Page 70 of Rocky Top

She nodded, brushing hair outta her face. “Sponsors, donations, brand collabs. Peopleloveweird forest stuff. But I might need a chaperone next time, y’know, in case Chunk gets ideas.”

I chuckled. “You think I’m gonna let you out in them woods again alone after what happened last time?”

“No,” she said, soft but stubborn. “But maybe if you were there…”

I stepped closer, real close, till the tip of her nose nearly touched my chest. “How ‘bout this? I got a run tomorrow night. Gotta drop some ‘shine to Chevy’s contact up by Shady Grove.”

Her eyes lit up. “I wanna come.”

I raised a brow. “It ain’t secret club business. Just shine and backroads.”

“Perfect.” She yawned then, a dainty little thing that made my whole damn wolf twitch.

She turned toward the door, already diggin’ her keys out of that ridiculous glittery purse.

“Hey,” I said, grabbin’ her hand before she could disappear inside. “Wait.”

She looked up, brows raised.

And I kissed her.

Not gentle. Not sweet.

Hungry.

She tasted like marshmallows and mischief, like porchlight summer nights and secrets I wanted to unwrap slowly.

When I finally pulled back, she was breathless, her fingers still grippin’ my cut.

“Rocky,” she whispered, dazed. “That was…”

“Mine,” I muttered. “You’re mine,Birdie Mae.”

She blinked once.

Then she smiled.

And walked into the house like she already knew it.

Chapter 18

Birdie

The night air had a bite to it. Tennessee springs weren’t supposed to be this cold, not in April, but my skin prickled with more than just the breeze as I followed Rocky and a few of his brothers up the dark, winding trail that led to an old moonshiner’s cabin. They were doing a midnight supply drop, something about gear and rations for the club. Normal MC stuff, I guessed. Except nothing in my world had been normal for weeks.

Ever since Rocky showed me what he really was, a damn wolf, not just in spirit but in flesh and fang, I’d been sleepwalking through my days, doing my work from my laptop at Eliza’s or at the Wild Dog with Knox as my babysitter. Then Rocky would show up at night. And no matter how close we got, he let me go back to sleep in Eliza’s guest room every night. There I was wide awake through every dream, heart racing with a cocktail of fear and longing I couldn’t untangle.

“You sure you wanna be here, Birdie?” Rocky asked over his shoulder, voice gruff but laced with that quiet protectiveness I’d come to rely on, even when I hated myself for it.

“I’m not made of glass, Rocky,” I muttered, hugging my hoodie tighter around my body. “I’m not just gonna sit at Eliza’s like some princess while y’all go play soldier in the woods.”

He chuckled low, and the sound sent heat curling through my belly. “Ain’t no princess I ever mettalk like that.”

“I’m not like anyone you’ve ever met,” I said, trying for cocky and maybe landing a little closer to desperate.

That was the last time we joked that night.

The moment we reached the clearing, something felt off. It was too quiet. Not peaceful quiet, not the kind that wrapped around your shoulders like a flannel blanket, but the kind that crawled up your spine and whisperedwrong.

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