The moment she’s gone, the air shifts.
Seraphina’s hand tightens slightly on my thigh.
I turn to her immediately, lifting my hand to her face, my fingers sliding beneath her chin, guiding her to look at me.
Her eyes search mine.
Uncertain.
“It’s okay,” I murmur against her lips.
Then I kiss her.
I kiss her until I feel her soften, until I feel the tension leave her body, until I feel her melt back into herself and into me, until the world narrows back down to what matters.
Her.
When I pull away, her breathing is slower.
Her eyes clearer.
When I glance up, Chace is watching us over the rim of his coffee cup with something dangerously close to amusement.
“So…I should probably tell you…you have about fifteen seconds before you get your ass handed to you by a very, very pissed off blonde. Ten. Nine. Eight.”
Seraphina pales beside me.
“Baby, I would never—” I start.
Nah—she’s fresh as a daisy.
And just as freshly fucked, so I know I’m in her good books.
Pissed-off blondes…
Yeah, there could be a few.
There was that one—I tapped out halfway through, spat on her lower back, told her I was done because she kept making these weird noises.
It got distracting.
Like—are we doing this right now, or am I watching Animal Planet?
“I hate you, Trey Baker…”
Uh-oh, I recognize that tone.
Say something cute before she shanks us with a breakfast fork.
My head whips around.
“Macaroni.”
Well, shit, that failed.
“You die. Both my brothers! DEAD! Then you end up in hospital. Un-fucking-conscious. And you leave me. Without a word!”
“I… I got better?”
