Her fingers drummed on the steering wheel as she reached the bridge over Pine Run River. She’d grown up in Mill Creek but had never ventured to the shifter town of King Lake. There wasn’t a particular reason, she’d just never needed to go.
Cass was a creature of habit, and liked her routine exactly as it was – walking to work at The Coffee Shop Next Door, then home, dinner, and one of her comfort TV shows before bed.
She was a simple girl, and that was okay.
But as her car rolled into the parking lot of The Amber Howl where Juliette’s boyfriend – or mate, she supposed – worked with his wolf pack, something settled in her chest.
Suddenly, reminding Juliette that she’d ghosted her for dinner was the last thing on her mind. She turned off the engine and got out of the car. Music drifted from inside the tavern, and warm light spilled through the windows into the dark.
The place looked inviting. Not a hole in the wall that she wouldn’t visit for any amount of money, but a place where people belonged.
She looked into the car at the pizza box, then back at the tavern, as something low in her chest pushed her to walk inside.
“This is dumb,” she huffed. She was not storming into the tavern because Juliette had missed dinner. She was not the dramatic side character in someone else’s romance novel.
She should go home. But… she found herself stepping away from her car, shutting the door firmly, and walking toward the front door. She grasped the handle, aware that the annoyance from earlier that had brought her to King Lake had suddenly gone quiet in the wake of something soft and more urgent. Her feelings had shifted away from Juliette and toward something Cass couldn’t name.
But whatever that something was? She felt like it was inside.
Cass shook her head and pulled open the door. She was possibly losing her mind, or in the throes of a fever dream, but she’d come this far.
She stepped into the tavern and was met with warm lighting, clinking glasses, and the soft hum of conversation mixed with music. She looked for Juliette, but her gaze never made it past a guy standing at the bar.
Broad shoulders, dark brown hair, and a blackThe Amber Howlt-shirt clung to a chest that looked like it had been made for blocking doors, stopping trouble, and ruining Cass’s ability to breathe.
He lifted his head and bright blue eyes locked on hers.
And something inside Cassidy went utterly, completely silent.
Patrick – “Trick” to his pack and friends and anyone who’d ever tried to get his attention across a crowded bar – liked working the door at The Amber Howl.
