Page 69 of Gather the Storm

“Ah,” he said. “The buzzkill to end all buzzkills.”

“You’re not… I don’t know…” Disappointed? Hurt? A million words flew through my mind but all of them seemed presumptuous. For all I knew, Wolf didn’t care at all who I fucked around with. “Mad? Jealous?”

He reached up to stroke my cheek. His blue eyes were mesmerizing, a deep sea in which I was all too happy to drown. “I’m jealous as fuck. But you deserve to feel good, and if someone besides me is going to make you feel good, if someone besides me is going to make you come, I’d rather it be Otis or Jace — someone who knows how to do it right — than some dumbfuck off the street.”

“Jace?” My voice had raised a pitch, not because I hadn’t thought about fucking Jace but because I had. Still, I wasn’t about to cop to it. “I wouldn’t fuck Jace if he was the last man on earth.”

Wolf chuckled and I don’t mind saying it went straight to my pussy. “There’s a thin line between love and hate, sunshine.” His expression darkened. “A very thin line.”

We stood there like that for a minute, right up until Otis stepped into the kitchen from the back staircase. “Morning. Nofair if you get to make Daisy come again. Sounds like you’ve had your share.”

Wolf stepped away. “No one is making Daisy come right now. She has to go to work.”

“Daisy is right here,” I said. My cheeks burned but I didn’t know if it was because I was embarrassed or because the thought of coming — with both of them — was more than a little appealing. “And I have to go.”

I picked up my bag and headed for the hall.

“Have a good day at work, sunshine,” Wolf said.

“Thanks for breakfast, doll,” Otis called out.

I took a deep breath as I stepped onto the porch, hoping the morning air would clear my head.

Because frankly? Living with Blake’s best friends was confusing as fuck.

Chapter 35

Daisy

Istopped at Cassie’s Cuppa on my way to work, both because I needed some caffeine to get my head on straight for work and because I knew Ruth would stop there on her way to school.

Our texts had been chilly since I’d moved out of the house and I wanted to be sure she was okay, wanted to be surewewere okay.

I knew she was mad that I’d invited the Beasts to move into the house, but she’d understand later, when I told her what I was doing.

Except what was I doing? Because so far I’d been so distracted juggling the testosterone overload in the house with my own raging lust that I hadn’t had a chance to do anything since asking Wolf about Blake when we’d been at Syd’s.

Then I’d blown my chance to snoop in their rooms — my next plan of action — by forcing them to take me to fight night.

These guys were fucking with my head. I needed to get it on straight.

Like, now.

I needed to remember why I’d invited them to the house — not to mess around but to figure out if they’d really murdered Blake, and if so, why.

The little bell on the door to Cassie’s coffee shop tinkled as I opened it and I stepped into the inviting space, the smell of coffee mingling with the pastries Blackwell Bakery delivered fresh every morning.

It was after 8 a.m. on a Thursday and the early morning commuter crowd had dispersed, leaving mostly locals and a couple kids from Aventine grabbing coffee before class.

Cassie was behind the long counter, moving smoothly between coffee and espresso machines and talking to Kaylee, one of her employees who usually worked the morning shift, while Sarai leaned at the end of the counter and chatted to Cassie.

Sometimes I still couldn’t believe Cassie owned her own business. I’d come in to the coffee shop and see this woman who obviously knew what she was doing and it would take me a second to realize it was my best friend. Then I’d remember how she used to trip jumping rope and the fact that she’d forgotten her locker combination every day for three months in junior high school. Life was weird.

Her face lit up when she spotted me. “Hey!”

“Hey!” I said, joining Sarai at the end of the counter.

“What are you doing here?” Sarai asked, giving me a hug.

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