Page 45 of Last Flame

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“Well, he’s not in the box now.” A lifetime of that man lecturing us about staying together, and he evaporates inside a hallway.

Rayner’s a statue. Leif’s a rumor. Somebody has to deal with Erik.

So it’s me. Of course it’s me.

A cabinet opens in the kitchen. Closes. Water runs.

Erik hasn’t moved. He’s just sitting there with the face of a guy who got caught and figures he’ll enjoy it.

“What is this?” I say.

“What?”

I point at all of it. “That.”

“It’s a long story.”

“I doubt that.”

“Gunnar—” I don’t react. I know Brock’s voice when he thinks I’m going to do something stupid.

“You shot up off her so fast when the door went I thought you’d flown. Now you’re right back in it.”

“It’s a pull-out.”

“You’re grinning at me, Erik.”

Behind me, Brock moves close enough I can feel the heat coming off of him.

“Let him explain.” Low, right at my ear. “I want to hear how he says it.”

The words move against the side of my neck and stay there.

I don’t lean back. For the record.

The sound of something shattering comes from the kitchen.

“Shit.”

The sound of a broom follows.

Erik’s grin gets bigger.

I look back at the monstrosity Erik is sitting on, and he catches me looking.

“What? It’s for a guest, you know. It’s what you do when someone stays over.”

“Go on.”

“I’m just crashing here for a few nights until this thing with her ex blows over. That’s all it is. A comfortable place for somebody to sleep.”

“She built you a nest.”

I say it to get a rise out of him. It’s the worst word I’ve got and Erik squirming is the best thing I’ve seen all night, so I use it.

“I didn’t ask her to—”

“She built you a nest.”

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