Page 46 of Anomalies

“Kimmy,” he blurts, and I swear a blush creeps up his cheeks. “Kimmy smells like roses.” Pax’s voice slows, and his eyes flutter shut as he buries his face in the pillows.

I sigh heavily, “She does.”

After a few more minutes of tugging on his leg, I come to the painful conclusion that without any help, I’ll never get him out of this bed. The sunrise is only a few hours off, and I might be strong, but Pax is a couple hundred pounds of pure muscle. I slide under the covers with a huff, throwing up a pillow barrier between us.

“You better stay on your side, Pax,” I huff. “I’m a kicker.”

A brief silence passes, and I think he’s fallen asleep until he whispers into the dark cabin, “Callan was right about you.”

My head snaps up. “Oh yeah? And what was he right about?”

I wait patiently for his response, but all I get is a low chuckle, followed by a deep snore.

That motherfucker.

13

LUCINA

Wood splinters, and there’s a heavy crash against the floor, forcing me from a deep sleep.

Gemma springs up on the couch, wide-eyed, her golden hair frizzy and tangled. Pax slowly comes to, groaning as he gathers his surroundings. Early morning light streams into my cabin–

Through the giant fucking hole where my door used to be.

“Shit,” Pax curses under his breath as the Captain casually steps over the fallen slab of wood, his boots crunching the splintered pieces.

“It’s my fault,” I say instantly, a poor attempt at an excuse, and one that falls on deaf ears. Fuck. I can only imagine what it looks like…Pax and I in bed together…

He’s so screwed.

Callan ignores me, stomping over to Pax’s side of the bed. “Get. Up,” he growls in his face, a vein protruding from his temple.

Pax scrambles to his feet, his hair disheveled and his clothes wrinkled. He doesn’t even bother with excuses; none would do him any good anyway.

“It wasn’t his fault,” I say again, and Callan whips around to face me.

“I’ll deal with you later.”

I freeze, at a complete loss for words, then Callan twists, pinning his stern stare on Pax, as he ushers him out of the cabin.

I throw the sheets back, the room swaying as I find my footing. Chiaros, I’d had a lot of wine. “You owe me a new door!” I shout after the Captain, and his fists clench at his sides, the only evidence that he heard me. But he doesn’t slow his pace, storming off into the dewy morning with Pax hot on his heels.

“Do you think he’ll kill him?” I ask Gemma, unable to unsee the fury in Callan’s grey eyes or the fear in Pax’s. I turn to face her when she doesn’t answer. “Surely, he won’t kill him, right?”

Gemma comes to stand beside me, both of us watching as they walk off. “Probably not,” she says, and my shoulders fall. “They’re boys, they’ll fight about it, then move on. But you…he might kill you.”

“Kill me?” That’s rich. I scoff as Gemma crawls into my bed, a blanket still draped over her shoulders. “I did nothing wrong.”

I carefully navigate my way across the splintered wood, wincing at the headache that has fully bloomed across my temples, then I freeze when Gemma starts chuckling to herself.

I stare blankly back at her.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just—” She falls into another fit of laughter, and I roll my eyes. “I don’t even think he knocked before doing that.”

He didn’t.

“I mean, I get why he’d be mad, but what would possess a person to do something like…that?” I throw my arms out to the mess. “It’s a temper tantrum, that’s what it is.”