Page 171 of Bone’s Choice

I shook my head as we headed toward the noise.

Maybe bringing Hazel into the clubhouse should’ve bothered me more.

It didn’t.

Not even a little fucking bit.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Hazel

It was becoming increasingly clear that Pink was the only person in the world who could make the president of the Grave Prowlers look like a twelve-year-old boy who’d just gotten caught swearing.

I loved it.

Bone squeezed my hand.

“You’re enjoying this way too fucking much.”

“Maybe.”

“Go sit down.”

“What?”

He nodded toward the bar. “I’ll get you something to drink.”

I looked around the room.

Taco was standing on a chair with a long-handled duster, glaring up at the ceiling fan like it stole his lunch money. Munch was dragging a vacuum cleaner out of the hallway. Bull had two bulging trash bags in his hands. Humpty was wiping down one of the tables while looking like he’d rather be punched in the face. And Myth was standing behind the bar staring down at an assortment of cleaning products.

He picked up one bottle, looked at it, and picked up another. “What’s the difference between these?”

Pink glanced over. “One is glass cleaner. One is wood polish.”

“They’re both blue.”

“One is clearly not blue.”

Myth held them up. “They’re fucking both blue.”

“Language.”

He closed his eyes. “Sorry.”

I laughed.

He looked at me.

“Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Your face did.”

Bone released my hand.

“I’ll be in my office.”