“What?”
“Lip gloss comes in a tube with a wand and it’s sticky.” She holds the tin about two inches from my nose. “This is salve. See? It says it right on the label. It’s supposed to make your lips soft. Gloss just makes you look slutty and your hair gets stuck in it.”
I snort a laugh. “We’ll have to see if it works.” I press start and put the car in gear, stretching my arm behind the passenger headrest and turning to check the rear.
“If what works?”
“If it makes your lips soft.” I check both ways as I pull out of the parking lot.
“Oh, maybe you’d rather have the slutty gloss?.”
She’s smiling, and I’m laughing as I take us home.
Chapter twenty-five
Pierce
“You’renotcomingin?”Beckett has one leg out of my pickup.
“Unlike you, pretty boy, I have to work for a living.” He laughs at our long-standing joke. We both know he actually works harder than both Liam and I combined.
“Are you going to be home for dinner?” Beckett steps all the way out of the truck, but grips the roof, still leaning into the cab.
My heart staggers. I’m not dumb enough to think a hot blow job with a dash of “getting caught” kink on top is going to solve all our problems. I’m terrified of his answer.
“Do you want me home?”
“I do.”
He doesn’t need to add “we need to talk” or “you’re an asshole” or the billion other things I beat myself up with every day.
“Don’t let anyone punch you today.” His smile is so fucking gorgeous, despite a touch of sadness in it.
“Want me to circle back for that ball gag prescription?” I lean further into the passenger seat and point over my shoulder.
His face goes serious for a second, making my heart stop.
“I don’t think you could handle a ball gag. You talk too much.”
“Oh, don’t fucking dare me.”
He knocks twice on the roof and shuts the door. I watch him walk over to the driveway and then up the little path to the front door, because god forbid he actually walk on the lawn. I don’t pull away until he’s in the house.
I drive three blocks and slam on my brakes in front of the last house in the neighborhood that still has its holiday lights up. I scrub my face and curse so loudly the lady walking her dog across the street turns to look at me. I gently touch my nose. My front teeth are sore and my eyeballs hurt. I can manage the pain, but the fact that I can’t catch Beckett or Liam’s scent is so fucking disorienting.
I lean my head back gently on the headrest and do that box-breathing shit. Maybe I should let Blake’s girlfriend do some yoga classes at Metal Heads.
I touch my nose again and wince, then throw the truck back into drive.
Alexei’s house is only about ten minutes away but definitely a showier neighborhood. The kind with the little shack a security guard chills in. I swear he spray paints his lawn to get it this bright green in winter. The house is sprawling and gaudy with gold accents and aggressive security cameras.
Liam’s work is always discreet, but when Alexei contracted him for the security setup, Alexei fought him and won, saying the best deterrent was a strong offense or some shit. Everything is custom and is housed in a panic room in the basement. Paranoid fucker.
Sandra opens the door and purrs my name to cover a mild flash of panic. “We’re not doing workouts at home now, are we?”
“Your quads are safe from me. Alexei home?”
“Sure, Sugar. He’s out back. Let me walk you through.”
