Charlotte’s face tightens. They approach my door and knock hard and insistent.
Fuckers.How do they even know which apartment is mine?
“Grace!” Tanner’s voice is so annoyingly nasal. “We know Charlotte’s in there. Let us in. We wanna talk.”
Charlotte’s hands start to shake. I grab them and level my gaze with hers. “We’re not letting them in. It’s okay.”
As far as I know, she never got the restraining order. Not yet. It’s probably about the only reason they’re here right now.
But it’s too late. Another knock, and then the knob rattles, and I realize my own idiocy:I never locked it.
“Grace, come on!” Evan shouts. “We know you’re home. Charlotte’s with you, right?”
Charlotte’s grip tightens, her eyes huge. “We can pretend we’re not here.”
The door bursts open anyway. Charlton Pack saunters in like it’s their own apartment.
I put Charlotte at my back and walk backward toward the kitchen. “This isnotyour place. Get the fuck out.”
Tanner leads, his hair gelled within an inch of its life. Behind him, Christopher and Evan, both in cargo shorts and backwards caps, try to look casual, but their nostrils are flared, scenting the air like sharks.
“Whoa, what’s up, girls?” Tanner sprawls into the entryway, eyebrows bouncing as he scans the room. “Nice setup, Grace. Didn’t know you were so domestic.”
Christopher grins, revealing a chipped incisor I hadn’t noticed during our past two encounters. “We brought snacks.” He drops a pack of beer on to my coffee table.
“Get out,” I repeat. Grace shifts behind me, hopefully calling 9-1-1.
Evan gives a wounded look. “That’s rude. We just came by to say hi.” But he’s already locking onto Charlotte, his expression shifting from mock offense to hungry calculation. “Hey, Charlotte.”
Charlotte, to her credit, stands her ground with her head held high. “Great, you’ve said hi. You can leave now.”
Tanner ignores this and cracks a can of beer. “We heard you killed it the last few nights, Charlotte. You’ve got everyone buzzing. But maybe you should ditch the ice princess gig and come join us at the party tomorrow?”
“She doesn’t want to,” I snap.
Christopher closes the distance between us and leans against my kitchen counter. “Who says she doesn’t? Maybe she’s bored of skating circles around you, Grace.”
Something is happening between the three of them—some weird, off-kilter energy I can’t read, but it’s obvious they’re not planning to leave this time until they’ve gotten what they came for. Charlotte’s hand trembles harder.
Charlotte gives me a look—a split second of panic, then resolve. “I’m not interested in parties, Chris.”
“But we are interested inyou,” Evan says, grinning.
All their gazes lock on Grace.
Hell the fuck no.
“This is your last chance, get the hell out of here,” I warn as I shift my stance. My frame might be better built for doing jumps on ice, but there’s one other thing I trained on as my father’s only daughter.
Christopher pouts. “Why, what are you going to?—”
I reel back and punch him square in the nose. He cries out and stumbles backwards, absolutely more from shock than force. Charlotte yelps. Pain erupts through my fist, but I pull back, ready to swing again.
“I said get the fuck away from my friend!”
Tanner laughs drunkenly. “Whoa, whoa. Uncalled for. Think yourself an alpha now do you?”
The door swings open again. Three more men stand at my doorframe. But these are ones I’m happy to see.
