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“This is it. Z, you wanna do the honours?”
At his words, Zayde paused the game, digging in his pocket and pulling out a small object. He pressed it with his thumb and a blade sprang out.
More knives. Why was I not surprised?
He carefully sliced the box open, then sat back, letting Weston take over again. Pure excitement filled his eyes as he reached into the box, bringing out various objects one by one, all packaged in bubble wrap, which he laid out on the coffee table next to the box.
“This is better than Christmas.” His grin was contagious, and I couldn’t help smiling in return, as he began the tedious task of unwrapping all the layers of bubble wrap.
Cassius sat on the floor, leaning against the sofa, his head next to Kinslee’s legs and his own legs stretched out in front of him. “Hey, Kins? You any good at head massages, babe? I’ve got a banging headache.”
She tutted and rolled her eyes, but I saw her smile. “If I must. But you owe me one, okay?”
“Deal.”
Kinslee moved, seating herself with her legs either side of his head, then leaned forwards, dragging her fingers through his hair, across his scalp.
He groaned. “Yeah, that’s it, baby. Your hands are magic.”
“So I’ve been told,” she said dryly.
“You wanna give me a head massage, too?” Cade spoke next to my ear, his voice all low and husky. I was about to reply, when Zayde interjected.
“It’s like a fucking massage parlour in here. Next you’ll be—”
“Happy endings massage!” Cassius exclaimed, drowning him out. “You up for doing that, Kinslee?”
“No.” She swatted lightly at the side of his head before continuing to massage him, and he laughed.
“It was worth a try. Now, West, you ready to show us what you’ve got?”
I made a mental note to ask Caiden what was up
with Zayde, later. Not that he’d probably tell me, but I couldn’t help wondering if something was going on. He’d been more irritable than usual today. Maybe it was me, but something about him seemed off.
Gathering my thoughts, I returned my focus to the items Weston now had out on display on the table, discarded bubble wrap lying around everywhere. I reached for a piece and started popping it absent-mindedly, as Weston shuffled through the objects, inspecting each one carefully.
“Chuck me a bit of that bubble wrap, will ya?” Cass asked in a low tone. I passed him one of the sheets, and he started popping it, too.
Zayde gave both of us an icy glare, and I shrugged, continuing to pop the little air-filled bubbles.
“Focus, Snowflake,” Cade muttered in my ear, then kissed the side of my face, running his hand over my stomach to soften his words.
“Sorry. Here, you have a go. It’s really relaxing.”
He took the bubble wrap from my hands. “I haven’t done this for years.”
“Can. Everyone. Stop. With. The. Fucking. Bubble. Wrap.” Zayde’s voice sliced through the room like a knife, sharp and cutting. He sounded like he was at the very limits of his patience, and my head shot up to see the full force of his icy glare directed at the sofa we were sitting on.
Did I ever mention he had serial killer eyes? There they were.
“Fuck, he’s scary when he does that.” Kinslee shivered, ripping the bubble wrap from Cassius’ hands and throwing it over the arm of the sofa where it fell to the floor.
West just stared between us, a kind of wild, trapped look on his face, like he really didn’t want to be in here with us.
“Okay, enough. We’ve had our fun. West. Tell us what you’ve got there,” Cade commanded, breaking the sudden tension in the room.
“Uh. Everyone ready?” He held up the first item. It looked like a tiny box to me, black and rectangular, reminding me a bit of a car key fob. “GPS tracker.”
