A Werewolf Blog in Brooklyn

The L Word, and I don’t mean Lycan | September 25, 2014

This kiss is a reminder of everything I once felt for this Lycan. Everything that got crushed when he rejected me. This thought is enough to snap me out of the kiss and I pull back and push back at Booker’s shoulder’s.

Booker whines in his throat as we part and rests his forehead against mine, his eyes closed as we both remember we can breathe air, without the other one.

“Please,” I hear him mutter softly, ever so softly. My eyes look up at him. “Don’t do this.” He says sadly.

It’s like he knows exactly why I’ve called him hear. As if saying Paris knows, isn’t enough.

“We got to reign this thing in Book. Get a hold of it for good.” I say back at him in a low voice.

Booker opens his eyes and looks down at me. “Let me guess, he doesn’t want me anywhere near you, I’m not allowed on your protective detail.”

“He hasn’t said so.” I reply. “But this isn’t about Paris, Booker, it’s about me, and you.”

Booker pulls back and drops his hand off the back of my neck. But he retains contact with my hand and wrist.

“How’d he find out anyway. I’ve never told anyone. Not even my brother, although, I think he might’ve suspected something once.”

I wonder if Booker ever forgot to wash my scent off him after we were together. Even a lycan without much scent tracking skills could pick up on another wolve’s scent over their mate.

“It doesn’t matter how. Booker I’m doing this. Besides, you have a mate, you have a girlfriend.”

“A non.” He states at me.

“You choose her Booker and isn’t it, like the longest relationship you’ve been in with her? You should focus all this thing you have for me, on her. Think of her instead.”

Booker lips his lips. “That might be a bit difficult.” He admits.

“How so?”

Please don’t tell me they broke up. Please, please, please.

“She looks like you.” He says back at me and my eyes widen in surprise. I never knew that. But I’ve never met her. Never had a chance or a need to.

“What!”

Booker puts up a hand in defense. “No like, you exactly. I mean, she has you’re traits. Black hair, eyes, same height.”

I groan and bury my face in my hands. He picked a girlfriend who reminded him of me. She’s probably not even aware of that little secret fact.

“Booker,” I mutter through my hands. I drop my hands and look back up at him “You didn’t want me, so I walked away and you let me! You don’t get a do-over.” My anger is rising. Crap.

He looks at me tenderly. “I’ll do anything you want, just tell me I’m not being exiled from you.”

My heart races. Booker and I, this odd connection of lycan and werewolf, of love in a past time, it’s always had it’s own precipice.

It’s always, despite not working out kept us close.
Booker’s always had this thing about being separated from me, for too long a time. I kind of noticed it not long after we stopped dating.

“I wish you could be with me.” He admits for the first time, since we fell apart. Years ago.

So we developed this habit. Nobody would think much of it, because we worked it into our lives, and around our social groups. Every few weeks, he or I would find a reason, or take advantage of pack work to end up being grouped together. It wasn’t even about the physical touching. It was just about being around one another.

A familiarity to lessen the heartache I guess.

“I missed my chance, I get that.” Booker says frowning. “I mean, I get that, but my wolf self, won’t let you go.”

“I’m not you’re wolf Booker. You need to tell that wolf that, control it, not let it control you.” I sate back at him and pull my hand out of his. He straightens up and his body stiffens.

His scent is stronger when he’s distressed. Shit.

“I missed my chance when you broke up with Conall, I don’t even know how. I mean one minute you were dating him and then the next I know, you’re the talk of Brooklyn with all this chatter around you and Paris.” His brown eyes hold mine in their sorrowful gaze. “Baby Girl I would’ve, but you weren’t there. I’ve been in love with you since I first saw you and I no matter how I try, I can’t shake that.”

Oh shit.

He dropped the L-word on me.

He’s never actually voiced that with me before. But I’ve always felt it.

Continued in We The Wolves.

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