Page 78 of Forever Relentless

It took a second for my brain to catch up.

“Yeah, they’re definitely addictive.” I dropped the bones and picked up another one. “I’d offer you one, but—”

“You’re hungry, and you don’t share food?” she asked, amused. When I said nothing, she smiled wider. “You’re so stereotypical male. You remind me of Mason sometimes.”

“And that’s a problem?” I asked, noticing how she watched me lick my thumb clean of BBQ sauce. “Tell me, do you watch your brother’s tongue the way you watch mine?”

Her face flushed red, and I felt a thrill of satisfaction as she dipped her head, hiding behind the curtain of hair. “You’re an ass, Matthews.”

“Yep.” I picked up another wing. “In all seriousness, do you want one?”

She looked up at me from beneath her lashes. “I do. But—”

I pushed the bucket toward her. “One. Maybe two,” I allowed.

Her eyes flashed with irritation. “So generous,” she murmured, reaching for the bucket, glaring at me when I pulled it out of reach.

“I am generous, I’m sharing. Don’t be ungrateful . . . or greedy”

Briar pulled her hand back, her eyes narrowing on mine. “Keep your wings. If you choke, I’m going to sit here and watch you die, and then I’ll finish the bucket myself.”

I let out a loud laugh, and she looked away as she smiled in turn.

“That is next-level brutal.” I wiped my mouth and pushed the bucket back slightly. “Offer still stands: one. Two if you’re nice.”

She already had one in her hand, and I watched in fascination as she sank her teeth into the fleshy part of the wing. “What constitutes nice?”

“Head.”

I don’t know why I said it, but it was worth it to watch her spit her chicken out as she coughed in surprise.

I reached for another wing, not hiding my amusement. “That was fucking priceless.”

Briar grabbed my water, tossed my straw aside, and gulped down half of it. When she had recovered, she defiantly reached for the bucket and took the whole thing over to her side of the table.

“Fuck you, asshole.”

“That might be three wings,” I mused.

“So one for politeness, two for head, and three for sex?” She took another drink of my water. “I don’t know if you’re generous or easy?”

“Definitely generous.”

She cleaned up her mess and then ate another wing, the gleam in her eyes challenging me to say something.

“So . . .” She wiped her hands on a napkin. “Why are you here?”

“Same reason as you are.”

She squinted. “Unlikely.”

“Why is it unlikely?”

“Well, I was here for my yoga class.” She looked me over. “Can’t see you fitting into the class.”

“Yogaist.”

“Not a word.”