34

CALLUM

A gust of warm air whooshes into my face as I push through the door to exit the squad complex, the summer sun beating down relentlessly overhead. We’re in the middle of what feels like an endless heat wave. The grass of the practice field is crunchy underfoot as I step out onto it, dying of thirst and begging for rain, and despite the fact that I just showered off the sweat I worked up while training, my t-shirt is already clinging to my body like a second skin by the time I reach the outer gate to head for the parking lot.

“Yo Cal, wait up!” a voice calls from behind me, and I swivel to see Logan jogging my way, his clunky motorcycle boots thudding against the ground.

I pause to wait for him, idly twirling the keys to my Corvette around a finger.

He flashes me a smile as he approaches, two rows of straight white teeth gleaming and a pair of dimples sinking into his cheeks. Handsome fucker. “Think you can find some time this week to finish my chest piece?” he asks, fingers trailing over his left pec where he’s sporting my ink beneath his shirt.

“Yeah, for sure. My schedule’s wide open these days.” I rake a hand through my hair. ” Just let me know when you’re up for it.”

His eager grin widens. “Shit, I’d do it right now, but I’m headed to Westfield to see Jax and Quinn. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Sure,” I shrug, though truthfully, I’m just as eager as he is. I’ve been fucking around with my tattoo gun on myself for a while now, but the only other person I’ve ever tattooed is Nessa. That is, until Logan and I got to talking about our ink while we were away on the mission. When he found out I’d done it all myself, he asked if I’d do one for him, and I jumped at the chance. There’s

just a certain thrill that comes with seeing my art come to life on someone else’s skin.

Logan claps me on the shoulder and the two of us start toward the parking lot, falling into an easy stride with one another. “So can we count on you for the next mission?” he asks, swinging his gaze to me. “The IT unit

thinks they may have identified another

offshoot of the shadow pack, wants to send a team to investigate.”

“Nah, man,” I grumble. “Think I’m gonna stick around here for a while.”

He arches a brow in surprise, stopping short in front of his motorcycle parked at the curb. I swivel to face him as I palm my keys.

“Any particular reason?” he asks, a knowing smirk pulling at his lips.

Yeah, Logan knows about Ness. He was tasked with leading the mission, and he’s the one person on our team that I really connected with- we’ve got a lot in common.

with our mutual passion for art and ink. He noticed all my sketchbooks lying around the dingy motel rooms we holed up in while we were away, and when he thumbed through one, he happened to see a sketch or two of!!!! my muse. Or fifty. I can’t help that all my recent sketchbooks are full of her face.OTR

He doesn’t wait for me to answer because he

already knows. “You get her back yet?”

“Working on it,” I grunt.

Logan gets a mischievous glint in his eye,

his smirk deepening. “Was that what you were doing at the swimming hole yesterday?” 3

Shit, I’d actually deluded myself into thinking Nessa and I had been discreet. Then again, I can’t remember the last time I drank that much- it’s not exactly like I was firing on all cylinders when I jumped her in the water.

I reach up to rub the back of my neck, wincing. “You saw that?”

“You two all over each other?” he snorts.

Yeah, hard to miss.”

While a natural reaction would probably be to feel something akin to embarrassment, for some reason, I get a surge of smug satisfaction, my wolf preening with pride for publicly staking our claim. Not that I have any right to, not after the way I left.

“I still don’t know where we stand,” I admit, heaving a sigh. “We were both a little drunk yesterday. I have a feeling she might have woken up this morning with second thoughts.”

“Ah, you’ll figure it out,” Logan says with a cavalier grin. “Take her out to a fancy dinner or buy her something nice. Girls love that shit.”

I shake my head, chuckling wryly. If only it were that easy. “Not this girl,” I mumble.

Even if I could afford to do that, Nessa’s not the type to be impressed by flashy presents or fine dining. It’s more about the little things with her. She’d take a scenic view over a stuffy restaurant any day, or a drawing out of my sketchbook over expensive jewelry. The things that make her eyes light up are the ones you can’t put a price tag on.

Logan shrugs, stepping up to his motorcycle and kicking a leg over. “Find another way to get back on her good side, then. You’ll think of something.” He starts the engine, the deep hum vibrating through my body as he revs it a few times. “Flowers usually help, all girls like flowers. There’s a floral shop in Summervale.” I wrinkle my nose at his suggestion and Logan shrugs again.

she has a chance to sit and stew about yesterday. You know how girls

after spending ten fucking minutes out in this oppressive heat. “I’ll think about

up the kickstand with a boot, rolling away from the curb.

in acknowledgement, turning away to head for my Corvette as I hear the roar

before seeking out Nessa, the longer she’ll have to overanalyze what happened yesterday; the longer she’ll have to decide that she

it’s time to come up with a plan.

