Page 70 of Blood and Trouble

“Poe likes when we bet clothes,” Lycan said, holding my gaze.

I took a deep breath and forced it out on a slow sigh. My cheeks burned as my heart raced and my skin tightened. Why the fuck was he toying with me like this? He had his wife. He had the happily ever after I thought he’d share with me. Why couldn’t he leave well enough alone?

“Don’t you, Poe?” Lycan asked in that annoying, fake-innocent tone.

A thousand retorts raced through my mind.

Why are you doing this?

You have her. Just take her.

How dare you say I’m scared? You’re the one who’s scared, you selfish prick.

Maybe Lycan read all of that in my angry stare because he grinned and shifted his head, daring me to back down, to run away. A part of me wanted to. The angry, heartbroken man Lycan had left months ago wanted to disappear into the woods until we left. But something kept me rooted to the spot. Maybe it was that connection still humming in my veins, the one that we’d formed last night in our other forms. Maybe it was the way my bonding scent rolled off me in waves that didn’t threaten Lycan away from Ava. No, it invited him. It coaxed him. It wanted him, too.

I sent Lycan a look that asked, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Lycan ran his tongue over his teeth and answered with a silent, “Bet.”

“Sure, Lycan,” I said. “Whatever you say.”

“Well, I like the sound of that.” He pushed his chair back from the table and walked to the counter, retrieving a bottle of whiskey and three glass tumblers before placing them down in the center of the table. “You deal the cards, Trouble, and I’ll pour the drinks.”

Ava hummed agreeably as she shuffled the deck, and I shifted, trying to force air back into my lungs.

“I’m happy you came back, Poe,” Ava said. “I was worried about you.”

“Yes, it was very mean of him to walk-of-shame it out of here the morning after your first shift, wasn’t it?” Lycan tsked. “Such bad manners.”

“Well, you know what they say,” I muttered, running a palm over my face. “Three’s a crowd.”

Lycan laughed and poured two fingers of amber liquor into a glass, setting it down in front of me.

“No one says that anymore. Three’s a party.” Then the fucker winked at me, and something hot rolled down to my balls.

Fuck.

I’m so fucked.

“Are you angry at us?” Ava asked, dealing two cards out to each of us. “For…the night before?”

My stomach lurched as I remembered the sight of her kneeling in front of him, his beautiful cock in her throat, her arousal so potent I smelled it from the other side of the window.

“No,” I said. “No, I’m not angry.”

“Then why did you leave?” Her big blue eyes implored me to be honest, even as she tried to keep her features neutral.

“I told you, Trouble.” Lycan peeked at his cards while Ava flipped the first three cards over. “He’s scared.”

“I’m not fucking scared,” I snapped.

Lycan held his hands out to either side in a mocking display of deference. “Alright. You’re not scared.”

“Besides, aren’t you the one who never lets anyone get close to him? The one who thinks he’s too much of an evil bastard to love anyone besides himse—” This wasn’t an argument I wanted to have in front of Ava. It wasn’t her business, and besides, it didn’t matter anymore. Ancient history and all that. He’d moved on. I should have done the same.

Except…sitting there in that room with his dangerous eyes on me and the taste of Ava’s coconut pheromones on my tongue, it didn’t feel like he’d moved on. It seemed like he’d bucked a U somewhere around “I do” and dragged Ava to this fucked-up hell with him.

“That’s right,” Lycan said. “I am an evil bastard. Might as well enjoy it.”