Page 39 of Bite Marks & Broken Hearts

“Rory.”

Tap-tap-tap.

That was it. I tolerated a lot from my Killigrew Street team, but outright insubordination was too much.

“Rory, go and wait in my office. Now!”

“Wait!” Flynn burst out. “It’s not his fault!”

I turned to him, brows drawing together. “What?”

“The dead body thing.” Flynn’s voice wavered. “He didn’t want me to see it.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“It’s true!” Flynn leaned forward. “I insisted that I go in. I felt like… like I deserved to know what might happen to me.” He touched his chest, and I couldn’t help but soften slightly.

“Even if that’s true,” I said. “Rory shouldn’t have allowed it.”

Our younger wolffinallyturned his head towards me. “You’re right. I was out of line. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

I paused, awaiting some sort of punch line.

“I promise. And Flynn’s totally lying to cover my ass.”

Flynn groaned softly, hiding his face with his hand.

“I’m aware,” I snapped. “I’m not a complete fool.”

Behind me, Felix coughed, holding out his hands for the laptop stowed under my arm. I wordlessly passed it to him.

“You’ve tried turning it on and off again, yeah?”

Oops.

I held out my hand to take it back.

A snort of laughter from the sofa—I pivoted to find Flynn with his hand over his mouth. “I can probably help him, Felix, if you have work to do.”

Felix appeared relieved and scurried away, and Flynn shuffled across the sofa, patting the space beside him. My throat tightened—I hadn’t drunk yet today, and the proximity would be… challenging. But his expectant look made refusing impossible, so I lowered myself onto the cushion, maintaining a careful distance.

I passed him the laptop, and Flynn reached for it, his fingers—soft, impossibly soft—grazing mine in a way that I could have sworn seemed deliberate. He kept his hand still for just a fraction of a second, and the warm touch sent an electric current through my cold skin.

Then it was over, and he swiftly opened the laptop, staring intently at the screen. I tried to watch what he was doing, but the warmth radiating from his body was incredibly distracting. As was his scent. And his soft fingers dancing across the keyboard.

I clasped my hands together, focusing on anything else—the tap of keys, the whir of computer fans, Rory’s continued presence on the other sofa.

A few clicks later, and the screen flickered back to life.

“There we go.” Flynn’s smile lit up his whole face. “Just needed a restart.”

“But why can’t they make them so they don’t freeze? We’ve sent men to the moon, for Christ’s sake!”

His laugh burst forth—rich and genuine, starting deep in his chest before bubbling up into something lighter, more musical. It transformed his features, softening the subtle lines adorning his forehead. His knee shifted, pressing against mine, and the contact sent tingles shooting through my leg.

“You remind me of my grandfather.”

The insult shouldn’t have sounded flirtatious, but paired with the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the slight bite of his lower lip, and that deliberate press of his knee against mine…

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