Page 7 of Desire Him

“I don’t want to have to tell him twice.”

“You deserve to. For yourself, you deserve for him to know how you feel.”

Val is quiet for a moment, chewing on the inside of her lip. “And what if he doesn’t return the feelings?” God knows she wants him to. However, she doesn’t want to be let down. Last night, she had been brave, but she doesn’t know if she can be brave another time. Not after today. And there’s the fact that he never said “I love you” back when he was drunk. Even his mating instinct wasn’t there.

Eme shrugs and leans back. “Then you know. Then you can move on and find someone who deserves you. Pining after him for the rest of your life isn’t the way to go. You know this.”

“I don’t think I’m brave enough to tell him again,” she says in a small voice.

“Well, give it some time. Let yourself heal from the rejection. Then, try again when you’re brave enough.”

Val nods as Eme slaps the table and stands up from her stool. “Thanks for cleaning up,” she adds. “Wayne should be back this afternoon, and I want to sit in on the meeting with him and Logan. But first, I want to go over Logan’s notes about the rogues. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

Val nods again and watches her friend exit the kitchen and climb the steps to Logan’s office.

Wayne slides onto a stool next to the rogue who smells packless. The rogue acts like he’s not even there, however, which piques Wayne’s curiosity. The man doesn’t look dirty, something Wayne would expect from a rogue. Rogues tend to not take care of themselves, but this man seems well-kept. His leather jacket is flawless, and his graying beard is well-groomed. Though he’s aged, Wayne can tell he’s fit. The sleeves of his jacket are stretched from the muscles in his arms.

Mentally shrugging, Wayne sets his elbows on the counter and crosses his arms. The bartender raises an eyebrow, another packless wolf, and takes his time coming over to Wayne.

“What can I get you?” he asks in a gruff voice.

Wayne spies the tattoos crawling up the bartender’s arm, disappearing under the sleeve of his t-shirt, and reappearing on his neck. “Coffee. Black.”

The bartender curtly nods and then heads to the coffee pot on the other side. Wayne turns his head and studies the rogue next to him. He’s drinking brandy, from the smell of it. He’s never liked the smell of brandy. It’s a drink his dad always had when Wayne was a kid.

Both of Wayne’s parents are dead, just like Logan’s. They had him when they were older, and they died shortly following Wayne’s return to the pack after attending the shifter university here in the city. They were good parents, but his father did like to drink. Wayne supposes it’s a trait passed down to his son.

The rogue takes his last sip of brandy as the bartender comes back with a hot mug in hand. He sets the mug down in front of Wayne, and Wayne points to the rogue’s drink. “Can you get him another? On me.”

The bartender raises an eyebrow again but grabs the brandy from the back shelf and pours the rogue another drink. He then walks away, tending to someone on the other side of the bar.

“You didn’t have to do that,” the rogue says. He doesn’t turn to look at him. He just stares at the contents of his drink.

“You look like you could use it.” Wayne curls his fingers around the warm mug, lifts it, and blows at the steam.

“I don’t need your charity,” he grumbles.

Wayne flexes his jaw once. Can’t the man just thank him? “I’m Wayne. I’m from-”

“The Brook Mountain Pack.” He shifts to look at Wayne. “You reek of the mountains.”

“Well, you reek of the city. Count us even, Jerry.”

“The name is Jesse.” He takes a swig of his brandy. “And you should really think about leaving.”

Wayne smiles gives him a small smile, wondering if it’s a threat or advice. “Are you going to escort me out?”

Jesse raises an eyebrow. “I don’t give a rat's ass that you’re here.”

“Good.” Wayne sips at his coffee and then grimaces. The coffee tastes two days old. “So why should I leave?”

Jesse shifts in his seat and discreetly looks around. The few shifters in the bar aren’t paying attention to either of them, so he leans in a bit to whisper, “The rogues are unrulier than usual. It’s best you don’t hang around these parts of town. Most of the rogues hate the mountain pack.”

That’s not news to Wayne. Rogues dislike the Head Alpha and his rules. “Unrulier how?”

“Burning buildings, trashing businesses, shifting to scare humans.”

That must have been what the burning building was about that Wayne saw on his way in. Under his breath, Wayne says, “It sounds like they need an alpha.”