Chapter Six
Wolfe
This/That - Naits
I’ve always had a weakness for good music, good liquor, and pretty people who know exactly what they’re doing.
A few hours later, that weakness has me half buzzed, loose in the shoulders, and standing in a house that’s gone warm and wild around the edges.
The party’s fuller now, louder too, bass humming through the floorboards while laughter spills from the kitchen to the deck every time the back door slides open.
The air smells like sweat, summer, beer, and whatever perfume Echo’s wearing, and every time she drifts back between me and Thorne, smiling like she knows she’s trouble, the night kicks a little harder under my skin.
She’s been with us for the better part of the last few hours.
Dancing, drinking, and laughing. Sliding so easily into our orbit it feels like she’s always been there, like the three of us found a rhythm somewhere between the music and the liquor and never bothered stepping out of it.
Thorne’s looser now too, his cheeks a little flushed, and his grin easier than usual, still carrying that same playful edge he had outside when he was flirting with her earlier, all charm and smart mouth and that look he gets when he lets himself just be in the moment, without worrying about what people might think.
And me?
I’m exactly where I like to be.
Good music. Good company, and warm bodies brushing mine like none of us are in any hurry to move away. And somehow the night suddenly feels a lot more interesting than any of us expected it to.
Echo looks between us like she’s weighing something up. Her pretty dark eyes are sharp, giving away almost nothing unless she wants it to. Up close, she’s even prettier than I clocked back out on the driveway.
Not polished-pretty though. She’s all edges and heat and that restless kind of energy.
Echo sets her drink down, steps in close, and catches a fistful of my shirt and Thorne’s like she’s made up her mind for all three of us.
Then she tugs us into her.
It’s playful, but there’s intent behind it. She brings us right into her space, close enough that my hand goes to her waist on instinct while Thorne’s hand lands at her hip a second later. He lets out this quiet laugh, surprised by it.
The bass is deep enough to feel in my ribs as Echo sways between us, brushing against one, then the other, turning her head so her hair slides over my shoulder before she twists toward Thorne.
She leans back into me for a beat, warm and loose, then rolls forward again toward him, smiling when his hand tightens at her hip.
I watch her.
Then I watch him.
Thorne’s still grinning, still trying to play it off like this is all harmless fun, but I know him too well for that.
I catch the little changes. The way his shoulders square.
The way his breath catches when Echo presses closer against him.
The way he tenses up when things start feeling a little too real.
That’s always how it is with him.
He’ll flirt all day long. Throw a grin at a girl, run his mouth, and make everybody in the room laugh. Outside earlier, he’d been doing exactly that with Echo, all swagger and pretty-boy confidence, and of course she’d eaten it up.
Dudes hot, charming, and he knows how to use both.
But this is different.
This has me in it and that’s exactly where he starts getting twitchy.
My hand shifts on Echo’s waist as she turns between us again, and this time my knuckles brush Thorne’s where he’s holding her.
His blue eyes flick to mine, just for a second, but I still catch it.
The heat. The awareness. That sharp little pause that always shows up between us right before he tries to laugh something off.
I know what it means.
Hell, I’ve known for a while now.
I’m not confused about myself. I like who I like. Men, women, whatever hits right. It’s never felt worth lying to myself over. Thorne’s not confused either, no matter how much he likes to act like he is when the mood turns honest.
He likes women, sure, but I know damn well he likes men too. He’s not unsure, he’s just not ready to say it.
Echo glances between us, catches something in the silence, then smiles like she’s just found the exact thread she wants to pull, and by the look on her face, I know damn well she intends to pull it.
“There it is,” she murmurs.
Thorne leans in. “There what is?”
“That.”
She doesn’t explain, just smirks coyly as she lets the song carry her between us, then turns so her back brushes my chest for a second before she twists toward Thorne, hands sliding up his shoulders. He laughs, startled, and glances at me like I’m supposed to do something about this.
I just lift a brow, and he gives me a look that says shut up.
Echo catches both our hands again and brings them back to her waist, one stacked over the other as she continues to sway to the music, her arms, waving above her head.
He stills as my hand covers his, and I feel it all the way down my spine.
Echo tips her head back against my shoulder just enough to look at him. “You two are dangerously obvious, you know that?”
Thorne lets out a sharp laugh, all mock offense and just a little too quick to be natural. “Obvious about what, exactly?”
Her smile turns slow. Wicked. “Oh, come on. Don’t make me spell it out.”
