Derek scoffs. “Prove it.”
Arlo gawks at him. “Excuse me?”
Derek tips his chin in my direction. It’s a strong chin. Would probably hurt if I put my fist in it, but mayhap it would be worth the pain. “Prove this is the real deal, Lo.”
“And how do you propose I do that?”
“Kiss him.”
My heart drops into my stomach.
My wolf, though? He howls in triumph.
Chapter 8
Arlo
Kiss him.
Kiss Gunnar.
Were we an actual couple, I’d be sucking on Gunnar’s face right now.
But we’re not. Gunnar hasn’t been on a date in years, he told me. Not since he lost his lover. He was uncomfortable with one-on-one conversations, and I can’t imagine he would feel any differently about kissing someone. Unless maybe he’s more comfortable with physical intimacy?
“E-excuse me?” The nerve of this arsehole! I have been friends with Derek for years, and at times like this, when he’s showing his whole bloody arse, I can’t justify why.
Derek leans across the table, his glare penetrating me down to my soul. “Kiss him. You only ever kiss guys you’re serious about. So, if you’re really serious about him, prove it.”
“Too far, Derek,” Imogen says.
“Agreed, you’re way over the line, bruv.” Rodney glares at him.
“I don’t have to prove anything to you,” I say, outrage burning my cheeks. “And neither does Gunnar!” How dare he? Maybe Derek won’t be the lifelong friend I’d hoped he would be.
“It’s all right, Lo.” A warm, calloused hand cups my cheek. The breath gets stuck in my chest when Gunnar lifts my face toward his. “If you’d like to give your friends a demonstration of just how passionate we can be, I’m all for it.”
He… is? My heart starts to race. Just when I thought he’d surely be uncomfortable, he goes and surprises me. The sexy bastard. I wet my lower lip. “I’m game if you are, darling.”
Is this really happening? Surely he’s toying with me.
Then warm lips brush mine, soft in contrast to the calloused fingers rasping over my cheek. My mind goes blank, like the blue screen of death on old computers. Gunnar is kissing me. It’s… tender, slow, cautious. Not something I would expect from a man who looks like he spends weeks out in the wild away from civilization. But it’s so him. Unexpected, sweet, gentle.
I feel like a sunflower to his sunlight, basking in his warmth after months of cloudy skies. I can hardly be blamed for melting against him, for surrendering so completely to this man who’s the opposite of everything I expected—everything I’d feared wolf shifters could be.
Gunnar hums low in his throat, cupping my face between his hands like I’m water in the desert and he’s dying of thirst. He kisses me until my lips tingle, nipping and sucking with an eagerness that makes me realize I was completely wrong in my assumption. This man hasn’t been kissed in a long time, and what a damn shame that is. His lips were made to be bitten, licked, worshipped until he’s out of breath.
Someone wolf-whistles, and it’s then I remember we have an audience. I lurch away from Gunnar, face burning. Imogen’s grinning. Rodney’s eating popcorn, though I don’t have a cluewhen he ordered that, and Derek looks like he tasted something foul.
I clear my throat and make myself smirk. “Convinced yet? Because I’d gladly go on.”
Derek raises both hands. “I got it. Sorry I was a dick. I’m just, you know…” He kicks my foot under the table.
“I know,” I tell him. He’s looking out for me, and after what happened, I can’t quite fault him for that.
“You two are good for each other.” Rodney snaps his fingers. “Hey! How about we play at your wedding?”
A smile breaks across my face. “Really?”
