6. Casey

Chapter 6

Casey

I tied a soft blue bow around the golden retriever's collar, stepping back to admire my work. The dog's tail wagged wildly, clearly pleased with itself.

I glanced over at my phone on the nearby table—still no new messages.

I sighed, trying to shake off the disappointment. Why did I even bother checking again? It had only been a few minutes.

Before I could get too wrapped up in my thoughts, Chris and Lisa's voices cut through the silence.

"He's probably thinking about that guy from the other day," Chris said, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

"Who? Garth?" Lisa chimed in, her tone curious. "Didn't you say he was an ass?"

I rolled my eyes. They were at it again.

With a baby on the way, you'd think they'd have more important things to focus on than playing detective.

But no, here they were, gossiping like high schoolers trying to pry more details about Sawyer out of me.

I finally had enough. "I'm not paying you to stand around and gossip with your wife, Chris," I said sharply, crossing my arms.

Then, turning to Lisa, I added, "And you—if you're going to hang around, you might as well grab an apron and help out." I gestured toward the cabinet where we kept the spare uniforms.

They exchanged sheepish looks. I had just made it worse. I knew what was coming next.

"So, it's the other guy," Chris replied, ignoring what I said, that knowing grin on his face.

"Who?" Lisa asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Sawyer, that shifter he went out with the other day." Chris's grin faded slightly as he noticed Lisa's frown.

I muttered a curse under my breath and turned away. I wasn't ready to tell them about Sawyer yet.

And Garth? Why would I even think about him?

I'd already gotten an extension on the rent—problem solved. The last thing I wanted was for him to have any excuse to drop by the shop again.

Why couldn't it be just like with Mrs. Hills? She only ever reached out when something important came up, or she'd drop by with a fruit crumble during the holidays.

Actually, scratch that—I didn't want Garth showing up for the holidays at all. The thought of him turning up with a pie as some kind of excuse made me shudder.

Chris suddenly held up a flyer. "Hey, what's this?" Chris asked.

Lisa leaned in. "Oh, you got one too?"

I snatched it out of his hand. I'd almost forgotten to mention the meeting. "Right, about that—I meant to tell you."

Chris raised an eyebrow. "What's it for?"

"Town meeting about shifters," Lisa said, glancing at the flyer again. "We should go together if you're going."

I hesitated. Did I really want to go? Then again, if Chris and Lisa were coming...

Plus, I kind of promised Aaron I'd show up. He'd messaged me about it a few days ago, and from what I could tell, it sounded like it was just going to be a casual discussion. Nothing too serious.

So maybe I'd go—if only to see what it was all about. Still, for some reason, I wasn't sure if I needed to tell Sawyer about it.

It wasn't like I was hiding anything, but it felt... off. Like I was hiding something from him.

But I'd promised Aaron, and I didn't want to back out now.

The room fell quiet, and Lisa's voice softened. "So, you and Sawyer have been spending a lot of time together, huh?"

I made a noncommittal sound, keeping my eyes on the flyer.

I could feel her watching me, waiting for me to say something, to confirm what she was thinking. She was worried, and I knew exactly why.

One Year Ago

The sound of the front door slamming jolted me, and I knew Mason was home. Even before he said a word, I could smell the alcohol on him.

He looked exhausted—more worn out than usual.

"What is this?" Mason gestured broadly to the apartment—a few dishes on the sink, shoes scattered by the door.

We'd both let it pile up for days, but it wasn't like it was a disaster.

"I've been busy," I muttered, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'll get to it later."

"Busy with what, playing with dogs? You've got time for that, but not for this?" His tone was sharp, cutting through the space between us.

I sighed, not wanting to do this tonight. He wasn't in any state for a real conversation.

"Come on, Mason, don't start. It's just some dishes ? —"

"Just some dishes? It's always ‘just something' with you lately!" His voice was rising, each word heavier with frustration.

Tension coiled in my chest. Not tonight. Not again.

"Mason, let's just drop it, okay? You've had a long day, and I don't want to argue," I said.

His eyes flashed gold and it was enough to send a chill down my spine. I'd seen him angry before, but this... this seemed different.

One moment he was tired and irritated, the next, it was like something darker had taken over him.

"I'm tired of dropping it, Casey!" he shouted, stepping toward me. "I'm tired of you pushing everything off like it doesn't matter!"

