Page 23 of The Wolf's Kidnapped Mate

My smile faded. “Yeah, well, he’s not here.”

“Why do you sound so mad about it?”

“Aren’t you?”

She quietly sat back while the engine chugged on in the stretch of silence. That was a lot less awkward than whatever passed as pop music on the radio these days.

She shrugged it off. “Liam does what he wants.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“Did you two have a lovebirds fight or something?”

I cocked my right brow in her direction without losing focus on the truck. “Why do you say it like that?”

“I don’t know. Because you two are so close.”

“Not closer than you.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched her plop her chin into her hand and look listlessly ahead. The boba cup sat between her knees. The mochi waffle was largely untouched on her left thigh. With how much the truck vibrated, it was gettingready to jiggle right off her lap. She absently blocked it from falling toward the center console.

Her nostrils flared. She probably sighed under the growling engine. “You’d be surprised.”

Damn, that wasn’t a very good look. Here I thought my best friend would at least keep in touch with his sister more often than me. I guessed he wasn’t impressing us in that department.

I hated to see her upset about it. Nothing was worse than watching a star have her shine dimmed by depressing realizations. Granted, I wasn’t the type to be positive, but if she needed a boost, then she needed a damn boost.

Even if it was at the expense of my ears.

“Alright,” I said louder, “turn on the damn radio if it would help.”

She popped upright and reached for the knob without wasting a second. Crackling sounds came through the speakers first, then the upbeat clang of a guitar rhythmically following a basic bass beat.

I hunched toward the steering wheel as I reached the stoplight that would take us out of town. The brakes squealed a bit as we came to a stop, my hand firmly on the gear shift. Now it was just pop music and the engine chugging, and merciful goddess, Kylie wassinging alongto whatever this crap was called.

The more I had to listen to it, the more my shoulders crunched in. She pressed her arms to the ceiling and tilted her head back, wiggling to the rhythm—or what passed as rhythm, I guessed—as she shouted the lyrics. A car pulled up next to us with a couple of guys far more interested in her than I liked.

Kylie didn’t mind. She was lost in her own world, pink-decorated eyelids closed and glossy lips in a wide smile. Smooth skin hosted the perfect contour that didn’t make her pores look big like it did on some women who weren’t as experienced with foundation, or whatever it was called.

Nothing but joy on her face. Happiness on her lips. Smiles and more smiles.

It looked good on her.

The guys in the car to our left, a beat-up looking Honda that probably needed an oil change by the smell of the exhaust, honked a few times to get Kylie’s attention. I growled while turning the volume down and leaned over the console.

“Hey!” The guys stiffened when they saw me. “Yeah,you. Why don’t you stare at someone else, huh? Pick up your jaw off the ground and mind your own goddamn business!”

As soon as the light turned green, I took off, subconsciously reeling from how much those guys were pissing me off.Seriously, they had acted like they’d never seen a gorgeous woman in their lives. Kylie was dreadfully adorable today with her colorful halter top and pleated skirt. The tennis shoes were a nice touch.

It was like I was protecting the Girl Next Door. But she was actually more of a Girl Who Could Kick Your Ass. Looks could be so deceiving. That was why I appreciated Kylie’s company. She didn’t try to act innocent or play off hurt. She was real. She was honest.

And I didn’t think it was right to let some weird guys annoy her for having a good time.

Kylie laughed while clutching the door handle and the center console at the same time. The boba cup was fine betweenher knees, but the mochi waffle had completely disappeared. I hoped she’d eaten it. I hoped it wasn’t on the straw-covered, filthy floor of this truck. She was a beauty, but she was also in desperate need of detailing and a coat of paint.

The truck, not Kylie.

We cleared another light where I retained my speed. “What’s funny?”

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