Page 31 of Rocky Top

She walked in like my longin’ brought her to life. My gut tightened the second I caught sight of her. Not in that red-lipped, designer-bag, drama-queen kinda way she usually rocked. Naw. Tonight, she was in skinny jeans and a dark tank top, hair in a loose braid over her shoulder, like she was trying to fit in. Still, big-ass sunglasses were perched up on her head even though the sun had been gone a while.

She still had the nails. The purse too. Gold, loud, and damn near bigger than she was.

And hell if she didn’t look like a whole problem I wanted to solve.

She slid through the crowd, makin’ folks stare without even tryin’. Didn’t belong here one damn bit, and she knew it. But she didn’t let that stop her.

I leaned on the pool table, cue stick in hand, watchin’ her like a wolf with a scent. My beast stirred beneath my skin, restless. Ever since that night in the woods, since I’d saved her ass and bolted before she could put two and two together, I hadn’t been right.

“Rocky,” she called when she spotted me, voice sweet as peach wine.

I nodded and pushed off the table, meetin’ her halfway. “Birdie.”

She smiled up at me, green eyes bright. “I was hopin’ you’d be here.”

“Yeah?” I fought the grin threatenin’ to break loose. “You come to get your boots dirty with the rest of us filthy animals?”

She wrinkled her nose. “You’re only slightly less intimidating when you smile.”

“You only get half a smile ‘cause you still owe me an explanation for why the hell you were campin’ alone.”

She sighed dramatically, flippin’ her braid off her shoulder. “That’s such old news. I already told you, I needed air. I didn’t know it’d come with wildlife horror movie extras. Honestly, I don’t want to even think of it.”

I didn’t laugh. Not even a little. Because Birdie was lying. I could smell that. That rogue from the woods hadn’t shown his face again since I tore into him, but my gut said he wasn’t gone. Not yet.

“You always do dumb shit like that?” I asked.

She frowned. “Like what?”

“Put yourself in danger.”

That got her hackles up. She put a hand on her hip. “I didn’t know I was in danger, okay?”

I swallowed a snort. If only she knew.

“You tell Eliza about the guy you were seein’?” I asked, offhand, like I wasn’t itchin’ to know every damndetail.

Birdie’s brows shot up. “Brent? What does he have to do with anything?”

Brent. “Brent Halston?”

“Yes. What’s it to you?”

Every muscle in my body went still. I knew that name.

Used to run with a sketchy crew outta Georgia, shifters who didn’t play by any rules, not even their own. We’d just run him outta Knoxville two weeks ago after Smokey caught wind he was pokin’ around the school where Eliza worked. Claimed he was lookin’ for someone.

Now I knew who.

“You still talk to him?” I asked, tryin’ to sound casual.

“God, no,” she said, rolling her eyes. “He was a mistake. One of those too-hot, too-smooth, full-of-crap types. You know? He was Mark’s best friend.”

I nodded, taking in this new information. And I also knew Brent was dangerous. Rogue shifter, unclaimed. If he tried to bite her, tried to mark her, he’d have started the shift without her consent. That kinda shit should’ve been a death sentence in our world.

My hands curled into fists.

“I didn’t like the way he looked at me near the end,” she added, voice quieter now. “Like I was something he could own. It creepedme out.”

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