Page 17 of Bound

West’s mouth hovered an inch from mine. “Brody’s on his way. He and Dallas will be here in less than four minutes and in case you haven’t noticed, I’m armed with my laptop and a bunch of Shakespeare quizzes my second period royally bombed this morning. You’ve got a goddamn knife. So I’ll say it again, do you have some kind of death wish?”

I growled.

He gripped my wrist tighter, thumb digging into a pressure point.

Heat shivered across my skin at the flash of pain, my gaze dropping to his mouth. Caldwell inhaled sharply, breath catching, and in that second of hesitation, as his pupils dilated and I didn’t move away, I knew without a doubt that West Caldwell wanted to answer the question that we’d been dancing around since the day we’d met, to sate the wild, reckless energy that crackled any time we were in the same room. I shuddered, my body pulsing like a live wire as his breath warmed my lips.

I leaned in, kissing him. Instantly, West froze. I pulled back a little, giving him the chance to back out, to declare this a one time, moon-crazed, effed-up bad idea I’d stupidly come up with.

He didn’t. There was only the soft pressure of his lips against mine and the giddy, almost breathless flutter of long held anticipation I felt echoed beneath my skin as his heartrate picked up. He tasted like cinnamon gum, like Dr. Pepper, like West, and as his lips slid over mine in a way that was almost hesitant, I found myself wondering how long it had been since he’d last kissed someone. And how long he’d thought about wanting to kiss me. His grip on my wrists softened. I reached up to cup his face—

Without warning he released me, staggering back.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have…” He scraped a hand over his face. “I shouldn’t have let things go that far.”

I lowered my head, aching and so hard I could barely see straight.

“Let’s go,” he said roughly. “They won’t try anything if we’re in a crowd.”

Urban and funky, Dark was your typical retro-hipster coffee bar with modern recessed lighting and stained concrete floors. We had to elbow our way through a crush of bodies, earning more than a few glares considering the place was slammed. West’s brother was busy behind the counter when we entered and didn’t look up. Ethan’s custom latte art was regularly tagged and posted across social media, the rage this week an edgy treble clef design Dark was featuring in honor of his wife, Hayden Crowe, rock guitarist and lead singer for local indie rock band Daisy Addiction.

“Hey,” Ethan said in a low voice once we reached him. “Saw your text through the group chat. We’ll have everyone cleared out in a few minutes.”

The crowd broke out in shouts as up onstage, Hayden finished her guitar solo with a flourish and grabbed the mic. “That’s it for tonight, y’all. Thanks so much for coming out.”

“Sorry for dragging you into the middle of this.” I flicked a glance towards the stage. Spotting us, Hayden tilted her head, pale blue eyes narrowing shrewdly.

“Nah. It’s cool.” Ethan leaned across the counter to serve a last round of drinks. “There have to be a hundred people here tonight and August has us wired with the best surveillance system on the market. They’d be crazy to try anything.”

Suddenly the buzzing pressure in the back of my mind eased.

“They’re gone,” I murmured, glancing through the large front windows facing out to the street where the crowd was milling about.

“You’re sure?” West pulled out his phone, quickly sending another text.

I hesitated. “If it’s a bomb—”

“Brody and Dallas will pick up markers from any incendiary device well before it poses a threat. August has the most sensitive nose, so my guess is they snap a collar from PetCity on him and make him search the building in wolf form.”

Hayden edged her way into our circle. Tonight she had on one of Daisy Addiction’s band tees, ripped skinny jeans, and platform Doc Martens. “The last time, this poodle totally tried to get to second base with him. Ethan practically had to carry me out of there, I was laughing so hard.” She poked me in the arm. “I see you finally made it to one of my shows.”

“Yeah. Sorry. Been busy.”

The night I’d finally escaped from vampire captivity, I’d tried to warn their next target before it was too late. Instead, I’d lost control and bitten her. To her credit, Hayden seemed more interested in making fun of my taste in music than hashing out the ten degrees of weirdness we both should have felt about what had happened that night. I was the one who couldn’t let it go. And I hated myself for it.

Hayden grabbed a tray, went to the nearest table, and began loading dirty coffee cups onto it. “I heard you were back at work. Please tell me they’re letting you drive the ambulance.”

“Sometimes. Usually I’m in back with the patient.”

“And you like your new team, everyone’s treating you okay?” She searched my face, genuinely concerned.

The ugly gnawing sensation in my stomach returned. I should have been the one trying to make things up to Hayden. I’d bitten her at the full moon. Burned her trailer to the ground in a fit of feral wolf madness. Instead, she was always looking out for me. “Yeah. Everyone’s been great.”

West crossed his arms. “Why would they cut and run? There were two of them. Dark street. They could have flashed down there and taken us out.”

“Probably assumed we were armed.”

“Maybe.” He sounded doubtful.