Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 47714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Axle sighed. “Gonna bring up the last box. You two try not to blow a hole through the drywall.”
Edge’s voice cut in from the living room again. “You got a hammer?”
“Toolbox by the door,” Nitro replied.
Something crashed—probably Edge’s ego hitting the floor.
“It’s fine,” he called. “It’s supposed to look like that.”
Their voices bounced around the small space, easy like they’d been doing this for decades. Brotherhood built from scars. I didn’t join in. I stayed at the counter, my hands working through plates and glasses I barely saw.
Alanna giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. I saw her shoulders shake in the reflection of the microwave door and caught myself almost smiling. Almost.
By the time the sun started dropping behind the trees, most of her things were unpacked. The apartment looked lived in—books on the shelf, her laptop open on the small dining table, and a throw blanket draped over the couch. It looked like a home. Or close enough to it.
Leaning her hip against the door frame, she watched the guys file out one by one. Edge brushed dust from his jeans and told her to call if anything broke, preferably before Jax tried to fix it.
Rev clapped me on the shoulder as he passed. “We’re heading out. You got this locked down?”
“Yeah.”
Nitro gave Alanna a lazy, two-finger salute. “If anything breaks, you call Drift. He’ll fix it.”
She smiled. “Will do.”
Axle brushed dust from his jeans, then sauntered through the door. “Expect you to let us know if you need anything. Don’t want Jax getting hurt when he tries to kick my ass for not taking care of his little sister.”
“Yeah, because you’re under our protection now.” Edge’s grin didn’t quite hide the steel beneath it. “No one fucks with what’s ours.”
Her eyes flicked to me then—quick and curious. My throat went tight. Then she looked back at Edge as she chuckled. “Got it. Thanks for helping today.”
“Anytime.” His grin softened at the edges, genuine beneath the mischief. “Welcome home, sweetheart.”
She blushed faintly but didn’t look away. “Thanks.”
When the door shut behind them, the apartment went quiet. I checked the window locks out of habit. Old instincts. Always the last man standing, always the one watching the exits.
Alanna stood near the couch, tracing her finger along the edge of one of the framed photos she’d unpacked—she and Jax, when she was a kid and he was a teenager, laughing like they didn’t live in a cage.
She looked up when I turned. “Thanks for today.”
I shook my head. “You’re family.” The words came out rougher than I meant.
“Still.” Her voice softened. “It means a lot.”
I didn’t trust my voice, so I just nodded, my jaw aching from how hard I was clenching it.
She tilted her head, studying me. “You okay?”
“Fine.”
“You’ve barely said anything all day.”
“Don’t have anything worth saying.”
That earned a small smile. “You always like this?”
“Only when I’m awake.”
She laughed then, low and real. The sound slid under my skin, hot and dangerous. She was so damn alive. So unaware of how easily she could unravel me just by existing in the same room.
“You hungry?” she asked after a pause. “I could order something. Pizza? Chinese?”
“Don’t worry about it. You’ve had a long day.”
“So have you. And I really think I owe you dinner.”
“Don’t owe me a thing.”
Disappointment flickered in her eyes, gone just as quickly as it had come. But I saw, and it hit like a punch to my gut. I hated that I’d wiped away her enchanting smile. I forced myself to step back and grabbed my lighter from my pocket even though I didn’t smoke anymore. My thumb rolled over the worn metal out of habit.
“Need anything before I head out?” My voice came out too low and tight.
She shook her head, then hesitated. “Just…thanks, Drift. Really.”
I almost told her to call me Chance, my real name. Even though I knew how stupid it would be.
The internal struggle disappeared when she crossed the space between us and wrapped her arms around me.
Every muscle in my body locked up. She pressed herself against me, warm and soft. My hands hovered, then landed lightly on her back because not touching her would’ve been worse. Her heartbeat fluttered against my chest. I breathed her in like oxygen I didn’t deserve.
Two seconds. Not long enough to be a mistake, but long enough to ruin me. That’s all it took to burn her into my skin.
She pulled back, smiling up at me. “You’re kind of impossible, you know that?”
I managed a nod. My throat felt raw. “Yeah, I’ve heard.”
She walked me to the door, bare feet padding against the floor. I stepped out into the warm evening, the air thick with the scent of the sea. When I looked back, she was still standing there—arms folded loosely and lips curved like she wanted to say something but didn’t.