Morgan’s nervous. I can feel it. I don’t want to call him out on it, because he wouldn’t thank me for bringing that up where everyone can hear. And I can already sense Mal and Flint getting closer.
Sure enough, about ten seconds later, they appear around the side of the house.
“Did we miss anything?” Flint asks, rubbing his hands.
“No.” Callum gestures at the car driving slowly towards us. “Ash just got here.”
“Excellent.” Flint grins as he and Mal take a seat on top of the picnic bench.
Morgan glances back over his shoulder, eyes narrowed as he directs a pointed look at Callum, then Flint and Mal. “Be nice.Please.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Mal has a glint to his eyes that I’m pretty fucking sure spells trouble.
The four of us watch Ash’s car approach, finally coming to a stop beside Morgan. He gets out and immediately pulls Morgan into a hug. I swallow down the instinct to growl. This is his best friend. I need to get used to the idea of Ash touching him if I don’t want to piss Morgan off.
I catch Callum’s smirk out of the corner of my eye. “Fuck off,” I mutter, making him laugh.
The sound catches both Morgan’s and Ash’s attention. He pulls back from the hug and glances over at us. We’re still far enough away that Ash assumes we can’t hear him if he whispers.
“What’s going on, Mor?” Ash looks our way again, frowning, and either it’s my imagination or his gaze lingers on Callum.
I glance at Callum to see if he noticed too and get a death glare in return. Oh yeah, he noticed. I’m not sure whether to laugh or groan.
Objectively, Ash is a good-looking guy. Taller than Morgan by a couple of inches, broader too. Black hair that’s shaved at the sides and a strong jaw that’s clenched so hard I can see it from here.
“What d’you mean?” Morgan hedges, and I’m not at all surprised by thelookAsh sends him.
“Well, let’s see,” he says quietly, but there’s no mistaking the hurt and frustration in his voice. He knows Morgan well enough to recognise when he’s being evasive. “You said you were going away for a while. But you’re back after a couple of weeks, and instead of coming home or even letting me know that you’re on your way back... you come here instead.” He holds his arms out wide.
His T-shirt is tight enough to reveal a nicely toned body underneath his clothes. He looks like he’s built, enough muscle to manhandle a bloke, if that’s the sort of thing you’re into.
Which Callum is.
I glance at him again, but he’s too focused on Ash to notice me looking.
“So I’ll ask you again,” Ash says, voice rising. “What the fuck is going on?”
I bite back the urge to bare my teeth. I mean, I get why he’s pissed off, but my bond with Morgan is still new enough that I want to snarl at anyone who upsets him.
“Easy, tiger.” Callum’s hand lands on my arm. “He’s just hurting.”
I turn to face him, more than a little surprised that he’s defending Ash.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he scoffs. “Even I can tell he’s worried, not angry.” He glares at me until I sigh.
“I know. It’s just hard.”
“That’s what he said,” Flint says under his breath, and the others laugh.
Morgan sends a glare Flint’s way, then turns back to face Ash. I notice the rise of his chest as he takes a deep breath in.
Here it comes.
“I’ve joined the Wild Wolves.”
We thought it’d be better to tell Ash this first, rather than hit him with the whole shifter thing right off the bat. Judging by his expression, it’s a fucking good job too.
Ash opens his mouth, then closes it again, eyes wide. He looks over at the four of us, gaze lingering like he’s trying to work out if maybe we’re keeping Morgan here by force. He closes his eyes, and I imagine him counting to ten in his head. Then he looks at Morgan, forehead scrunched. “Why?”
