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“Catch.”
Before I understand his meaning, he tosses me out the back of the plane. I scream all the way down. Oz catches me with ease, wrapping me up in his arms as he laughs hysterically.
As I struggle to catch my breath, my fear is quickly replaced by anger. When I struggle to get free, Oz lowers me to my feet just in time for Zig to jump down and land in front of me. I don’t think of the consequences. I’m so done being afraid. Instead, I stomp over to him and punch him in the chest.
When I realize it hurt me more than him, my anger ramps up to nuclear levels, so I punch him again, making him grin broadly. I’m pretty sure, at this point, steam is coming out of my ears, and I look like a demented cartoon character. I growl at him and rain down the most pathetic of slaps across the brick wall masquerading as a chest until I tire out. Why did my mother have to raise a lover, not a fighter?
My shoulders slump as he finally unfolds his arms. “Feel better?”
I look up, ready to tear him a new one, when I realize my anger has burned out, taking with it the mind-numbing fear. Yes, I’m still afraid, but it’s not eating me from the inside out. “You did that on purpose.”
“You needed an outlet.”
“I could have hurt you.”
Oz laughs behind me.
“Luckily, I have a healer to kiss me better.” I don’t know who is more surprised by Zig’s comment. Me, him, or Oz.
“Did he… Is he… Was that… Are you flirting?” Oz chokes out.
Zig looks at him with murder in his eyes. I slap a hand over my mouth to try and hold back my laughter, but Zig catches it anyway.
“Oh, you think he’s funny, huh?” He prowls forward, making me back up, but I have nowhere to go. Instead, I collide with Oz, who steadies me with his hands on my hips.
“I’m not laughing. You’re right. It’s not funny.”
“Hmmm…” He peers down at me speculatively.
“It’s true, scout’s honor.”
“You weren’t a scout.” He shakes his head, his lips twitching.
“No, but I always wanted to be, and that’s kind of the same thing.”
“So, you weren’t laughing at the thought of kissing me?” His voice takes on a husky tone.
Kissing him? Who laughs at something like that? I shake my head. “No.”
Then he shocks the shit out of me by dropping his head and pressing his mouth against mine. I freeze. Shocked beyond belief. I mean, yes, they’ve been pretty tactile, but I thought they were just being nice.
He pulls back when I don’t respond and looks down at me with a worried frown. It takes me a second to realize he’s backing away as if he’s worried he’s overstepped. Without thinking, I grab a handful of his shirt and pull him back toward me.
He doesn’t put up a fight, though this time when our lips touch, it’s softer than before. He lets me take the lead, tentatively exploring him as Oz’s hands flex on my hips.
Oz’s hands.
Shit.
I break away from Zig’s kiss and look at Oz, my skin burning hot. Instead of looking pissed or jealous, he looks—dare I say it—turned on. Slowly he moves in, his hand moving up to cup my jaw as he turns me more fully into him and kisses me.
His kiss is different from his brother’s. He doesn’t hold back, but I know somewhere in the back of my head that if I pull away, he’d let me.
When I feel like I might pass out from system overload, he retreats, placing a soft peck on my nose. “Okay?”
Now? He asks me that now?! I look between him and Zig and fail to come up with any kind of sentence.
“Salem?” Zig lifts his hand and slides a strand of hair behind my ear. “It was too much. We pushed too soon. Fuck, I’m sorry.”
