Page 59 of The Wolves of Forest Grove

Even just keeping myself away from Clay day to day was a challenge. Sitting next to him in the Jeep was like trying to force two mega strong magnets apart. It was like ignoring an entire part of myself. Pretending it didn’t exist.

I’d done it before. Hell, I’d done it for most of my life. But this was different. Because I wasn’t just ignoring a part of myself, I was denying him.

“I don’t think he would stay,” Jared said, his voice so low and muted that I barely heard him, still lost in my own thoughts.

I recoiled from him, realizing a second later what he meant. “Are you saying he would leave?”

Jared nodded solemnly. “And Ryland would let him?”

“Probably. He’s never really liked Clay. And Clay is only even part of this pack because he was grandfathered in.”

“What does that mean?”

“Clay’s dad was the pack alpha before Ryland. When Clay’s dad died, technically, since he wasn’t challenged and beaten by another alpha, the role of pack alpha went to the second in command. The wolf with the strongest will.”

“Your uncle?”

“Yeah. My uncle. And this house is all Clay has left of his family, so he stayed with the caveat that he be allowed to live here, in their house, instead of on pack land with the others. So, Ryland declared the house to be pack property and allowed it.”

“Wait,” I said, backing away from Jared and removing my hand from his, staring around at the room with new eyes. “You’re saying this is Clay’s house?”

I’d thought it was Jared’s. Maybe it belonged to his parents before they passed away. Or maybe it was his uncle’s. Knowing it was Clay’s house—that he grew up here as a boy made it seem somehow as if I was trespassing.

Jared smirked at me. “Yeah. Technically.”

Well, fuck.

Once I was done digesting that, my mind circled back to the main problem that Jared was clearly now trying to avoid. “And you think he would leave, anyway? If I join the pack, do you really believe he would just abandon this? His home?”

Something panged in my chest. A dull aching throbbing with each beat of my heart.

I knew that when my father died, if there was any way I could’ve possibly kept the house, I would’ve. And I never would have left it. Not in a million years.

Jared’s face pinched and his lips pressed into a firm line.

“He’s your best friend,” I breathed, not bothering to hide the accusation from my tone anymore.

Jared bristled. “I know,” he said, his voice tainted with emotion. “You have no idea how impossible this is, Allie.”

I had no idea? He had to be fucking kidding me.

“I see you together, Allie. You and Clay. I’m not blind. I know there’s something there, too, whether I like it or not.”

My stomach dropped.

“And Clay deserves to be happy too. Hell, he deserves it as much as I do or even more after everything he’s been through.”

As he spoke, Jared’s hand curled into fists, tightening and tightening with each word.

His mixed emotions blasted over me like a hurricane. Guilt. Shame. Anger. And the kind of frustration that could blow you apart at the seams. I choked on it all, having to inch away little by little until my back was against the wall, unable to handle it all.

It was like trying to stand too close to the sun. If I didn’t move away, I was going to get burned.

“And it’s selfish of me and I know that.”

He shook his head solemnly, eyes unfocused as he stared into his lap.

Jared snapped his head up, watching me with amber eyes aglow.

My wolf responded, trying to search for the source of his anguish and extinguish it.

“It’s selfish, but I can’t help it. I want you all to myself, Allie.”

He reached out to me and it took everything in me not to take his outstretched hand. Not to fall into his arms and say he could have me. That he could have all of me. But I couldn’t do that.

I managed to get up from the bed and get halfway across the room. “No,” I breathed.

“No?”

“We can’t, Jared.”

He buckled as though my words had struck him like a physical blow.

“I won’t make Clay leave his home. We can’t do that to him.”

I didn’t speak the other thought aloud, but it was implied, the weight of it hanging in the air between us like a cloud of dread.

I would have neither of them. Not at the risk of the other’s happiness.

Cooking with Clay today, listening to music together, I’d seen a side of him I didn’t know existed. I’d seen him smile. Heard him sing and laugh. How could I want anything less for him?

Jared stood and in the low lamplight, I could see how his face paled. He looked like he’d aged ten years in this moment. “You’re right,” he breathed, as though he’d just come to some earth-shattering revelation. “You’re right.” He wiped his hand over his face.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking, I just—”

He looked at me then and everything he couldn’t say was written in his stare.

I understood.

In a knee-jerk response, I closed the gap between us and hugged him, pressing my face into his chest to inhale his woodsy scent. He wrapped his arms around me, gathering me to him like he wished he didn’t ever have to let go.

“I’m so sorry for all of this,” I choked, the words muffled.

“Don’t be,” he whispered against the top of my head. “It isn’t your fault.”

But it was.

It was always my goddamned fault.