Nessa asks cautiously, clutching the edge of the heavy wooden front door of the Norbury packhouse like a shield

square my shoulders. and deliver the line with a confident swagger, but it’s all false bravado. I’m nervous as hell about how this is

my heart is pounding so hard that it feels like

would slap the shit out of me right now for being such a pussy and getting all awkward and nervous around a girl. This isn’t just any girl, though. Nessa’s

eyes drop to my side, widening in curiosity, and only then do I remember what’s currently clutched in my hand, half hidden behind the back of my thigh.

reaches out to take them from me. “Aw, I love carnations,” she breathes, her lips pulling into a bright smile as she fingers the soft white

before. I didn’t even think to ask the florist at the shop in Summervale

much, but for the amount of flowers I ended up walking out with, I

me, I need to ask Brady if he’s got any work for me at the garage while I’m waiting for my stipend

wider and taking a step

Logan.

Nessa

over her shoulder as she puts the flowers in the glass of water

“You’ll see.”

suspiciously, but I keep my expression neutral, not giving anything

me a nice view of her ass in the little white pair of denim shorts she’s wearing. She catches me

get the flash of a memory of squeezing it in my hands, my fingertips sinking into her flesh as I bent her over and pounded into her. My cock thickens beneath my zipper and I subtly adjust myself as I step outside behind her and close the

walk toward the driveway, and Nessa stutters a step as we approach the Corvette, her expression twisting. It doesn’t register at first, but

parked at the curb outside her parents’ house. Her eyes lit up, and it struck me how despite its flaws, she truly appreciated the beauty of the old, restored car that I had poured so much sweat and effort into. When she climbed in, I remember how she took in every detail of the dilapidated interior, running her fingers over the old leather seats reverently. And when I started it

car, but now she eyes it with apprehension, all the good memories

pressing my keys into her

eyes widening in shock as they ping between

her expression slowly shifting from apprehension to excitement. “But this

car makes me a little bit queasy, but

I should’ve trusted myself to keep you safe rather than just bailing out on you.” I reach up to touch her face, running my thumb gently along the

her face. I feel her little tremble of excitement beneath my fingertips, see it spark in her warm

passenger seat, feeling completely out of place on this side of the Corvette. I watch Nessa climb in behind the wheel, her long tan legs slipping inside, her lithe fingers gripping the key as she turns it in the ignition and the engine rumbles to life beneath us. I feel the deep, smooth purr of it down to my bones every time, my pulse

when she shifts the gear and backs the car out of the driveway. It’s not that I don’t trust her with my car- I do- it’s just that this vehicle is one of the few things in this world that I give a shit about, and relinquishing control of it ha me

a glance and clocking the tight set of my jaw and balled

tip my head toward the windshield.” Eyes on the

the end

My lungs constrict.

way?” she asks, braking a little too

to the left. She takes the turn, and I lean forward to hit the button for the radio, cranking up the volume to calm myself by filling

the turns a little too fast for my liking, my hands scrabbling for purchase on the ceiling of the car, which she finds fucking hilarious. Although my heart’s in my throat, her giggle soothes my nerves like music to my

off to let other cars through. There’s hardly ever any traffic, but the last thing I want is for her to chance it by going too fast and send the

will appreciate. If we can make

restraining myself from reaching over and grabbing the wheel. “The road ends right up there.”

she grumbles, punctuating her words with another eyeroll. She does slow down, though, and when the Corvette finally rolls to a stop and she cuts the engine, I blow out a long breath, my

down to unfasten my seatbelt, throwing it off my shoulder. “C’mon,” I urge, opening

drivers’ side and meeting me in front of the car.

she shakes her head, taking

the rocks at the edge in a few strides, and I hop up onto the top of the stony plateau, offering her a hand to help her up. As soon as she climbs up

a

vantage point, you can see the swell of nearby mountaintops and the snow-capped peaks of those in the distance. The lush foliage of the forest is spread out below, teeming with life, and the wide

eyes focused on her face as she drinks in the

closer

and I re out to grab her arm, tugging her back before she can take another step. “Careful,” I warn, nodding toward the edge. “That’s a long drop.”

smirk creasing her lips. “So you didn’t bring

I flinch.

slightest tic of my jaw. If she blinked, she’d miss it. She doesn’t, though. The smile drops from her face, her cheeks flushing. “Shit, sorry, I

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