Page 18 of Timber Hollow

18

Pumpkins

six days to full moon

T he house is already loud when my eyes crack open. The boys are downstairs doing who knows what, but it's the light streaming through the window landing directly on my face that makes me stretch and sit up.

After running last night, and more specifically hunting whitetail deer into the early hours of the morning I'd driven back to the apartment and slunk up to my empty bedroom. The driveway had been empty, too.

It takes a minute to find my phone, but there are a slew of notifications on the bright screen.

Sam had sent me a picture of tacos and a margarita with a single line of text accompanying it.

missing you, bitch

miss you too, bitch

A single chuckle slips free of my lips as I quickly type my response.

The other text thread in my inbox, however, makes my stomach roll. Ethan . Ignoring how much my fingers tremble, I open the message. Of course, It's one-line, bait.

I had the diamond certified.

Cool. What's your point?

I had to make sure you and your boyfriends weren't stealing from me.

Wouldn't put it past you, lying whore and her bitch boys.

Is there a point to this, Ethan?

This time, he doesn't reply immediately, even though I know he's read the message by the little check marks. When Ethan does reply, I can hear him sneer the words in my head, and see how his face would twist vividly as if he were in the room with me.

Just keeping you in the loop, as your little bitch boy negotiated .

Great. Thanks. When will my stuff be delivered?

When you pay me to ship them to you

You're out of your mind if you think I'm paying for a damn thing.

Guess I'll have the staff donate it then.

You're a fucking asshole.

Be nice to me and I won't.

I have to restrain myself from throwing my phone to watch it shatter into a million tiny pieces against the wall.

We should have killed him.

Yeah, probably. My wolf snarks back.

Fine.

I'll call you when the paperwork is ready for you to sign.

You'll have to come to the office unless that's a problem for you.

No. I'll be there.

You motherfucker. Of course, he'd find a way to manipulate me into going back there. The conversation forces me out of bed, and into the shower. As I lather my hair and wash my body, my thoughts turn towards Ethan calling Jay my little bitch boy, and then I'm just thinking about Jay.

Picturing how he'd look under the stream of water, How he'd pick me up and slam me against the wall, fuck me fast and thoroughly. And then my hands are moving, slowly plucking a nipple, coasting down the planes of my stomach.

Leaning my head back against the tile, I imagine my hands are his, that it's his fingers dipping into my center, circling my clit. Fucking my fingers in the hot spray, but thinking about Jay moving inside of me, relentlessly bringing me to the brink over and over again.

The sounds of the shower drown out any sound I let slip free from my mouth, but it even takes me by surprise when release crashes over me in what feels like only moments later.

" Fuck," I pant, feeling a lot less tense. Even so, I can't stop thinking about the other night with Jay. Which is about as good for my health as skydiving without a parachute.

Since the water is now merely tepid, edging on cold I get out, quickly drying with an extremely fluffy and luxurious towel. I have no idea what the boys are doing downstairs, but I guess there's nothing to do but go find out. After throwing on a pair of leggings and a cropped long-sleeve, I silently make my way down the stairs.

"Hey, Gorgeous. Invite your friends over." Jay says to me as soon as I cross the threshold to the kitchen.

"Why?"

"To carve pumpkins."

"What if they don't have pumpkins to carve?" I sass at him, rolling my eyes.

"We have plenty. Trust me." He implores, handing me a cold can of caffeinated battery acid. I accept it, hopping up onto the counter, and watching Saint toss dishes into the sink.

"What if I don't have any friends?" I simper, peeking at Jay through my lashes and taking a sip of my drink.

"Tiny! So we're not friends?" Saint chimes in, pouting at me over his shoulder.

"I didn't say that," I reply, feeling just a smidgen guilty for the comment, even if I didn't mean it.

"So invite your friends, Artemis."

I sigh, rolling my eyes at him. "Fine." Setting my drink down, I pull out my phone and type out a message to the group chat for Coyote Bills, inviting them all over. "Are we having food, drinks? Or is this literally just carving pumpkins?" I ask them both, not caring who answers.

"All of the above," Jay answers, closer than he was just a moment ago and in a deeper voice. It nearly makes me drop my phone.

"Oh, a three-way woot woot. "

I'm still laughing at my joke, sending out the message when Jay steps closer again, resting his palms down on either side of my hips, large arms bracketing me in.

"Does that appeal to you, Gorgeous?" He grumbles, eyes locked on mine. They're lighter today, complimented by his grey t-shirt. Saint has turned, leaning against the sink and watching me and Jay, listening.

"Does what appeal to me?" I stammer, completely caught off guard by the comment, and the intense focus of them both.

Jay smirks, his gaze greedily roving down my body and then back up, snagging on my lips before his eyes are on mine again. "Nothing, never mind Gorgeous." He says, shaking his head, teeth grazing his bottom lip for one second. "You smell good today." He adds with a dark look in his eye, running his nose up the column of my throat, and then he's gone, slipping out of the room. I don't miss the smirk he throws Saint before he leaves though.

What the fuck?

