We took our normal place in the pews. Not long after we arrived, I saw Blake and Luke take their seats next to Blake’s parents. Blake looked over at me and gave me a quick smile. I smiled back, and he turned back to the front.
After the service, Blake, once again, found me outside of the bathroom when I exited.
“It’s convenient that you always have to pee at this time, predictably.” He smiled.
“You’re such a stalker.”
“Yesterday you were the one that called me over to you. You’re sending mixed messages to your stalker. I can’t help it if I think you enjoy it.” He smirked.
“What happened yesterday? Did you catch the culprit?”
He shook his head. “No, this wolf can swim miles in freezing cold water. Makes it really inconvenient for tracking. We just got lucky that some of his scent attached itself to the ice. Good job, though. Let me know if you smell any other strange scents anywhere.”
“Were you really going to torture him?”
“Of course. I still regret not torturing the assholes that attacked you. I would have loved to watch them squirm and cry like babies while I carved them into little pieces. After what they tried to do to you, it would have been one of my favorite tortures.” His eyes looked evil again. Maybe Luke was right—Blake was fucked up.
He seemed to snap out of it and said, “So what’s on the agenda today? Gym? I think we’re both due for some squatting.”
“Actually, I have to meet with Luke today.”
“Hmm,” he said, his whole demeanor changing. I was compelled to reach my hand out in a comforting gesture. Not sure why that was my reaction, but it seemed Blake may have been hurt by my response. “Well, don’t let me stand in the way of your mate.” He then walked away. I felt like I should go after him and say something, but I wasn’t sure what, eventually deciding to leave it be.
I walked back to where everyone was to find my parents so they could take me home before heading to work. I saw them deep in conversation with some of my mom’s friends and their mates. Luke stepped in front of me before I could get closer to them. He grabbed my hands, holding them between us.
“Jasmine.” He looked deeply into my eyes. I saw a sadness behind his as he spoke, sensing sorrow. “I’ll be in the packhouse all day. Just come by whenever you have time, and we can talk.”
I nodded, then turned back to get to my parents.
They dropped me at home, and my chest ached as I watched them drive away through the front window. I paced the house, trying to calm myself down. I didn’t want to delay it anymore, but I also wasn’t in any rush to be handed my fate. The anxiety and aching within me were becoming unbearable. After around an hour of pacing, I finally jumped into my car and sped toward the packhouse.
I rang the doorbell and waited outside until Luke opened it. He encompassed me in a hug and then led me inside, into the living room, gesturing for me to sit on the couch.
“Would you like something to drink? It might make this easier.”
I nodded, knowing I would need more courage than I naturally had.
“Any preference or drink of choice? I was planning to make some gin and tonics. I think this occasion calls for something stronger than wine.”
“Gin and tonic sounds good to me,” I replied. He nodded and walked away toward the kitchen. I sat down on the couch, and he returned with a spoon and two glasses filled with ice. He put them down on a couple of coasters on the coffee table, reminding me of the first time I’d met him at the packhouse, bringing back a feeling of nostalgia.
He grabbed two bottles off the bar cart and brought them over to the table. He sat down next to me, poured a mixture of gin and tonic into our glasses, and used the spoon to stir them. He placed the spoon onto an empty coaster and lifted his glass in a toasting gesture. I clinked my glass to his and we both said, “Cheers.” We both downed a good amount of our drinks and placed them back onto the coasters.
I looked at him and asked, “So what did you decide?”
“Right to the point, I see,” he responded, sighing. “Let’s enjoy our drinks first and then we’ll talk. Are you hungry? I can also bring out some snacks.”
“I’m good,” I replied, knowing I wouldn’t be able to eat even if I were hungry.
“Let me know if you change your mind. It’s not good to drink on an empty stomach.”
“Mm,” I replied.
“So how was your weekend?”
“It was okay. How was yours?”
“Miserable.” He took another drink and refilled his cup. I did the same and he topped me off.