Page 29 of To Keep A Wolf
Not forever.
For the first time in months, I’m safe. And yet, all I can think about is getting back to the danger.
“What are you thinking about?”
Levi’s voice is low and silky smooth. I shiver at the delicious way it rolls over my skin. When I look over, he’s angled his head up so his eyes can find mine. But he’s still lying cozily against me.
I try to move, but he responds by throwing his leg over my torso, pinning me. “Uh-uh. Answer the question.” I scowl, and he rolls his eyes. “You’re worse than I am.”
“At what?” I ask.
“Being seen.”
I don’t know how to argue that exactly. But in the end, I don’t have to. The van door opens, and I stiffen as a figure moves in the doorway. When I see Tripp climbing inside, my relief is short-lived. Levi reaches for the blanket and pulls it over me just in time to avoid giving a full show.
“Gross, you two.” Tripp wrinkles his nose and takes a hard right, dumping himself into the front passenger seat. “Get a room.”
“The van is the room, bro,” Levi tells him pointedly.
Tripp casts his eyes to the ceiling. “No way. Absolutely not. This is now a studio apartment, and I am the third wheel residing in said apartment. There will be no shenanigans while I’m present. Is that clear?”
Levi pretends to think about it.
Tripp turns back, an incredulous glare scrunching his features. “I’m serious,” he says.
“Yeah, yeah,” Levi says, not nearly convincing enough.
Tripp throws a candy bar at Levi. It hits him in the shoulder, but he just snatches it and rips it open, offering me a bite.
I shake my head, pressing my lips together to keep from smiling.
This is something I could never explain with words, but it’s the thing I’ve missed most in the last few years. My heart aches and fills at the same time as the guys continue their banter. Arguing about dinner choices. Where to put the dirty laundry. What music to play.
It’s exactly what I need to heal my worst parts.
“…what do you think, Mac?” Tripp asks suddenly, and I blink, trying to catch up.
“About what?”
“Tacos or burgers for dinner?” Levi asks, and I can hear it in his voice, the amusement and concern rolled into one note. He knows I’m still trying to find my way back to this—to normal.
I start to answer that food is probably not a good idea right now, considering my upset stomach. But then I realize I’m feeling much steadier than I was before. Either the herbs are working—or the sex is. Either way, I could eat.
“Always tacos,” I say, and Levi groans as Tripp hoots.
“I fucking told you she would say that,” Tripp declares. He slides into the driver’s seat and turns the ignition. “Taco Tuesday—on a Thursday—all day,” he says.
Levi waits until Tripp’s looking at the road and then steals a kiss.
“Busted,” Tripp says, eyeing us in the rearview.
“I’ll put a dollar in the jar,” Levi says, smug.
But Tripp makes a face. “I don’t want your sex-money, bro.”
“Sex-money?” I echo, “Really?”
“Dirty money,” he insists.
