Page 4 of Break Me

She moves like she knows the world rearranges itself just to make room for her.

I drag a hand across my jaw, trying like hell to focus. It doesn’t work.

“Wolf.” Her voice slides down my spine. I close my eyes for half a second, just half, then turn.

Raven stands a few feet away, hands wrapped around a paper coffee tray, snow melting into the shoulders of her jacket. She’s smiling, but it’s the warmth in her eyes that hits hardest—soft, knowing, and too familiar.

“I brought you a coffee,” she says, lifting a cup from the tray.

“For me?” I wipe my hands on a rag. “Or for Knox’s best friend, who keeps fixing your car for free?”

Her grin widens. “Why can’t it be both?”

I reach for the cup, and her gaze drops to my split knuckles.

“What happened?” she asks, voice dipping lower.

“Nothing,” I say too fast.

She lifts a brow. “Those don’t look like nothing.”

I flex my hand, instantly regretting it when the sting flares. “Just work.”

She steps closer, close enough that the cold lifts off her in waves. “Right. Because my engine clearly picked a fight with you this morning.”

Movement behind her catches my attention. Knox shifts his weight, arms crossed, watching us like he senses something but hasn’t decided if it’s worth commenting on.

Raven glances back at him, barely hiding the small eye roll she’s perfected after a lifetime of being Knox’s sister. Then she gives him a tiny shrug. He’ll get over it, her expression says when she looks at me again. There’s a hint of mischief tucked in the corner of her smile.

“It’s handled,” I mutter. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she murmurs, voice low. “I paid for it this time.”

When she pulls back, my pulse is a damn hammer. I take the coffee because not taking it would say more than taking it does. Her fingers graze mine, warm and gentle. My chest tightens in a way no amount of self-control can soften.

Knox clears his throat, and we both straighten.

Raven tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. I take a long drink of coffee I can’t taste.

“Knox says you’re coming by tonight,” she says, casual as anything.

I blink. “I am?”

Before she can answer, Knox steps forward from behind her, closing the distance with a heavy, deliberate stride. One that always means pay attention. He plants himself beside Raven, eyes locked on me like he’s checking for damage. “Clubhouse dinner. Everyone’s expected. That includes you.”

His tone doesn’t leave room for argument, but it isn’t about the dinner. It’s about the way Raven’s standing close enough to me that he felt the need to insert himself into the space.

“Right,” I say. Brotherhood. Obligation.

And Raven.

She looks up at me, waiting for my answer, even though she pretends she isn’t.

“Yeah,” I say. “I’ll be there.”

Something softens in her expression. Barely. But I catch it. Knox catches it, too.

His jaw ticks once before he turns his attention back to me. “Good,” he says. “We need to go over some shit from last night.”