Chapter Twenty-Four

The Loss of Hope (7 Letters)

Seb

I'd fucked up.

I was a bit of a mess for the rest of the day at work. But quietly. Subtly, in a way no one even noticed. I sat rigidly on the couch for most of the afternoon, staring down with unseeing eyes at my crossword. I didn't fill a single thing in. It felt wrong to even sit in here without Larkin.

I'd reacted badly when he said he'd told Kit we were dating. It had been painful to hear, knowing it wasn't true and wasn't a possibility. And it had made me realise that I'd started to let myself… hope. Especially after last night. When he'd clung to my hand while I was sucking him off, then nestled himself against my chest, warm and naked and relaxed. Then stayed to hang out for the rest of the evening. Then curled into my side and leaned his head on me while we were watching the movie.

Yeah, I'd stupidly started to let fragile hope blossom. Which was so fucking foolish. I was making this so much worse for myself.

After Holt had grabbed his keys for him earlier, I'd sat there completely still for about ten minutes, my heart beating too hard and too fast. Then I'd fumbled with my phone and texted him, worrying that he didn't want to see me or speak to me but unable to stop myself.

I hope you feel better soon

It was a pathetic text. There were plenty of other things I should've said. He'd seemed flustered and upset after I'd gotten cold and distant earlier, trying to protect myself. I shouldn't have been so blunt. This was all new to him—he didn't know how to navigate any of it. Although neither did I, to be honest.

I almost sent him another text saying I missed him, the ache in my chest growing hard to ignore, but I stopped myself. I couldn't do that. It would just confuse things even more. It wasn't fair.

But I did. I missed him.

When Holt and Taylor finally left for the day, I got straight in my car and drove home to my quiet, empty house. The pizza box and game console were still on the coffee table, because I'd been too tired to clean up after Larkin had left at around midnight.

I took a shower and made some dinner, eating morosely in front of the TV. Larkin hadn't replied to my text, but I still kept checking my phone every few minutes. After loading the dishwasher, throwing out the pizza box and our empty soda cans, then tucking the game console away under the TV, I stood there vibrating with restless, unpleasant energy.

I couldn't just sit in my house all evening. I'd lose my mind.

I considered calling Ludo and seeing if he wanted to go for a beer. Or maybe even driving to the next town over to visit my parents or see one of my sisters. In the end, I left to go for a run in the woods to try and burn off some of this nervous energy.

I was in just my loose shorts, so I didn't have to stop and get undressed before shifting into my true form once I was safely hidden among the trees. In a rush, my senses sharpened. It had rained at some point during the day, so the scent of rotting leaves, wet earth and clean water still dripping slowly from the trees above filled my nostrils. My right ear twitched when something small and quick scampered into a bush nearby. My toe claws curled into soft, damp soil as I stretched my spine and shook out my fur.

This was a good idea. I didn't spend as much time in my true form as other werewolves, because I felt less coordinated and more ungainly like this. I didn't shift much at the office because it was too overwhelming to have to stand there and breathe in Larkin's sweet caramel scent with such enhanced olfactory senses. And like this, I always grew a little less… rational. More driven by instinct. So it was a bad idea to be around him.

After taking a few deep breaths to try and clear my mind, I started running. I wasn't being particularly graceful or light-footed, but it wasn't like I was hunting, and no one ever came out here. Animals skittered out of my way as I crashed through the trees and leaped over fallen logs, the muffled thuds of my big paws against the earth loud and heavy in the quiet.

It took a while for me to flag. Slowing to a jog, I started heading back. I'd made sure to run in a big loop so I didn't have to traipse too far in the hazy purple gloom of dusk, so it wasn't long before I was approaching the house.

When I heard the distinct sound of a car coming up my driveway, I stopped dead. My heartrate picked back up, thudding hard and fast as I listened to the engine being cut off and a car door opening.

Familiar light footsteps crunched over gravel, then grew hollow as they reached the front porch steps. When a hint of sweet caramel apple reached me through the trees, I was running again before I'd even fully registered it.

I burst out from the trees at the edge of the drive to see Larkin shifting anxiously from foot to foot on my front porch. He jumped violently and clutched at his chest as he turned toward the sound.

"Holy fucking… fuck." He gulped down a few breaths. "That scared the shit out of me."

Slowing to a clipped walk, I shifted back into my human form as I approached him. I was breathing hard and covered in sweat that made my skin prickle in the cooling air, leaves and twigs clinging to my shorts and my bare feet covered in mud, more splattered over my calves.

"Hi," I rasped nervously, ignoring the sharp stones jabbing into my soles as I came to a stop at the bottom of the porch steps. "Sorry for startling you. I just, uh, went for a run."

Larkin nodded quickly, licking his lips as his eyes darted down my frame. He looked so beautiful, his bright pink hair pulled back into a messy bun and his big blue eyes almost luminous in the dying light. He was clutching a paper grocery bag to his chest and wearing the same sweater as last night over a pair of grey sweats. I just wanted to burrow my hands under it and run them over his warm, smooth skin beneath.

But maybe I'd never get another chance to. Maybe he was here to tell me he didn't want any more lessons. That he'd gone home and decided he didn't want any of the wrestlers thinking we were dating, so he was quickly going to rectify the situation before Kit told anyone.

I felt sick. I couldn't bring myself to speak, bracing myself for the worst. He didn't say anything at first either, so we stood there in awkward silence as the solar-powered fairy lights strung along the front porch railing flickered to life.

