I merely rolled my eyes and sat down. I pressed the same button on my own chair, a contented sigh escaping my lips as my seat reclined. “Good fuck, I’m tired tonight. Double shifts suck.”
Rune leaned his own seat back and then tipped his head to eye my profile. “Are you hungry?”
“I’m too tired to eat.” I yawned, showing all of my teeth, not bothering to cover my mouth. “Where are we headed first?”
Mr. Wood sat down on the seat across the aisle from us, that chair made for his size—I had noticed it was larger than the others. The man had muscles bulging on every nook on his body. He grumbled, “God’s house first. We’ll drop both of them there.”
I blinked in surprise. “Cassander lives there too?”
“No, he stays with Finn, but for the past month, he’s been sleeping at God’s house too.” His mouth snapped shut, and his eyes caught mine. “Keep that to yourself. Poppy doesn’t know he’s there.”
I lifted my black brows. “Weird. But I’ll keep quiet.”
His eyes roamed my features, apparently looking for the truth. When he appeared to find it, he nodded and held out his massive paw. “I’m Alaric, by the way.”
“I’m Megan.” I shook his hand.
A soft feminine moan flittered from behind us.
All three of us froze solid.
Until Mr. Wood glanced back, and his expression softened upon what he saw. “Hey there. You’re fine. Don’t worry.”
A grouchy answer—and slurred, “How the hell did I get here?”
Alaric pointed in my direction. “Megan’s in front of you with Rune. She called us when you and Cass passed out.”
“Damn,” Poppy murmured. Burped. “I think I drank too much.”
My lips trembled, and I slapped a hand over my mouth. I was extremely happy she couldn’t see the way my shoulders bounced with hilarity. I somehow doubted the headstrong Poppy Carvene would appreciate me laughing at her in her time of distress. Because anyone who drinks like that is dealing with some heavy shit.
I glanced over at Rune, and he wasn’t faring any better. He was biting his fist, his face turning an awful shade of red, and his eyes were watering as he tried not to laugh out loud. This was a man I could really get along with, even outside of sexy times.
A masculine groan vibrated in the air behind us, and then a shuffling creaked the seat.
“Cass,” Poppy suddenly whined. “Cass, get your arm off me. You’re going to make me puke.”
“What the…,” Cassander shouted. Then acrunchsounded, the noise remarkably like a body slamming against the side of the train. “Shit! What the fuck?”
Another feminine moan, then I held my breath at the unmistakable sound of puking.
I pinched my nose when I ran out of air and peered back and forth between my sober traveling companions, speaking with my nose plugged. “Thank fuck for self-cleaning trains, right?”
Rune lost it then, his laughter tickling my ears like an angel’s song.