My heart raced. This isn't him , I reminded myself. This isn't Mason.

"Mason, calm down," I said, holding my hands up, trying to defuse the situation. "Let's just talk ? —"

Before I could finish, he swung his arm out, faster than I could react. His claws extended, slashing across my forearm as I instinctively raised it to shield myself.

Searing pain ripped through my arm, and I stumbled back, clutching the wound. Blood trickled between my fingers, staining the floor.

"Mason, stop!" I shouted, my voice shaking as much as my hands.

I'd never seen him like this—never this aggressive, this out of control.

Sure, we'd had our fights, but nothing had ever escalated like this. It was like he wasn't even himself anymore, and I didn't know how to reach him.

He lunged at me again, and I scrambled for something—anything—to protect myself.

My hand found a wine bottle on the kitchen counter, and without thinking, I swung it.

The bottle shattered against his head, the sound echoing through the room.

Mason staggered, his eyes wide with shock before he crumpled, collapsing on top of me and knocking me to the floor.

For a moment, I couldn't breathe—his weight pinning me down, the shock freezing me in place.

I shoved him off me, my heart pounding. He wasn't moving. His breathing was shallow, but he was out cold.

Must've been the alcohol , I thought, relieved. A shifter wouldn't usually go down that easily, but Mason had clearly drunk too much.

I looked at my bleeding arm, shaking from adrenaline. Everything had spiraled so quickly—from a simple argument to this.

I stared at his unconscious form, my mind reeling. What the hell just happened?

Back in the present, I realized I was clutching my arm, fingers absentmindedly tracing over the old scars.

Lisa's eyes stayed on me, concern written all over her face, but she didn't say anything. She didn't have to. We both knew what was going through my head.

After everything with Mason, I stayed with Chris and Lisa here in Pecan Pines for a while—just until I could figure things out.

But what was supposed to be temporary became more permanent when I realized how quiet it was here. It felt safe.

At the time, the local pack wasn't allowed to conduct pack business in town, which made it easy to avoid them.

And that's exactly what I did for the past year—kept my head down, focused on the shop, and stayed out of their way.

Shifters never bothered me here, and I didn't go out of my way to notice them either.

It was like my mind had created this blind spot, steering clear of anything that reminded me of what I'd left behind.

That's probably why I never noticed Sawyer and his family's second-hand bookstore before. I never went near it, never let myself get too close.

But lately, things had been changing, especially when I found out Mason had moved on.

He was mated to another shifter now. I heard the news a few months ago and honestly, I felt relieved.

It was like a weight I didn't even know I was carrying had finally lifted.

I was fine on my own. I had my routine, my shop, my life. And I was healing. Slowly, yes, but healing all the same.

I didn't need anyone else. At least, that's what I told myself.

Until I met Sawyer.

Ever since we kissed, it felt like a dam had burst. I couldn't stop thinking about him.

The way his lips felt against mine, the warmth that surged through me. It had been so long since someone made me feel like that.

And now I couldn't help but wonder: was I ready for this?

Ready to open myself up again, to start something new? Especially with a shifter.

I'd only just started putting my life back together—the shop was doing well, and I was starting to feel comfortable in my own skin again.

Liking someone now? Considering something more? It felt like a risk. One I wasn't sure I could take.

Maybe it would be better to just stay friends. Okay, friends who had kissed. But still, friends.

Right. It was about personal growth. About opening myself up to the possibility of trusting someone again.

At least, that's what I kept telling myself.

I let out a long breath, trying to clear the jumble of thoughts swirling in my mind.

Chris broke the silence. "You want to see him again, don't you?" He grinned, already knowing the answer.

I hesitated. Did I really want to see Sawyer again? Yes. But a part of me was still holding back. "I... I don't know."

Chris gave me a playful nudge. "You do. Why don't you just go over to the bookstore and see if he's there? I can watch the shop for you," Chris said.

I glanced at Lisa. She wasn't as quick to jump on the idea. "Are you sure about this?" she asked, her voice softer, more cautious.

She was worried—about me, about Sawyer, about how this could all turn out.

"I'll be fine," I said, even though I wasn't entirely sure myself.

Chris chimed in again, more encouraging this time. "Come on, Casey. You haven't really been going out much lately. This could be good for you."

Maybe he was right. Maybe seeing Sawyer again was what I needed, even if it was just to figure out where I stood.

