Page 29 of Pack Apollo

"It's okay," I tell him "We were sort of caught up in the moment. I'm clean, too."

"Whew," he says, wiping a fake bead of sweat off his forehead. "Glad we're responsible adults and all."

The joking has me laughing again before I flip over and crawl up the rest of the way onto the bed and under the covers. Palmer follows suit and gets underneath with me as I hold it open for him. We are both asleep in a matter of minutes, me tucked tightly in his arms.

Sometime in the night, I get a tickle in the back of my throat that wakes me up. I try to cough lightly as to not disturb Palmer who appears to be in a hardcore doze at my side. After the third cough, I get up as quietly as possible. The first shirt I come to on the floor is his, and I can only tell by his strong scent that wafts off of it as I pull it on. Then I set about trying to find my jeans. Instead of those, my fingers close around my panties. Flicking a glance at the door, I decide to take the risk of just sliding those on and continuing my quest to find my pants. It's super late into the night now, and everyone should still be sleeping.

Another tickle sends me running to the door as quickly as I dare as to not make much noise. Thankfully, it doesn't even do so much as squeak as I open it and slip out. The window on the top front of the house across from the chandelier lets in enoughlight from the street lights to make it easy enough to see going down the stairs.

My bare feet don't slap the hardwood floor as I all but tiptoe through the house. Though, there's no one down here to wake up, so I don't know why I'm bothering being so quiet.

As I round the corner into the kitchen, my stealthiness almost becomes moot as a dark figure leaning against the counter scares the daylight out of me. Grabbing my chest, I'm pretty proud of myself for not screaming.

"Did I frighten you?" Roz asks, taking a drink from the bottle in his hand.

I could lie to him, but he likely already knows the answer to his question anyway since I'm certain he can scent my fear.

"Only a little," I confess. "I just needed to come down for a drink of water. Sorry if I disturbed you."

"You didn't," he says.

"Surprised you then?"

"Not really," he replies.

The silence drags on for a minute or two, making things borderline awkward. before he says, "No matter what you may have been told, we don't fall easy and we certainly don't trust easily. Don't hurt us, Billie. Don't hurt my pack."

His first hurt request sounded vulnerable. The second one sounded like a threat. That fear spikes through my chest.

When he moves, I don't flinch. Even when he's standing close enough to touch. Reaching out, he slides a finger down my jaw and then under to lift my face to him. "Please don't be afraid of me. I will never give you reason to fear."

With that his lips close over mine, and I do fear. But not for the reasons he thinks. I fear that I am now so deeply connected to this pack that they won't be the ones in pain in the end. It's going to me.No risk, no reward,I tell myself, kissing him back.

Chapter Nine

By the time the weekend rolls around again, it's time for work. Thursday night is a full house, but by Friday night the bar is packed to the max and then some. I'd like to think that it has something to do with the posts I've been making that's gaining a ton of traction. My last video for the bar had over a million views. I've only had to make two for the other company, so it hasn't taken off yet. I'm sure I'll be able to get it to hit as big as I did here with the right content.

I feel like I've been dancing for hours and am sweating from all of the body heat in the place. Yet, it doesn't stop people from wanting to drink. Two guys dressed in nice suits somehow manage to squeeze themselves into the two seats at the end of the bar. Hell, by the looks of them, they probably paid the previous occupants off to get their seats.

As I make my way down the line, filling drink orders, I finally make it to them. The dark-haired one who kind of has a ‘resting man-bitch’ face yells out asking for a beer. When I look to his friend so that I can retrieve their orders together, I startle so much that I almost drop the glass in my hand that I'm passing over the counter around Trinity's feet. There's something so achingly familiar about him. I could swear that I've seen him somewhere before. It's in his eyes.

He calls out his order and I have to ask him to repeat himself because I'm so distracted. I fetch their drinks and scoot them across the counter, exchanging them for the cash dark hair is sliding to me.

"Damn, Daryl," dark hair exclaims loud enough to be heard. "That girl looks just like you."

We look at each other for a few seconds, before I start to feel uncomfortable and look away. Not before I see his head tilt sideways slightly like he's thinking about something.

I try to make my way to the other side of the counter, but I keep getting stopped by orders, keeping me down their way. And the dark-haired man just won't shut up, no matter how much he's being ignored by literally everyone around him. Like bro, read the damn room.

"I swear to God," he's yelling. "She could be your damn daughter. That'd be hilarious, too. Big bad Daryl the D with a daughter dancing for men for money."

"Let's go," the man named Daryl shouts at his friend, giving him a hard push off his stool and parting the crowd in the process.

"Are you okay?" Trinity asks from up on the bar.

I nod affirmation, and go back to filling orders. It isn't until an hour or so later that I start thinking about it again. Probably has something to do with one of the men showing back up. The calm familiar friend sits in the same seat as before and patiently waits for me to make my way over to him.

He motions for me to lean over to him. "I'm sorry about the man I was in here with earlier. He's an idiot and has no manners. Especially when he starts drinking."

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