Page 24 of Written in Scent

“Fine,” I mutter. “Then I’ll stay.”

She stares at me for a long moment, like she’s trying to figure out if I’m serious. I am. Dead serious. I turn my body slightly away from her and stare into the trees, arms still crossed, refusing to leave her unprotected.

The silence between us is heavy and awkward. But I don’t care, she can think I am a grumpy bastard all she wants.

After a minute she sighs and goes back to her equipment. I stay where I am, trying not to watch her.

Trying and failing.

My eyes keep drifting back, focusing on the way she moves with such resolute purpose. The way her hair falls forward when she leans down. The rapt focus in her expression. She is beautiful in a way that makes my chest feel tight.

Finally I clear my throat. “Chase,” I say gruffly. “My name is Chase.”

She glances up, surprised. “Elodie.”

The name eases its way into my chest like it has always belonged there. We don’t say anything else. She goes back to her work and I stay where I am, arms crossed, pretending to look at the trees while every part of me stays locked on her.

I stay until she’s finished. And when she starts to pack up and leave, I follow along beside her, making sure that she gets home safely.

We walk in silence for a while. I keep a few steps behind her, eyes scanning the dark trees on either side of the path. Every rustle in the underbrush makes my instincts tighten. She’s still annoyed with me, I can feel it in the stiff set of her shoulders, but I don’t care, she’s not walking back alone.

The trail narrows as we near the edge of the woods. Moonlight filters through the branches in thin silver lines. I’m watching the ground ahead of us when she suddenly gasps.

“Stop!”

Her hand shoots out and grabs my forearm. The contact hits like lightning. Electricity races up my arm and straight into my chest. My breath catches hard. Her fingers are small but strong, hot against my skin, and for one dangerous second my mind blanks completely.

She yanks me back a step.

I look down. A caterpillar is curled on the path right where my foot would have landed.

She lets go of my arm like it burned her and drops to her knees. I stand frozen, heart hammering, trying to remember how to breathe. The place where she touched me still tingles like a live wire.

She delicately scoops the caterpillar onto her palm. “It’s a protected species,” she says, voice firm. “A black swallowtail. It will become a beautiful butterfly if it makes it through the next stage.”

She carries it a few feet off the path and gently places it on a safe leaf, murmuring something to it before standing again. Then she turns and scowls at me.

“Watch where you’re going.”

She keeps walking without another word.

I stay rooted for a second longer, trying to pull myself together. My arm still feels the ghost of her fingers. My chest is tight. I want to reach for her. I want to pull her against me and breathe in that sweet peach scent until the roaring in my head disappears. I want things I have no right to want from a girl who clearly thinks I’m an overbearing jerk.

I force my feet to move and follow her the rest of the way out of the woods.

We reach the edge of the woods where the path opens onto the drive leading to the dorm buildings. The lights from the building glow in the distance. Elodie stops and turns to face me, her expression still guarded.

“I can take it from here,” she says firmly. “Thank you… or whatever.”

She doesn’t wait for a response. She stomps off toward her building, shoulders tense.

I stay where I am and watch her go. My instincts refuse to let me turn away until I know she’s safely inside. So I stand in the shadows, arms crossed, eyes fixed on her small figure until she reaches the door.

Then I see it.

A small gray tabby cat slinks out from the bushes and winds around her legs with familiar confidence. Mittens. My cat. The one who hasn’t come back to the pack house in weeks. I had started to worry something had happened to her, that she had been hurt or lost or worse.

Relief hits me hard in the chest. Mittens is safe. And she is with her.