Page 39 of Accidentally Forever

Hawk hums against my temple. “If you think any of us are letting you two go,” the grip on my waist tightens, his fingers pressing into my skin like he’s making sure I feel it, “you’re mistaken.”

Twisting in Hawk’s lap, I shift to face them all, studying the way they lounge so effortlessly, as if they’ve always belonged here, as if they were built for this moment, for the slow claiming of something neither of us ever thought we’d have. “Violet is stubborn.”

Lance chuckles under his breath, shaking his head like he already knew that, like it isn’t even worth saying aloud. Of course, she’s stubborn. It’s in her bones, in the way she carries herself, in the way she has spent years holding the world together with nothing but sheer fucking will.

“She’ll push,” I add. “She doesn’t always let people take care of her because she’s had to do it herself for so long. And even now, even with all of you…” A slow sigh escapes, heavy with something I don’t quite know how to name. “She might not break down so easily. You have to show her that she doesn’t always have to be in control.”

It feels like everything halts and then I catch Puma’s grin, a slow, dangerous thing. “Sweetheart,” his voice is low, a promise and a threat wrapped up in one. “I love a challenge.”

That’s what Violet is to him—a puzzle worth solving, a wall worth breaking down piece by piece. And he’s already worked his way under her skin, just enough to make her hesitate, just enough to make her falter in all the ways she never allows herself to. She’s cracking. And I love watching it.

“Rest,” he says simply, changing the direction of the conversation. “You’ll still be sore for a little while.” His gaze flicks toward Hawk, then to Lance, something sharp glinting behind his eyes, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips. “But I’m sure the twins would love to pamper you.”

Heat flares in my face, creeping up my neck, searing against my skin. “Wait—”

Too late.

Hawk moves faster than I expect, grabbing me like a goddamn caveman again, lifting me effortlessly before slinging me over his shoulder. A startled squeal rips from my throat, my legs kicking uselessly as I’m thrown into the air like I weigh nothing at all.

“Hawk!” My hands press against his back, fists curling in his shirt, but the laughter bubbling up from my chest betrays me. “Put me down, you menace!”

Lance is already cracking up, leaning back in his seat, watching the scene unfold like it’s the best entertainment he’s had all week.

“Lance! Save me!”

His grin unapologetic. “Oh, sweetheart, I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Chapter thirty-three

GRAY

Violet’s hand is small in mine, familiar despite the years that stretched between us. The distance never really erased her touch, never dulled the way it felt to have her close, to have her fingers curled around mine like they belong there. Puma told me to spoil her and I plan to take that very seriously. After this meeting, she’s mine for the day. No distractions. No interruptions. No walls between us. Just her.

She’s been talking about Temple during the drive over to our client—Nolan, about her best friend and the pack that took Camila in. There’s warmth in her voice when she speaks about it, a soft kind of affection, but there’s something else beneath it. Pain. She’s good at hiding it but I see it.

The slight falter in her voice when she mentions Camila’s pack. The way her fingers tighten around mine, just for a second, like she’s steadying herself. The careful way she picks her words, like she doesn’t want to say too much, like she doesn’t want me to hear what’s underneath them. It’s a reminder of everything she didn’t have. Everything she had to fight for.

The last few months, it’s been her and Sofie against the world. That much is obvious. The weight of it still lingers in the way she moves, in the way she holds herself just a little too tightly, in the way she watches people like she’s waiting for the moment they let her down.

I want to ask. I want to dig into it, break it apart, learn everything that happened when I wasn’t there. Every hardship. Every battle. Every fucking moment she thought she was alone. But just as I open my mouth, she beats me to it. “Enough about me.” She squeezes my hand, teasing, but there’s an edge of something real beneath it. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

An eyebrow lifts, a smirk playing on my lips. “You mean about me?”

She rolls her eyes, flashing a grin. “Obviously, dumbass.”

A chuckle rumbles in my chest and I drag my thumb along her knuckles, tracing the fine lines there, memorizing the feel of them. “Alright, let’s see…”

There’s so much I could tell her. That I thought about her more times than I should have. That her scent haunted me long after that weekend, long after she walked away. That I want her in my bed, in my pack, in my goddamn life.

But instead, my smirk lingers, and I say, “I learned how to make the perfect Old Fashioned.”

She snorts, shaking her head, eyes glinting with amusement. “That is the most Gray answer I’ve ever heard.”

"There’s nothing exciting about my life," I say after a beat, rolling my shoulders, trying to shake off the weight of the last few years. "Just me and my half-brother a few cities over. We talk sometimes, but he’s caught up in hockey and college, and I’m caught up in work."

Violet’s eyebrows lift, her surprise genuine. "You have a brother?"

I huff a quiet laugh. "Surprised?"

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