Page 81 of Red

“Be smart, you two,” I say as I move down the hallway.

Chapter 24

Itrip over my own feet and my shoulder collides with Stark’s door.

“Oops.” I knock on his door. “Sorry, grump,” I say and laugh. I might’ve had a few more than planned. Jocko makes strong drinks.

I turn to my own door and pull the handle, but nothing happens. Why is my door locked? I pull on it again.

“You might want to try pushing on it,” that smooth, calm voice says from behind me.

When I spin, Stark leans against his bedroom doorframe. He’s shirtless. My mouth drops, and I use my hand to cover my gasp. He cannot walk around like that. It should be a pack rule.

“You can keep your grumpy comments to yourself.” I rotate and push the door open.

But Stark doesn’t go back to bed, instead he’s entering the room behind me as I spin. I start another song on my phone and ignore him. It’s me, my music, and a good night with friends. His mood can’t ruin this—and neither can his striking body I want to bite.

Never mind. I did not just think that.

I sway and twirl to the song while I strip my shirt off, tossing it toward the dresser. It’s not like Stark hasn’t already seen me naked. Plus, I have a bra on. I bend over and pull down my shorts.

He groans. “Red, keep your clothes on.”

“You’re the one in my room,” I say, taking them off completely. I stand straight and pull open the top drawer, moving to the music while I find a pair of silk shorts and a tank top to sleep in. Nikki and Stark might have not slept together, but maybe he’s like super old fashioned and needs the ceremony to be done first. I have no idea, but she says they’re mates; that is something werewolves don’t lie about. I slip both on and turn toward him.

“Red.” There’s a warning edge to the word.

“You missed out on the dance party.” I leap toward my bed, landing across it, then prop my head up under my elbows and watch him. My legs kick in the air.

The muscles in his chest rise and fall with each breath. “I didn’t know we were having one. I wouldn’t say I was in the dancing mood.”

“Right. Why’d you go for a late night run?” I tilt my head and watch the muscles on his body go tight, sending an undesired warmth below my stomach. I want to throw the flannel blanket at him to cover up.

“Overheard something. Needed some air.”

“Been there before.” Almost every day, if I listen to the thoughts going on in this house. “What was it? Some big secret? Find out your mate’s secretly trying to kill you?” I laugh and roll over to stare at him upside down, the lines of his jaw more pronounced. The thin black straps of my tank top slide off my shoulders.

“Something like that.” Calm. Collected. A stone-faced mask. I liked it when he was angry, or worried. Showing some sort of emotion across his face.

“Well, I’m sorry. It sucks to hear things you wish you didn’t. Believe me.” For the first time all day, I listen back in, but Stark’s thoughts stay quiet.

“Did you like being there?” He rubs his hand across his abs and scratches his side. My eyes are glued to him—to the obvious V going straight to something I need to not be thinking about.

I twist again and sit up, crossing my legs. “Where? At the Uprising?”

“Yeah.” Why did she come back?

My face falls, along with my heart. I guess one of them isn’t happy I came back.

“There were moments,” I admit. I think of Gretch’s smiling face, the crowd of clapping and hollering when I shot my first high-powered rifle, dancing down the path after the bar with Tripp. “But . . .” Stark’s face stays straight, but his eyes watch me as I talk. “I went there for a purpose. Then there were moments, that, uh . . .” I wrap my hands around my ankles and hold tight. Stark’s huge wolf body in the scope comes to mind, and me opening the connection I’ve never done with anyone except family. “I would rather not experience again.” Tears drip onto my thigh. A warm touch brushes my cheek, and when I open my eyes, Stark’s hand falls away.

He sits on the edge of the top sheet and watches me. Why can’t he be mean all the time? This isn’t helping.

“Did someone hurt you?”

“Oh no, it’s a long story.” Involving me shooting at you.

“You didn’t fall in love there?”