“He’s so weird,” Ramsay murmured with a smile.
“He is,” I said. “But I like him anyway.”
“Me too.”
“You’re not supposed to like him. I am,” I teased.
“Well, I don’t meanthatway.” Ramsay grinned and tipped his forehead against mine. He pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “The only person I like that way is you.”
My face burned hotter than the sunlight beating down on me.
Ramsay licked his lips. “Do you want me to prove it again?”
“No!” I shrieked. “Not here. I don’t want sand up my butt.”
He laughed and leaned back. “So that’s the part you’re objecting to? Not the fact that we’d be doing it dirty while Colt’s right over there getting lunch for us?”
“Well, that too,” I mumbled.
I didn’t want to admit it out loud, but the idea of Colton watching Ramsay and I fool around sparked a kindle of lust in my belly.
Ramsay watched my expression with a quirked brow, like he knew what I was thinking. But he didn’t press any further.
“Better start that fire before Colt really does turn into a polar bear and rip my head off,” Ramsay said, getting to his feet.
As Ramsay and Colton were both occupied by their respective tasks, I sat there curled up on the sand with my knees to my chest. Despite everything, a sense of pleasant calm came over me. Right now I wasn’t thinking about the prophecy or gryphons or inter-pack drama. Right now I only cared about having a fun time with my two good friends.
Though Ramsay isn’t just a friend anymore,I admitted to myself.And technically, Colton isn’t either…
I recalled how he’d popped up behind me in the lake and touched me, wet skin to wet skin. That brief encounter had been enough to excite me. I turned my head towards Colton, still trotting down the shoreline. He already had a few fish held carefully in his jaws.
My heart fluttered.
I remembered Linda’s words about fated mates, and how she had hoped Ramsay was mine. And at the time, I did too.
But what if my fated mate was Colton? Or even Eric? How was I supposed to choose?
A muted voice in the back of my mind purred:What if I don’t have to?
My thoughts were broken as Ramsay slumped next to me with a satisfied grunt. “Fire’s ready,” he said.
In my trance, I hadn’t even noticed the sound of crackling wood or the scent of smoke until now. I glanced at the fire Ramsay had whipped up. It was a little rough, just some dry branches and rocks to keep it contained, but it worked.
“That’s definitely a step up from your quote unquote treehouse,” I remarked.
He stuck his tongue out at me. “You make the next one, then.”
“No, that’s okay.” I raised a brow. “I like when you do it. You’re good with your hands.”
A sly grin slipped over his face. “That so?”
“Yup.”
Colton padded up to us and shifted, then laid his haul on the flat surface of a rock jutting out of the sand.
Ramsay whistled. “You caught all those?”
“Yes.” Colton sat next to me. “I wasn’t sure what kind of fish you liked, Matheson, so I got plenty of different species.”