"I'm sorry," he blurted desperately, the paper bag crinkling against his chest as his fingers tightened on it. "I'm so sorry, Seb. For saying that to Kit. I… I feel like I've fucked up and now you're mad at me."

My chest cracked. I walked quickly up onto the porch to join him. "I'm not mad at you, Lark. At all. You didn't fuck up. You didn't do anything wrong. Please stop apologising. I'm the one who's sorry," I added hoarsely. "I was an asshole earlier."

He shook his head. "You weren't."

I gazed at him in despair, and couldn't mask the devastation in my voice when I croaked, "I upset you."

Knowing I'd made him feel that way was like getting kicked repeatedly in the stomach.

"I was just… flustered from Kit telling me they'd heard us." His cheeks stained a delicate pink in his human form. "And I… I dunno. I hadn't eaten lunch yet."

"Did you eat when you got home?" I asked with a concerned frown. He huffed, his lips tilting into a tiny fragile smile.

"Yeah." Fidgeting anxiously, he gazed up at me with those big blue eyes and wet his lips. "I was… I was wondering if you wanted to hang out for a while."

I tensed a little. "For a lesson?"

I didn't think I was in the right frame of mind for that tonight. Being that close to him, being so intimate with him, and having to pretend it didn't mean anything more than one ‘friend' helping out another.

"No. Not, um, a lesson." Larkin shook his head quickly, then gave me another weakly hopeful smile as he raised the grocery bag clutched against his chest. "I bought stuff to make bread on my way here. Yeast and flour. And, um, honey, to… My dad says it's the best thing to use to activate the yeast. And a loaf pan in case you don't have one."

My throat closed up. I managed to nod, needing to take a few seconds before I could answer. "That sounds nice. Thank you."

His brows pinched as he took a step closer, until I could feel the pressure of his presence against my bare front. He gazed up at me with a slightly pleading look that made me want to drag him into the woods and hide him away from everyone else. Just keep him for myself. The delicate, beautiful fae being guarded fiercely by the possessive werewolf.

"Are we okay?" he asked anxiously.

God. I knew rationally that he just meant as friends. Or maybe as ‘fuckletics instructor' and student. But I wanted it to mean so much more.

"Yes," I rasped, managing to give him a smile. "Of course."

His shoulders slumped in relief as he let out a breath. He fidgeted in place for a second, then lunged forward and pressed himself against my front, his free hand clutching my back tight while the grocery bag got squished between us.

I forced myself not to kiss the top of his head as I wrapped my arms around him and returned the hug. After just a few seconds, he pulled back with a snuffle of laughter.

"You're all sweaty."

"Sorry," I said ruefully, glancing down at myself. "I'm pretty muddy too. I better take a shower."

"Okay." He gave me a fragile version of his usual big, beautiful grin. "I'll unpack this stuff and wait for you."

Unlocking the door, I held it open and followed him inside. He toed off his sneakers and chuckled at the muddy footprints I was leaving as I headed for the stairs.

"It looks like Bigfoot's been wandering around your house. Look at the size of 'em."

I glanced back with a grin as I made my way up the stairs. "You know what they say about big feet."

"Um, yeah, dude. I know for a fact that you have a stonking big dick."

I laughed, some of the remaining tension bleeding away. After taking another quick shower to rinse off the mud and sweat, I pulled on a clean pair of shorts and hurried back downstairs.

He just wants to spend time with me. He's not even here for a lesson.

I was already grinning as I walked into the kitchen and saw Larkin playing idly on his phone as he sat on his usual barstool, now in his fae form. On the counter was a big bag of flour, a jar of honey, and several packets of active dry yeast, with a brand-new loaf pan drying on the rack beside the sink.

Larkin looked back at me and grinned. "I got this really good butter too. For when the bread's done. It's in the fridge."

"Alright, sounds good." I came to a stop beside him. "Got a recipe we'll be following?"

"Obv. My dad's." He reached into his sweatpants pocket and pulled out a folded slip of paper. "Got him to write it down for me when he got home from work. Thought he was gonna cry from happiness, dude."

I chuckled, looking down when Larkin unfolded the paper and set it on the island. Sure enough, his dad had written at the top of the page, above the recipe, To my precious son, I love you so much. You're our little sweetpea. We're so proud of you. We love you. Enjoy making this bread.

"Oh my god," Larkin groaned, rubbing his face. "He handed it to me folded up so I didn't know he'd… He is so embarrassing, dude. It's just a freaking bread recipe."

"It's really sweet." I chuckled, then side-eyed him slyly. " Sweetpea. "

"Shut your face, dude." He blushed and shot me a glare that was about as threatening as a mewling kitten. "Or I won't teach you how to make dope bread."

"Alright." I chuckled and raised my hands. "Won't say it again. Promise."

"Better not." He gave me a teasingly stern look as he stood, then hesitated before stepping closer and trailing his fingertips down the line of hair between my abs as he grinned up at me shyly. "Ready?"

My stomach muscles clenched at the touch, my cock tingling in my shorts. But he wasn't here for a lesson, and I was beyond excited to spend more time with him like we had last night after the blowjobs. Just hanging out, everything so easy and comfortable and relaxed.

Maybe he'd snuggle up to me again if we ended up watching a movie or something. I really fucking hoped so.

"Ready," I rasped.