“Riot,” Khaos groans in exasperation. “She has to get ready for the date. Let her go.”
Riot growls, and his fingers clamp tighter, lifting me off my feet. My eyes widen as all my weight is now supported by the hot heat of his thigh at the apex of where all my brains have suddenly disappeared to.
“Let. Her. Go.” Khaos growls, and this time, his voice is darker, deeper.
I’m slowly lowered to the ground, but I reach out to Riot, holding on to him to keep me upright. My cunt is throbbing. My nipples are aching. I need…more.
A plea is on my lips, only held back by the memory of Khaos’ growl.
His arms hang by his side, and I take three seconds more before I find the strength I know I have inside me and step back.
Without looking at Khaos, I lick my lips and speak. “Can you sort out the rest of dinner?”
“I’ll get someone on it,” Khaos says gently.
I walk stiffly out of the room and head to my bedroom. Getting ready is something I do slowly, taking my time to prepare myself, and then I go out and get into the truck, Khaos sitting beside me.
“Are the others sitting this out?”
“I think it’s for the best.”
I start the truck and pull out of the drive, heading into town.
“You can’t encourage them,” Khaos says.
I whip my head in his direction, sure I misheard him.
“I’m not encouraging them.”
“You are, maybe you don’t mean to. But they can’t help but want you. But if you want this to work, you can’t form attachments with them.”
“I hear you, Khaos.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. No attachments. Got it.”
“Good.”
We fall silent until we get to town. “I’ll park here. I’m meeting, what’s this guy’s name? Frank? Yeah, Frank in that café.”
I breathe through my nose and loosen my fingers on the steering wheel.
“Why are you so nervous?”
“Uh, because I don’t date, and you keep setting me up with weirdos. Just wondering what disaster is on the menu today.” I glare at him and push open my door. I take a deep breath and slip out of the truck.
I can tell instantly that none of the pack are here. The town has a whole feel when they are present. My nerves twang, though, and I hesitate when I normally wouldn’t. The memory of Jonas’ rage has me gun-shy.
I walk into the café, looking for the man I dimly remember from the photos. He stands up when he sees me, his eyes running over me, and his expression closing off.
I take the seat he offers, wincing inwardly as he steps back. His eyes light up when another woman walks past though, following her as she walks through the café.
Ah, I get it. I lean back in my chair and watch him carefully. I should be annoyed to be wasting my time, but it gives me some breathing room from the oppressive scents and sounds of the pack.
“So, uh. I can see you’re pretty nervous,” he says quietly, still not quite looking at me.
“Yep. I don’t do this.”
