Instinct.
Predator recognizing another predator between him and his mate.
I take one step closer.
Finn straightens.
Wren senses it instantly — she looks between us with a nervous flicker of her gaze.
“Guys?”she whispers.“What’s—”
“Nothing,” I say.
“Nothing,” Finn echoes.
Liars.
Both of us.
I force myself back a step.Not for Finn.Not for the team.
For her.
I clear my throat.“I, uh—” The words choke.I swallow.“I...was going to bring you coffee.”
Her eyes widen slightly.“You were?”
I nod.
She smiles again.“That’s...sweet.”
Sweet.
Nobody uses that word about me.
Ever.
My throat tightens.“Didn’t make it there in time.”
Finn’s jaw flexes.
He knows exactly what I mean.
Wren doesn’t.
She just looks confused.“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know.”
I take a breath.
“But I wanted to.”
Her cheeks flush.
Just a little.
Just enough to undo me.