Page 47 of Thunder with a Chance of Lovestruck
Stratton grabbed his arm again and jerked him to a stop. “You sure? Because it felt personal.”
“It wasn’t,” snapped Drest, the lie rolling off his tongue with a bitter taste. Of course, it had been personal. They’d dared to bring Rachael into it all. She was off-limits.
“Seriously, what gives?” demanded Stratton, still clutching Drest’s arm. “Talk to me.”
Drest cleared his throat. “I’ve just had enough of Gil and his buddies.”
“Same,” said Stratton. “We could put in for a transfer and be done with them. It would get you away from the Frankenstein crap too.”
The idea of never seeing Rachael again left Drest struggling to draw in air. He had to focus and gather his wits about him before he spoke. “No. I’m going to see this through. I think I just need to take a few days to myself. I might even take a week. I have a ton of personal time built up.”
Stratton’s lips drew upward. “As in, find a sexy woman to occupy your weekend and take your mind off things?”
Drest laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. That.”
It had been a little over two years since everything had gone to hell at the Frankenstein Manor. Twenty-eight months since he’d met Rachael and even longer since he’d slept with anyone. Normally, he went about three days before he had a new woman in his bed. This length of time was unheard of.
Maybe Stratton was on to something. Maybe he should find someone to spend a week with. There would be no strings. Just sex. It could help take his mind off Nile and the trial.
And maybe, just maybe, take his mind off Rachael.
She’d basically consumed his thoughts from the second he’d met her. He just wasn’t sure why. Yes, she was incredibly attractive, but every woman he took to his bed was.
Not like her, he thought instantly.
Stratton eyed him. “You all right? What’s going on?”
He touched his cousin’s shoulder. “Thanks for worrying about me, but I’m good. You’re right. I need to get my mind off things.”
“With a woman?” asked Stratton as he grinned more.
“Yes.”
“Just checking,” said Stratton before checking his watch. “I’ve got to go. I have an evaluation this afternoon on the human side of things. I need to go fool them into thinking I’m qualified to be here. Want me to stop by your place later? We can head to a bar and pick up women. I’m a great wingman.”
Drest pushed a smile to his face. “I think I might just pull a name from my black book.”
“Even better,” said Stratton. “You good?”
“I am. Thanks,” said Drest. “I’m serious about taking a week off from work—both places. Don’t need me.”
Stratton laughed and turned, heading back toward the Nightshade building.
Drest hung his head for a second, his chest tightening at the idea of touching any woman other than one. He closed his eyes, trying to push thoughts of Rachael from his mind. He had no reason to be so obsessed with her. It wasn’t healthy and it was far past time he moved beyond her. Thinking of her all the time had affected every aspect of his life. It was impacting his work tremendously. At some point, it would cost him everything if he didn’t get a grip on it and himself.
Let her go.
He winced at the inner thought and faltered in his step. Something was majorly wrong with him. It wasn’t as if he’d done anything more than heavy petting with her or anything, yet she was all he thought about. Worse yet, the black book he’d mentioned to Stratton didn’t even exist anymore. He’d thrown it away the minute he’d gotten home after meeting Rachael. He still wasn’t sure what had possessed him to do such a thing. But he had.
Someone bumped into Drest, jarring him from his thoughts. He took a deep breath, ignoring the smells of the city that were less than pleasant, and continued down the block. His intent had been to walk to the parking garage to get his car. When he finally stopped to take note of where he was, he found himself nearly ten blocks from where he’d started.
That wasn’t like him. He didn’t get lost in his own head to the point he lost track of what he was doing.
He glanced at the nearest subway entrance and took a few steps in its direction before something tugged at his gut, making him stop. He felt like a piece of metal being yanked in the direction of a huge magnet. He could no more stop himself from looking in the direction the pull was coming from than he could cease breathing. As he gave in, doing what his gut demanded, he spotted Rachael.
She was walking down the sidewalk with two other women. A tall redheaded woman and a shorter blonde. They were engrossed in conversation as everyone else passed them by.
What are the odds she’d be at the forefront of his mind while he tried to will himself to forget about her and then she’d be there—as if it was fate.
