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Memphis snorts. “She might cut your balls off, man. She’s always been big on trying to be independent since she never had the chance.”
“I look forward to it.” I snicker.
“You like her,” Silas adds, and I nod.
“Does she know that?” Memphis asks.
“I want her to heal,” I say as we get into my truck to drive home. I would give my heart to her.
I pull into the driveway and park, my eyes drifting to the other person I want, as everyone else exits the vehicle. I sit there, staring for a moment.
He’s putting something on the grill and smiling at Snow. It warms my heart. And I’m still thinking about the kiss. I want to kiss him and then her.
Fuck.
“You okay?” Memphis asks, approaching the window.
“Yeah, why?”
“Because you’re still in the car, and you almost ripped the steering wheel off. Your face is flushed like you want to come in your shorts.” Silas chuckles, taking off toward the grill.
Memphis just shakes his head, a smirk on his lips, and follows.
Well, then . . . Fuck me.
Not a lie, I probably could come right now, just watching Shane and Snow interact. I sigh and slide out, waving at Ever as I put an arm around Snow.
She freezes slightly until she realizes it’s me.
“Hey. How was training?”
I smile down at her, glad that she cares about what I’m doing in my life. “It was good. Oscar will be here in a bit. Silas really put him through the ringer.”
“Are you sure he’s still alive?” she deadpans, and Silas roars with laughter.
“I’m alive. Barely.” Oscar is grinning when we turn around.
“Oh, good. I didn’t want to have to beat up the teddy bear,” she says, grinning back.
“Oy. Not you, too?” Silas mock-whines.
“Only love for you.” Snow smiles at him.
I would be jealous, but she’s just a sweet person, and Silas and Axel have been there for her just as much as Shane and me. She takes a beer and goes to talk to Ever and Skye. I’m surprised she’s still out here—it’s a big step for her. I observe her for a minute before moving closer to Shane.
“You need a shower,” he mutters.
“Want to take one with me?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. I know he’ll say no, but I wish it was yes. Someday.
“Um . . .” He hesitates, so it’s not a no.
“Later,” I whisper in his ear. It’s a promise that we will explore everything regarding his confusion about his attraction.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, changing the subject.
“Starving. Thanks for lunch. I would say it was good, but some asshole ate the whole thing.” I gesture to Memphis.
“I was hungry,” he whines, making a face.
