“You could never annoy me, Van. I’d help you with anything, anytime.”
“You might regret saying that,” I tell him, knowing myself and how many questions I’ll probably be asking him.
Instead of looking worried, he gives me that adorably sweet smile of his and says, “Try me. Ask me as many questions as you need or want. I guarantee you’ll never see even a slightly irritated look on my face about it.”
“Okay.” I lift my helmet, but before I slide it onto my head, I say, “I’m really glad you said that because I already have a few things I need to ask you about, but first we need to eat. I’m starving.”
“Deal,” he says, pulling his own helmet on.
I’m not sure where he’s taking me, and I don’t care. I just know that for the next several minutes our bodies are going to be smushed together and at the end of it there will be food. That’s good enough for me. After he’s sitting, he turns his hidden face to look at me and motions for me to get on behind him. I’m sure he’s laughing behind that tinted visor at my eagerness, but I can never seem to play it cool when I’m around him. Within seconds, I’m on the bike with my arms wrapped snuggly around his impossibly hard abs and my chest pressed as tightly against his back as I can get.
For one horrible moment I worry that I’ve gone too far, but instead of prying my fingers apart and demanding space, I feel the heat of his skin against mine as he squeezes my hand. The touch is slow and lingering, a brush of his thumb along my skin like he’s savoring the feel of me, and when I squeeze his finger like I did before, I swear I feel his body relax even more against mine. He gives me one more caress before starting the bike and pulling out onto the road.
I hadn’t even noticed the small crowd outside the Alpha house, but when we pass by, all eyes are on us. I ignore them. I have nothing but bad memories associated with the frat, and I’d love it if I could go through life without ever seeing any of them again. When I think about how close I’d come to being roofied by one of the bastards, a shudder runs through me followed by a massive wave of guilt at the fact that Cindy accidentally took the drink that was meant for me. Sasha got to her in time, but it was close, and I’ll never stop feeling guilty about it.
Niki’s hand rests on mine again, giving it a reassuring squeeze as if he can sense everything I’m feeling, and that small touch is enough to get me to relax. All through the ride, every time his hand is free, he’s touching me, and by the time he turns off the busy road, I feel drunk on him. Completely and absolutelyintoxicated by this man. I’m so focused on him that it takes me a second to realize we’re pulling into an underground parking garage to an apartment building and not into the parking lot of a restaurant.
He pulls into a reserved spot near a corner elevator and cuts the engine. When he gives my leg a little pat, I get off the bike and as soon as I’ve pulled the helmet free, I look around and ask, “Where are we?”
Pulling his own helmet off, he gives me a crooked smile and says, “I know this looks bad, but I thought we could order in.” He gestures around us. “I live here.”
“You brought me to your home?” I ask, smiling when he gets embarrassed and runs a hand through his hair.
“I just thought it would be easier, you know? You said you had questions, and this way I’ll be able to answer them.” I swear he blushes a little bit when he adds, “Plus, I kind of already ordered the food and it’ll be here in fifteen minutes. If you’d rather do something else, though,” he starts to say, but I quickly cut him off.
“What did you order?”
“Two steaks, loaded baked potatoes, and a couple of house salads.”
I pretend to think for a few seconds before finally nodding and saying, “I do really love steak.”
“I was banking on that,” he says, giving me a hint of that sexy smile of his.
“You know I love Cindy like a sister, but I will never have her willpower when it comes to being a vegetarian.”
“Bacon,” is all Niki says, and it’s all he needs to say because that one word says it all.
“Exactly,” I tell him and then follow his lead when he heads towards the lone elevator in the corner. I watch as he presses his thumb to a scanner and then lifts his face to the corner. Idon’t see anything, but after a brief pause, the doors open and he motions for me to step in.
“What just happened?” I ask when he gets in after me. Before he can even push any of the buttons, he presses his thumb to yet another sensor so it will unlock for him. I turn my head to look at him. “Are you paranoid or are people just always trying to kill you?”
He leans against the side of the elevator and shrugs. “A little bit of both, I guess. My parents live in the penthouse here, so they use this elevator too. I’m in charge of all the security, and I’d rather be paranoid than risk someone getting hurt.”
The elevator stops at the floor below the penthouse, and when we step out, I notice the way he quickly scans the hall to make sure it’s clear. His hand briefly rests on my lower back as he guides me in the right direction, and soon we’re standing outside his door and I’m suddenly very nervous and very excited. I want to know more about him, and being surrounded by his things will help me with that.
Once we’re inside, I don’t even bother trying to hide my curiosity. I step into the large living room, greedily running my eyes over everything. There’s a large sectional couch that looks designed purely for comfort, the kind of thing you could lay down on and never want to get back up from, and across from it is a huge, flat-screen TV that nearly covers the wall. It’s an open floor plan, and the kitchen doesn’t look like he spends a bunch of time there. It’s spotless and filled with high-end appliances, but nothing personal. I have a feeling he mainly eats out or orders in. Aside from some gaming equipment, there’s not much lying around. I’m guessing he has an entire room devoted to his tech stuff.
The place feels comfortable, and there’s no denying it’s gorgeous with all the floor-to-ceiling windows and amazing views of the city, but my favorite thing about it are the photosthat he has decorating the walls and tucked into frames on every available surface. He’s filled his home with the people he cares about, and I love that about him.
Spotting a photo of him, I step closer and pick up the frame. He’s holding Lyra, his brother’s little girl, and I take a few seconds to appreciate how gorgeous he looks holding a baby. She looks so tiny in his muscled, tattooed arms, and when I manage to pull my eyes away, I look over to find him staring at me just as intently as I’d been devouring the image of him.
“I love all your family photos,” I say to try and cover all the things I’m feeling. I grab the next photo, the one of Niki when he’s much younger and surrounded by all of his cousins. “This is great. You’re so lucky to have such a big family.”
He walks over, glancing at the photo I’m holding. A smile tugs at his lips at whatever memory it brings up. “It’s amazing we all got along so well.” He points a finger at Val and Yel. The two of them are a tad bit off to the side, arms slung around each other’s shoulders with big smiles on their faces. “Some of us more than others.”
I laugh and put the frame back where it was. “So they were the only two who got a little curious?”
“God, yes,” he says with a laugh. “I wouldn’t even say they got curious. They just knew. They’ve always been in love. The rest of us always felt like siblings.” He looks back at the photo and cringes at the idea. “Definitely just those two. Nat, Mia, Sveta, and Yel have always felt like sisters to me.”
