Page 164 of Sawyer

“I guess all four of us have that in common.” I let the swing glide us by lifting my feet. The sensation is comforting.

“What’s that? Dying?”

“Family trauma.” Our families all share that same old-school mentality that’s toxic and broken, not to mention outdated. Packs aren’t just for breeding. They are created out of love for each other, something that should grow over time.

Biology and pheromones bring us together, and hell, they did just that, but now it’s up to us to find common ground.

I’m already head over heels for Sawyer, and I am quickly becoming interested in Sin, and I also see the way Bryn watches him. This brings me to Superman himself. He’s the brother I always wanted—a partner, a best friend, and hell, just someone to watch my back.

“What’s your favorite food?” he asks, jarring me out of my thoughts with the most random question. He’s been doing this for the last couple of weeks, learning about us by asking random questions.

“That’s a tough answer.”

“Just don’t say meat and potatoes.” His smirk allows the dimples in his chin to stand out.

“I think after the last month of my cooking nights, you’d realize that meat and potatoes have yet to be on the menu.” Even so, I roll his question around in my head. “I like dessert.”

“Interesting.” He hums. “I love bread, all kinds of bread, but I prefer crusty bread I can dip into a sauce.”

“Fondue.”

He moans, and it’s absolutely salacious. “Can we do fondue tonight? Who is cooking tonight?”

“I am.” I rise from the swing and check my watch. “It’s time.”

“Are you ready for this?” Bryn asks.

“No.” I look over my shoulder at him, seeing the same indecisiveness in his eyes that must mirror my own. “It needs to happen.”

“Let’s go, you assholes,” Sin calls from the door, demanding attention. He’s acting more feminine lately, wearing long, flowing pants and tight shirts, though his hair is a Mohawk mullet. It’s the oddest haircut, but it fits him. Since his father’s death, he’s emerged from the shadow he cast over him.

I only hope that Sawyer can emerge from that shadow someday as well, and when she does, we will all be here waiting for her.

Speaking of, our beautiful mate steps out of the house, and just as she has over the last month, surprise gleams in her hazel eyes at seeing that Bryn and I are still here. She has yet to realize we aren’t going anywhere.

I promised her, and I will keep that promise.

Her long hair is piled on her head in a messy bun, and today, she’s wearing a pink crop top with high-waisted leggings. She looks more like herself than she has in weeks, minus the thick black frames perched on her nose.

I can’t say I hate the glasses though. They look sexy on her, like she’s my perfect geek, and damn if it doesn’t make me hard.

Her cheeks blush as though she can read my thoughts, and she tips her head down. It’s the first time she’s responded to a heated gaze. Healing looks different for everyone. As her partner, I am responsible for watching, observing, and figuring out what she needs without her voicing it.

Some males find it hard to read their mates, but I don’t.

Sawyer loves to sleep in and burrow beneath the covers, even when she’s wide awake. She is slow to wake in the morning, and when one of us feels her stir, we make her coffee. Though she ate little over the last month, her hunger has slowly returned this week.

I made sure she had a well-balanced diet.

“Why don’t you look at me like that?” Sin pouts.

I turn to Bryn, who looks back at me. Nerves flutter in my stomach. Neither of us wants to push Sawyer, but Sin…

We will willingly push Sin.

As one, Bryn and I look at Sin. I project all the desire I’ve been bottling up into that one heated look. My mouth parts, and my breath stutters in my chest as I imagine him on his knees before Bryn with me behind him.

“There it is,” Sin purrs and saunters over to us. “I would love to be the meat between your two buns, but” —he places a hand on both our chests— “Sawyer is going to be late.”

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