Page 16 of Rest In Knotty Pieces

Then he’d turned and walked away. Of course, Rolly and I played with the toys, but then, we were hungry, so we came back.

I mean, we need to eat after such a good ride.

And then being here just seemed easier than being elsewhere.

There’s been an uneasy truce between the four of us since then, punctuated by sporadic episodes of Rolly testing his limits and me feeling like this alpha is winning a game I didn’t know we were playing.

“What’s their deal? Who are they?”

Sage frowns a little and doesn’t answer straight away.

I go to the fridge, watching him carefully. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the unflappable leader of this mismatched group is absolutely flapped. He’s not smiling, he’s looking inwards.

I bite my cheek and crack my knuckles before I reach for a beer.

“No drinking!” Sage bites out with asharp smile.

I raise my eyebrows and open the beer, then slowly bring it to my lips. His eyes darken, but the smile stays in place.

“How the fuck are you going to stop me?” I laugh and put my lips on the bottle.

He brings his hand up and blows dust into my face. I rear back, coughing.

“What was that?”

Sage mutters about unpleasant, stubborn alphas. My legs get wobbly and give out, but he’s there dragging me up against the hard strength of his chest. I didn’t expect it to be this hard.

I get the giggles.

I have never once fucking giggled, but I do now. It’s like I’m locked inside my head looking outwards on my body, which just seems to be doing whatever the fuck it wants.

“What’s in zit?” I slur.

Sage pats my cheek. “It will wear off in a minute.”

He lowers me to the floor and pats my head like I’m a dog. I growl but end up spitting on his pants.

I stare at the ball of spit, watching as it dribbles down, marring the perfection of his black jeans.

“That was gross, King.”

I giggle again.

Absolutely mortifying.

My head clears as he wanders around the kitchen pulling out everything he needs to cook dinner.

I struggle up, it takes longer than I would like, but I get up on my knees and lift my head with effort.

“You drugged me!”

“I did.”

I jump up and charge him. He steps to the side and out of reach. I swing, but he brings up a frying pan. It hurts.

“Stop fighting. We’re going to have to talk about what’s going to happen soon, and I need you coherent.”

“And not under the influence of whatever youjust puffed into my face?”