He scoffs, but there’s color rising in his cheeks now, and I catch it before he can turn his head. “You’re chatting absolute shit.”
“Am I?” she asks, dragging the words out like she’s clearly enjoying every second of this.
“Yes,” he says immediately. “Massively.”
I hum into my beer, watching him over the rim.
His eyes cut to mine.
There it is.
That fucking look.
Half challenge, half warning, and all it does is make the corner of my mouth twitch.
“See?” she says, glancing between us. “That. Right there. Fuck you two are hot.”
Thorne actually chokes on a laugh at that. “Bloody Christ.”
I grin. “I mean, she’s got a point.”
He stares at me like I’ve personally betrayed him. “Oh, you can fuck off too.”
“Bit defensive, mate.” I smirk, mockingly.
“Bit smug, aren’t you?”
“Only because you’re easier than you think to read.”
His jaw tightens just slightly, and for a second he goes quiet in that way he always does when something gets a little too close to the truth.
Echo watches him like she’s enjoying the view. “Yeah,” she says softly, almost to herself. “Knew it.”
Thorne points at her with his drink. “You are a goddamn menace.”
Her smile only gets prettier. “And I think you like that.”
He opens his mouth to deny it.
Looks at her, then at me, and whatever he was about to say seems to die on the way out.
I hold his gaze for a beat too long on purpose, let him feel that I see straight through him, then lift my brows just slightly.
His expression says don’t, but mine, mine probably says too fucking late.
Echo laughs and slips out from between us, still holding our hands for half a second before letting go.
Thorne drags a hand through his hair and glances toward the front of the house. “As much as I’d love to stay here and let you keep stirring shit, it’s late, innit? We’ve gotta be at the garage early.”
As much as I hate how easily he’s dismissing whats clearly going on here, he’s right.
The party’s tipped into that loose, late-night blur now. The music is too loud, drinks half-finished on every flat surface, and everybody is a little warmer and messier than they were a couple hours ago.
Echo tips her head. “So go.”
Thorne snorts. “Alright. Cheers, sweetheart.”
I laugh and finish the last swallow of my beer. “Are you heading out too?”
“Eventually,” she says, continuing to sway to the music.
That answer sits wrong with me straight away.
Not because I think she can’t handle herself.
She very obviously can. But she’s had a few drinks, the party’s getting sloppier by the minute, and I’ve seen enough late nights go sideways to know it only takes one bad decision, one creep reading the room wrong, one moment of thinking you’re fine when you’re just buzzed enough not to be careful.
“How’re you getting home?” I ask.
She lifts one shoulder, all casual. “Uh I don’t know yet, but it’s cool, I’ll figure it out when the time comes.”
“That’s a piss-poor idea, that.” Thorne says.
“Relax. I can just call a RideNow.”
I glance at the bottle still in her hand, then back at her face. “Or.”
Her eyes flick to mine, already knowing exactly where this is going.
“Or,” she repeats.
Thorne points at me with his bottle and lets out a knowing little laugh. “Yeah, I’ve clocked that look. He’s doing the whole knight-in-shining-armour bit. And I’m fine, before anyone says otherwise—only had one beer. I’m good to ride.”
“Same,” I say.
He nods once. “So let’s just take her home, yeah?”
I look back at Echo. “You’ve had a few drinks, and I’m not wild about the idea of you figuring it out on your own this late.”
Something shifts in her expression then. Small, but there.
Thorne catches it too, because his voice softens when he adds, “He’s right, love.”
I hold her gaze. “So either we take you home, or we stand here arguing until you let us.”
Her mouth curves, slow and pretty.
Thorne jerks his chin toward us, grin sharp. “Might as well, love. If you’ve got any sense, you’ll take the offer from the two fittest bastards here. I mean, riding off with one of the Speed Demons is basically half the fantasy round Tampa, innit? Only problem is, I didn’t bring a spare helmet.”
“She can wear mine,” I say.
That gets a look from both of them.
Thorne’s grin turns crooked. “Of bloody course she can.”
I ignore him and hold Echo’s gaze.
“You’re riding with me.”
She studies my face for a second, probably checking whether I’m joking.
I’m not.
Then she says, “All right, cowboy.”
The nickname lands warmer than it should.
Thorne snorts. “Cowboy?”
“Canadian,” I correct automatically.
Echo smiles, bright and wicked. “Close enough.”
We head for the front, weaving through the tail end of the party, and the night air hits warm and damp the second we step outside.