Page 149 of When Darkness Calls

When we reach the truck, no one speaks as we pile in, leaving me wedged between Grayson and Keeg, Cade driving and Alex in the passenger seat. Nick follows behind us on his own motorcycle closely.

Traffic is sparse as most people abandon their cars, taking to the woods for cover. As we cruise through the empty streets, making our way to Grayson’s house in silence, my mind only focuses on one thing.

If Issac was so excited to watch Ethan fight, then where the hell was he?

forty-three

Grayson

“Up and at ‘em, sweet girl. We got shit to do today!” I yell from the door of my bathroom into my—our—bedroom. Dani’s curled up in a cocoon of blankets, her nose barely peeking out from the comforter covering her face.

She groans, untangling her arm to flip me off. I chuckle, walking over to kiss the part of her nose I can see.

“We’re spending the day in my studio,” I coo, and her eyes snap open.

“Your studio? In the garage?” Her voice is hopeful, excitement shining in her sleep dazed eyes.

“Yes, baby. The studio in my garage.”

She’s out of bed before I have time to move away from her, blankets soaring through the air. Her ass is peeking out from beneath my t-shirt as she runs down the hall, bare feet padding against hardwood.

I could get seriously used to this.

From the kitchen I can hear her rummaging around with the pots under the sink.

“You make the coffee, I got the pancakes!” She shouts at me. I walk after her, towel still wrapped around my waist from my shower, wet curls slightly dripping.

I get the coffee pot started as she hums by the stove, back to me.

When the water starts percolating, I walk up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist, planting a kiss to her jaw.

“So, all I got to do is say we’re playing around in my studio, and you wake up a happy go-lucky girl, huh?”

She smacks me, pausing when she notices her hand hitting my wet skin.

Dani turns around, assessing me. Eyes lingering on the way the towel sits on my hips, the light blue fabric contrasting with the dark ink painted across my skin.

She licks her lips, cocking her head to the side.

“Why did you get roses?” Her fingers run lightly along one of the black and gray petals, before following along the path of thorns wrapping around my bicep and up along my collar bone.

“Why did you?” I mimic her, trailing my fingers along her thigh, up her side, settling my hand around her ribs.

“My mom,” she murmurs, hand unconsciously going to her waist, settling on mine.

“Same here.” I kiss her cheek, turning to the coffee pot, making each of us a cup.

“What are we doing in the studio?” She asks, piling a plate with three pancakes, before adding two to another, sliding them across the counter.

I pick them up and take them to the table, plopping down.

“You’re not going to put clothes on?” She laughs.

“Nope,” I cut a piece of syrupy goodness, stuffing it in my mouth with a happy sigh.

“Okay then,” she mumbles, pulling my shirt over her head.

Underneath it she’s only wearing black panties cut like shorts. The fabric hugs her hips, and when she turns to grab the milk from the fridge, I can see that it cuts right along the curve of her ass.