Page 15 of Riot

I unscrewed my water bottle cap and took a drink before answering. My mouth wanted to smile already. “Tomorrow evening.”

He shifted closer to hear me over the music and the kids tearing through the hydrant spray. The side of his arm brushed mine for a second.

“At the rec center?” he asked.

I looked out at the lot for a beat then back at him. Reaper was still talking shit two tables down. Drift was flicking ash into a crushed soda can. Nobody was paying us much mind.

“No,” I said. “I meant with me.”

Calvin blinked once. Then he looked down at his cup like it might have something helpful to say. His mouth twitched.

“That sounded almost smooth,” he said.

“Almost?”

He rolled the empty cup between both hands. A kid shrieked near the curb. Someone laughed too loud by the coolers. Calvin glanced toward the noise then back at me with that same small smile that kept sneaking out all day.

“It was good,” he said. “I just don’t want you getting cocky.”

I huffed a laugh and set my bottle on the picnic table behind me. “Too late for that.”

“Tomorrow night.” His mouth twitched. “I’d like that.”

I was down bad and didn’t care. “Me too.”

Chapter Four

Riot

Seven the following morning, I stood in the lot with a whopping headache and a coffee that tasted like burnt ass. The morning air still had some coolness in it but felt good breathing it in. Already the bay doors were cracked open, music playing low enough I caught only bass and muffled vocals. I took another sip off the coffee before heading in.

Mayhem stood at the workbench with a cup of coffee in one hand and a look on his face that said he’d been awake too long already. Merk leaned against the tool chest, reading something on his phone.

“Tell me we’re not taking your truck,” I said to Merk as I cleared the bay door.

Without looking up, he slid the phone into his pocket. “Morning to you too, princess.”

From near the mini fridge, I tossed the first cup and grabbed another, hoping the second tasted better. “You keep driving like an asshole, and I’m filing a complaint.”

From the corner, Mayhem snorted. He set his cup down and pushed off the bench. “You’d have to know how to write first.”

“You wound me,” I said. “Deeply.”

Merk’s mouth twitched. “Good. Get your shit. We’re rolling. Guns aren’t going to restock themselves.” He tilted his head, rubbing his chin. “Though that would be fucking amazing if they could. Stock instantly replenished.”

“Could still be sleeping,” Mayhem said. “Shit. Forgot to get that ten from Reaper.” He grinned. “Never doubted your boy would show. Just doubted his judgment. Look who he’s crushing on.”

“Consider yourself lucky I’m not awake enough for that to be an insult.” I took another drink and looked between them. “We doing this before breakfast because Preacher hates a well-fed wolf?”

“Pretty much.” Mayhem picked up the Pookie sign and dusted it off. I grinned. Crowbar had been gone for Spencer, a small human who’d called Crowbar Pookie in front of the entire pack. Done deal. Not a chance they’d let that slide. Deadeye had the sign made to fuck with Crowbar. Worked until Spencer said he loved it. Now Crowbar’s love-sick ass grinned anytime he glanced at it.

Made me think of Calvin. I had his number stored in my phone. Couldn’t remember having a better time. My wolf had tracked Calvin’s every step, and it had me wondering if­—

“Fuck!” My cup hit the floor, coffee splashing my pant leg as pain erupted in my chest. It felt like someone had punched my sternum with a concrete fist.

Mayhem and Merk stood there frowning at me.

Then Mayhem’s brow shot up, and his mouth twisted into a grin. “Your wolf just chose Calvin, didn’t it?”