I can't help but wonder what the hell he meant about me smelling good, it's not like I changed perfumes— not that I wear one, to begin with— or something stupid like that. I blink at his departure, completely bewildered. It takes me a few minutes to recover, slide off the counter, and go back upstairs to change. If we're having a party, then my leggings won’t cut it.

Seeing that all the girls from the bar replied that they would love to come to a pumpkin carving party, I typed out the quintessential girl question, hitting send.

What are you going to wear?

Almost immediately, the little dots indicating everyone is typing appeared on the screen.

Our group chat had settled on jeans- your favorite ones, tank tops, and flannels. I, of course, chose the same black pair of jeans with the rip under the ass, with a white tank top, black and gray flannel slung over my shoulders. Once the girls arrived, the boys had disappeared into their rooms, reappearing with flannels, too. Angel had shoved all seven of us together to get a picture without pumpkins before the Sun disappeared behind the trees.

Saint loudly declared the picture was going on the refrigerator when he gets it. I hadn’t looked at it too long because the small glimpse I got revealed Jay staring at my profile. Hours ago, I’d shed my flannel– leaving it inside when I refilled my drink.

The Moon has long since risen into the sky, our pumpkins now carved and merrily lit with candles all sitting on the steps.

I still can't believe that Jay not only bought the pumpkin I'd picked out but also the grey one that the shopkeep had insisted was too tough to carve. That one has a cute little bat carved into it, the other one of mine has a crescent Moon.

Jay, Saint, and Dante all did their best to carve their favorite characters' faces into the pumpkins, doing surprisingly well.

Ivy, Jill, and Angel all do classic renditions of a jack-o-lantern, triangle eyes, and wonky teeth.

We'd started a fire a little while ago, stacking logs high to get a big blaze going. The boys also apparently have outdoor speakers set up, music playing just loud enough to be heard, and patio furniture arranged around the fire in a loose circle, though no one is lounging in them yet. I truly don't know how I'd managed to find a group of friends and hang on to them. Even in school, my circle mostly consisted of Sarah and the friends of hers she introduced me to.

I wonder what Sarah is up to these days, anyway.

Ask Jay. My wolf replies, again too close to the edges of my consciousness. Even after last night's hunt, she's restless.

Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the wide-open night sky, but I move to do just that. Jay's eyes find mine immediately as I make my way to him as if he'd been aware of my every move even before now. In moments I’ve crossed the lawn to stand right in front of him, my drink clutched in hand.

Before I can voice the reason I've come over here so abruptly, someone bumps into me, knocking me forward and into Jay's space, where he is perched on the arm of the sofa. His knee goes between my legs, one of his large, warm hands coming around to grip the back of my thigh, the one with the rip in my jeans. Electricity tingles over my skin at the contact.

I tell myself it is just so he doesn’t fall backward. That's all.

"Sorry," I chuckle, but stay where I am. Tension stretches between us.

His fingers tighten on my thigh, gripping my flesh and preventing me from backing away. "I'm not." Jay answers simply, eyes flicking down to my lips, then back up.

I shift on my feet, edging minutely closer. Jay’s lips part, free hand coming around to grip my other thigh, holding me tight. Fingertips brushing the line of denim under my ass. It's almost as if time slows, feeling my pulse pound, watching Jay's eyes darken when I place my hand on the back of his head, threading through the short ashy brown strands.

Every move we each make is calculated, almost a chess match but I'm not filled with fear of the unknown. This is Jay.

My Jay.

So it is as natural as breathing to lean down, to fall into Jay's eyes. To press my lips against his, to let my tongue dance with his.

I've always been falling into Jay. Why would it be any different now? It might hurt in the morning, but I'm used to the burn.

So I moan softly into his mouth, pulling him closer. He does the same, practically pulling me into his lap. I'm all but lost in the reverie, the warmth that is Jay when he breaks the kiss, keeping me close to him.

"Hi, Gorgeous," Jay says, an unvoiced question dancing in his eyes.

"Hi, Handsome," I reply, fingers still gripping the back of his neck.

"What was that for?" Jay asks, lacing his fingers together at the small of my back.

"Because I wanted to?" For one startling moment anxiety spears through me, like he's upset, and my heart starts pounding, the urge to run, to bolt surges. My wolf with it.

"Mmh." Jay murmurs, and I can't tell what is on his mind. "I can live with that."

"Cool," I reply, feeling like a lovesick teenager. Slowly, I step back and out of his hold, and Jay lets me go, even if he hesitates. I raise my drink to him as I back away, turning and downing the thing in one go, dropping the now empty cup on a nearby table. Then, I walk over to Ivy and whisper in her ear.

"I'm going for a run, and I'm glad you came."

Ivy merely nods in return, brushing her hand down my arm as I walk away, returning to her conversation with Dante. It seems like everyone is sufficiently distracted. My steps are quiet as I skirt the edge of the house, around to the front. I could go inside, hide under the covers until dawn, I could strip and sprint through the trees… or …

The Stingray is right there. I could leave. Start it up and disappear like smoke. My fingertips tremble, indecision rippling through me.