Page 77 of Bad Wolf

It’s a text from Casey—it’s not a text though, it’s a picture of all the girls sitting by his pool, drinks in hand.

The caption readsShe’s here man, come and get her already.

So that took what? An hour before Jason blabbed to Casey that I was done being a surly asshole. That’s big families and their meddling ways for you.

Fucking Uber it is, seeing as how my car still sits at Casey’s. If I’d just known she was there I could have asked the guys to wait for me.

Only, when I get back out into the brightness of the day, Scott is pulling up to the curb.

“Get in,” he snipes and I do so, silently.

“I forgive you,” I say immediately.

He laughs and shakes his head. “You think I’m sorry about taking in a girl who had nothing and giving her a place to crash while she tried to win my dumbass brother back? You won’t find any guilt here.” His big meaty hands steer us where we need to go.

“You’re fuckin’ annoying,” I tell him.

“You smell like you swam in a vat of cologne,” He retorts without taking his eyes off the road.

“No, I don’t!” Although I crack the window, but only because I’m hot from knocking on doors of empty apartments and running the endless blocks.

“For someone whom you claim has nothing, she’s certainly made her stamp on your apartment,” I can’t help the dig.

He blows out a breath. “Tell me about it. She tries really hard to keep her mess to a minimum, but if you catch her unaware it’s total chaos.”

“It kinda serves you right.”

“Just remember my situation is temporary. You’re the one who’s about to go into forever with that whirlwind of a chick. Aren’t people as smart as she is meant to like things orderly?”

Forever.

Am I about to go into forever? Is that what this is?

A life with Wren in it, or a life without her?

My heart tugs for the former. My brain might be thinking more clearly, but there’s no forgetting what we’ve been through. There’s no denying I once loved her—but am Iinlove with her?

There are those words again.

I knew it when I was fifteen and yeah, I tried to force myself to believe that that was all the delusions of a hormonal teenager.

What now though?

Now I need to make her see I’m sorry and I want to at least try and get past this. Try building a friendship and taking it one step at a time. Make her stay.

We’ll build trust.

We’ll communicate and get to know each other again.

I shrug, “You should have seen her while she was prepping for the SATs. She was, shit, I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s like her brain works faster than the rest of her and she somehow thrives in the chaos.”

“What’s with the bubbles?”

I lean back in my seat and sigh, “No idea, man. Started when she was little. She just loves ‘em. I think it’s some sort of lingering connection to her mom. She split when she was about five.”

“That’s pretty shitty.”

I nod. Of course, it is. It’s why I would never truly stand in the way of her relationship with my family, even if we don’t end up together which...

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