I glanced around the secondhand bookstore as I stepped inside.

It was mostly empty, except for two people sitting by the counter seats at the window, chatting quietly.

An older woman stood behind the cashier near a small café section, offering a warm smile as I approached.

"One coffee, please," I said, slipping a few bills onto the counter.

I grabbed my cup and found a small table near the window, positioning myself where I could quietly observe the room.

I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but the conversation between the two by the window drifted over.

"So, Miles, who do you think this Casey is?" one of them, a guy with tousled blond hair, asked. His voice was just loud enough to catch my attention.

"No idea," the other, a dark-haired man with glasses—Miles—replied, glancing my way for a split second before continuing. "Sawyer's not saying anything, as usual. But you know who might know? Griffin."

My hand stilled over my coffee cup. They were talking about me.

"Griffin, huh? Yeah, he might know something," the blond guy chuckled.

I sipped my coffee, trying to keep my expression neutral, but my ears were definitely tuned in now.

Miles leaned back in his seat. "But Noah, are you okay with this?"

"With what?" Noah asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Casey, Sawyer... the two of them, whatever's going on," Miles said, sounding hesitant.

There was a pause. I could feel the tension in the air as Noah considered the question.

"Yeah," Noah admitted after a moment. "I'm not interested in Sawyer like that anymore. It didn't work out between us, so... it is what it is." He shrugged.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Before I could dwell on it any further, a familiar voice called out.

"Casey?"

I looked up, and there was Sawyer, standing in the doorway of an office toward the back. His expression flickered with surprise, and for a moment, neither of us said anything.

The conversation at the counter abruptly stopped, and both Noah and Miles turned toward me, their faces going pale as they realized who I was.

"I didn't expect to see you here," Sawyer said as he walked closer.

"Yeah, thought I'd grab a coffee." I offered a small smile, feeling the awkwardness creep in as Noah and Miles exchanged nervous glances.

"Oh, uh—Casey, this is my brother, Miles," Sawyer said, gesturing to the man with glasses. "And this is Noah."

"Nice to meet you," I said, giving them a polite nod.

Miles rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. "Hey, sorry about… uh..." He let out a nervous laugh. "Anyway, listen, next time we should all hang out. Maybe grab a drink or something?"

"Sure, sounds good," I replied, offering a small smile to smooth over any lingering awkwardness.

As the tension started to ease, Miles grinned, flicking his eyes between Sawyer and me.

"Oh, and by the way, I wanted to thank you." Miles paused dramatically, shooting Sawyer a mock glare. "Ever since you came along, he's finally started caring about the way he looks. You should see him—checking the mirror, making sure everything matches. It's exhausting."

Noah chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, he used to just throw on whatever was clean. Now it's all about ‘color-coordinating'."

Sawyer groaned, covering his face. "You guys are the worst."

I laughed softly, feeling the last bit of tension from earlier dissolve.

Sawyer rolled his eyes, then turned back to me. "C'mon, let's get out of here and grab a coffee."

I raised an eyebrow, holding up the cup in my hand. "There's coffee right here."

"Yeah, but I meant somewhere... quieter." He gave me a quick look, his hand brushing against my arm as he passed by. It was brief, but the warmth of his touch lingered, a soft hum beneath my skin.

I followed him out of the bookstore, my heart racing a little from the unexpected contact.

As we walked down the street, I couldn't resist teasing him. "So... how much time do you actually spend picking out your clothes now?"

Sawyer shot me a playful side-eye. "Not as much as Miles makes it seem. He's just trying to mess with me."

"Oh, sure. I bet you've got a secret wardrobe hidden in the back just for emergencies," I joked.

"Maybe," Sawyer said, laughing.

As we reached the coffee shop, Sawyer ordered without missing a beat. "Caramel latte, right?"

I blinked, surprised that he remembered. "Yeah," I replied, a little late. It was the same drink I'd ordered on our last outing.

As we sat down with our drinks, I realized just how at ease I felt. It had been a long time since I'd been this comfortable with anyone—let alone a shifter.

Meeting Miles and Noah didn't bother me, and neither did being here with Sawyer. Maybe I was finally moving past it, past the fear that had kept me so closed off.

But still... I couldn't let myself get carried away. Not now, when I was finally finding my footing again.

Sawyer and I were just friends. Friends who had crossed a few lines, sure, but that didn't change anything. I couldn't afford to let it.