“Yeah.” I work hard to come up with a smirk. “Just a friendly warning.”
“Between colleagues? Kinksters? Fellow campers?”
The smirk drops off my face like a ton of bricks. We’re not just colleagues or fellow campers and she damn well knows it. She feels this thing between us as solidly as I do. She has to. “Between spouses,” I say to remind her that what’s between us is something else.
“Whatever.” She sighs and rolls her eyes and every single cell in my body wants to pick her up and take her somewhere private and show her… Fuck, I don’t know. Show her who she belongs to, I guess.
“I don’t need your approval, Zed. For anything.”
“I know,” I admit through gritted teeth. “So long as you’re sure.”
“I am.” Her brows lift high. Otherwise, she doesn’t move at all, just waits.
“Kidnapping it is, then.” I force another smile to my face, this one as slow and mean as I can make it.
“Yes.”
I nod. “All righty then.”
“Okay.” She half turns to where her friends wait, her eyes flicking back to me. “I’ll just…”
“Yep. Go ahead.” I give her a salute. “I’ll see you in there.”
“Wait, are you… Never mind. I’ll just…” She points a thumb over her shoulder and does an awkward shuffle and she’s so goddamn beautiful I have to fight the unfamiliar urge to lean down and hug her.
“Yep. I’ve got work to do.” My attention focuses over her shoulder at where Max and Grace are milling around, pretending not to listen. “Glad you’re in good hands. Hey!” I project. “Thank y’all for showing my wife around. Don’t let her get into too much trouble, will you? Least not until I get back.”
Max shakes her head, hiding a smile and Grace waves me off with an eye roll. Right. Message received. I get it and they get it, though Twyla might not.She matters, the message says, loud and clear.Keep her safe.
Just as she casts me one last frown and heads over to them, a thought occurs to me. “Where you stayin’? You in a cabin or something?”
She hesitates. Probably figures I’ll get the information one way or another, and gives in. “Lamé’s.”
“Of course. Have fun.” And then, because I really like messing with her, I say, “I’ll head back over when I get done.”
“No need. I’ve got company.” With one last glare, she heads into the hangar, arms linked with her new friends’.
I watch, trying hard to feel nothing.
To remember that I may want her, but I don’tneedher.
I’m not like Liev. I’m not part of a pack. I don’t get to have a partner and I definitely don’t need a family. I’ve known that all my life. Since the first time I saw a mom lean down and pick up her little boy and kiss him on the cheek, as if that’s just what people do. Not my people. But people.
This place is as close to a family as I’ve ever gotten and, even here, I’m just skimming the surface. The families, networks, relationships of all kinds—I’m just coasting on all the love they feel for each other.
None of it’s for me, though.
And that’s fine. I’m solid. Not made of stone, like Liev, but something flexible. I’m strong as a wire, twisting, bending, but never breaking.
I watch her go and the moment she gets swallowed up by the crowd, it’s like everything comes back—the smells of sweat and summer, the sound of screams and thumping music. It hits me with a painful blast, every note a spike to my head, unbearable until I catch one last shimmer of that fucking top, and then—what the hell’s happening to me?—the near-silence is so much worse.
In the silence, there’s no ignoring the voice telling me to go after her. To get her. To make her mine, no matter what it takes. No matter how much it hurts. It’s chantingmine, mine, mine, although it might as well be sayinghome, home, home, and that’s pure fucking delusion.
I blink down at the rough ground, shoulders heavy, vision out of focus, and I understand, in this moment, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I’m broken. Beyond repair.
Heavy with that knowledge, I cast one longing look inside the hangar before setting off, back to the clubhouse.
I’ve got work to do, dammit. No time to sit around trying to think my way through this clusterfuck I’ve created.
