Page 15 of Shark’s Rise

I pushed past him to get a mug from the cupboard and then helped myself to a cup of tea instead. I wasn’t about to get into another argument with the man, especially after the fabulous mood I’d woken up in. But I couldn’t even enjoy that for two seconds, because I’d now reminded myself about being concerned about Bas’s schedule.

“Hey,” I murmured, turning toward him. “How long are you staying? Do you have to go back this morning already?”

I already dreaded the answer. At once, he seemed to sense that. He always did. The man could read me like his own illuminated manuscript. It was why I didn’t hesitate as soon as he held his arms open for me to come to him. I snuggled into his chest and just enjoyed the feeling of his embrace. I hated how much I didn’t want to be sequestered in this house with his best friend. How much I hated not being invited to pack my things and leave with him. Whenever that might be.

When would that be?

“So I trust you slept well?” He smirked down at me, heating up the crackle of energy between us. The mutual understanding about exactly how good my sleep really was.

“I did.” I grinned too. “How about you? What time did you get up?” I leaned in, flattening a hand to his chest. The move was blatantly needy, but I didn’t care. “I didn’t even hear your shower. I would’ve been happy to join you.” Yeah. Needy. Still didn’t care.

“Hmm, I like that idea. Maybe tomorrow morning?”

He studied my features closely while we spoke. Shit, maybe the color hadn’t returned as well as I thought. But I liked the intense focus of his attention. A lot. “You’re staying?” I blurted. The happiness in my voice couldn’t be missed.

“For a few days, if that’s okay with you?” The mischief in his couldn’t be missed either.

“Well, you better clear it with that one.” I motioned to his buddy with a tilt of my head. “He’s the heavy around here.”

“That’s not the story I’m hearing.”

Bas was still teasing, but I wasn’t amused. Not in the least. I jerked out of his arms, planting my hands on my hips. “Oh, really? And what have you heard? Exactly?”

I started a new ping-pong match of my accusing glare, back and forth between the formidable men in front of me. But not for very long. Elijah’s groan swiftly broke the moment.

“Oh, dude,” he groused. “Why did you say that? I’m the one who’s stuck here with her.”

“And it’s such a hardship,” I countered. “I mean, right? I’ve told you before, Mr. Banks”—I all but spat his name—“I’d gladly like to declare your post done. I didn’t ask for this bullshit. You recall that little fact too, yes?”

Elijah didn’t answer me. Well, not in words. He said enough by raising a brow at Sebastian.

And that was more than enough of that. “What?” I seethed.

Sebastian let out a long breath. “Baby,” he finally murmured and held out his hand. “Come here.”

He turned his hand over and hitched his outstretched fingers. I didn’t move. I just stared at his offering. His damn bidding.

Until he raised an expectant brow of his own.

I probably looked like an obedient little dog coming to heel. But the second Sebastian folded me back into his embrace, my spine relaxed. My breathing evened. My ire leaked out through my toes and fingertips. In Sebastian’s arms, I barely had a care in the world. He was the Abbigail Whisperer.

My boyfriend kissed the top of my head and gently stroked my hair. That didn’t stop my awareness of Elijah’s new assessment. The man’s hazel eyes were practically boring holes into my back. Before long, I was visibly squirming against the confines of Bas’s hold.

“Hey. What is it, Little Red?”

I twisted my lips before whispering, “Tell him to stop staring at us.”

“Huh?” His voice was hushed, as well. “Why does that bother you? He’s interested in the way we interact. He’s never seen me in love with a woman before. He and I have known each other for a long time. Elijah cares about me.”

“Yes, but he doesn’t care about me. Not in the slightest. Quite the opposite, I’m afraid.”

“Is that what’s bothering you?” His breath was warm atop of my head. There was a distinct smile in his tone. “You two are like oil and water, aren’t you?”

“It would seem that way.”

“And that irks you. Or…confuses you?”

“Both.” I smushed my nose to his sternum. “I’m not used to not getting along with people.”