Page 19 of Tender Wild

Jared picked up the menu, eyes widening at the extensive breakfast section. “They serve breakfast all day?”

He would have to find something in his nonexistent budget to order. The twenty in his wallet was supposed to be for gas, but since his car was once again down, it looked like he was having breakfast for dinner.

Chapter Five

Miguel balanced two containers of leftovers from the diner as he unlocked the back door of his house. The key stuck for a moment, like it always did, before finally giving way with a satisfying click.

“Home sweet home.” He pushed the door open with his shoulder to let Jared in first. “Nothing fancy, but it’s mine.”

Jared glanced around the small kitchen, taking in the secondhand appliances, the faded countertops, and the collection of beer bottles Miguel had forgotten to throw out. His place wasn’t much, but seeing Jared standing in his kitchen made the worn-out space feel different somehow.

A blur of black and white fur shot toward Miguel the moment they stepped inside. Psycho raced toward him, tail high, mouth open in a silent meow of greeting. Until she spotted Jared and skidded to a halt, fur instantly doubling in size. Her back arched high, yellow eyes wide as she let out a hiss that sounded like air escaping a punctured tire.

In a flash, she darted beneath the kitchen table then bolted down the hallway.

“What the flip?” Jared stood in the doorway, mouth hanging open slightly.

“That would be Psycho,” Miguel confirmed, kicking the door closed behind them.

“That was Psycho?” Jared’s eyebrows shot up.

“Just a cat with an attitude problem.” Miguel set the food on the table.

“A wolf with a cat?” Jared pointed out, still hovering awkwardly near the entrance. “That’s pretty weird.”

“Ironic, right? Found her behind the tavern during a storm. Tiny, soaked, angry as hell.” He flicked on the lights, revealing a modest kitchen. “Nursed her back to health, and the little demon never left.” A fond smile crossed his face. “You’re a cat,” Miguel reminded him with a soft grin.

“Which is why she shouldn’t have run.”

“Don’t take it personally. She hates everyone except me, and even that’s questionable some days.” Miguel hung his keys on a hook by the door, shrugging off his leather jacket.

“So I’m not special?” Jared’s voice carried a teasing lilt.

Miguel stepped closer, crowding the guy against the wall without touching him. “I didn’t say that.”

Heat flared between them, thick and heady in the narrow space. For a moment, they just breathed each other in, Miguel catching notes of citrus and nervousness, while Jared’s pupils dilated slightly.

“Come on,” Miguel finally said, stepping back. He led Jared through the kitchen into his living room, with worn but clean furniture, a few framed motorcycle prints on the walls, and bookshelves stuffed with paperbacks and car manuals.

“Make yourself at home.” He gestured toward the couch before flipping on more lights. “Want something to drink? Beer? Water?”

“Water’s good.” Jared lowered himself onto the couch with a wince, his thighs clearly still aching from the ride.

Heading back to the kitchen, Miguel grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge. When he returned, he found Jared sitting stiffly on the edge of the couch.

“You look like you’re waiting for a doctor’s appointment.” Miguel handed him one of the bottles. “Relax. Couch doesn’t bite.”

“Not sure I can relax when my legs feel like they’ve been through a meat grinder.” Jared accepted the water with a small smile. “I might never walk normally again.”

“First time on a bike always leaves you sore. Trust me, I know.” Miguel sat beside him, close enough for their thighs to touch. “Turn around.”

“What?” Jared blinked at him.

“Turn around.” Miguel made a circular motion with his finger.

Jared hesitated, then shifted on the couch. “You don’t have to—”

“Shut up and let me help.” Miguel placed his hands on the guy’s slender back, feeling the tension knotted beneath his palms. “Relax.”

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