Page 19 of Dark

And that’s when I heard their voices.

Karma always had a way of piling it on when you were in the middle of a spectacular foul-up. Like when the high school called your parents to tell them you’d been cutting class, getting into fights and not participating (as if they needed another reminder you were the puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit in their picture-perfect little family) and you had to trudge back down from the principal’s office after hearing Ben say in his sheriff’s voice you would discuss this at home, only to find a science quiz you hadn’t studied for waiting on your desk.

Life could be a bitch.

I rounded the bottom of the stairs in time to see Lacey Blair framed in the doorway. Dressed in yoga pants and a sherbet-green hoodie, she had the heavy crate of fresh sandwiches and pastries we had delivered every morning from her aunt’s bakery propped on one hip.

I was nearly across the shop floor when Hayden crossed her arms and shrugged.

“—called first shower.”

As if she hadn’t heard me coming.

“Hey. Thanks for dropping these off,” I said, stepping in front of the little shit-stirrer.

Lacey shot me a dark look, trying to peer around me at Hayden, eyes flicking accusatorily from my borrowed shirt to the bite mark at the base of her throat.

The topic of Hayden? Strictly embargoed. Which didn’t mean Lacey hadn’t tried to get the dirt. Pretty much everyone in my family had at one time or another. And I didn’t trust any of them but Cal, who was a freaking shrink and knew how to keep that shit locked down.

“Can. We. Talk.” Not waiting for a response, Lacey shoved the crate of pastries in my face, sending blueberry muffins and individually wrapped slices of vegan carrot cake flying.

The door slammed. Hayden whirled on me, eyes icy slits of fury. Because of course, by whatever freaky girl-logic, she could both keep insisting I was nothing to her while simultaneously being pissed I hadn’t spent the last ten years locked up in a monastery, having my dick spiritually cleansed.

I dropped the crate on the counter. “I can explain.”

Hayden let out a huff. “Explain why you told me you’re single and now she’s here with a bag of peanut butter crunch cookies we both know are your favorite?”

I opened my mouth. Maybe to deny it? Except we both knew on some level, she was right. I had no idea why Lacey would even pull this sort of crap. We agreed from the start our hookups would be no-strings-attached. As in, a once-a-month arrangement to keep our wolves in check. I didn’t get a chance to say any of this, though, before a still-warm paper Blair’s bag was being smashed into my chest, incriminating peanut buttery fumes wafting up as it hit the floor.

“Hayden,” I started.

The door slammed.

Burn.

Cursing, I tossed the ruined cookies in the trash and headed out into the chilly pre-dawn morning. Time for damage control.

Arms folded, Lacey was practically burning a hole in the wet sidewalk out by her family’s delivery truck in her baby-blue Nikes. Shivering, I stuffed my hands in my pockets. A ribbon of pink edged the eastern horizon. It was early for the first cold snap of the year, but the change in the air felt good. Or it would have if I were dressed for it, but no way was I going back inside for a coat now.

“Are you with her?”

Startled, I glanced up. “What?”

She rolled her eyes. “Come off it, Caldwell, and answer the question.”

“None of your business.”

“Wow.”

Running a hand over her close-cropped hair, she stared out at the street. Lacey Blair had been hanging out with my brothers for years, kicking West’s butt at foosball and cheekily informing Dallas no man was going to tell her how to shoot pool. The two of us never hung out much in high school even though she was just a year above me. She ran track, and pretty much the only running I did was out to the parking lot to my truck after the 8th period bell.

Lacey was pretty in that classical sort of way. Heart-shaped face. Flawless olive skin. Dancer’s physique. The fact that there had never been anything there on my end had nothing to do with looks.

“Look, we said up front this was just—”

Lacey laughed harshly. “Yeah. You don’t do relationships. No ties. No attachments. And then goth girl shows up out of the blue and all the rules change.”

She waited. But there wasn’t a question in that little monologue. And even if there had been, it wasn’t like I had an answer that was going to make her feel any better.