Chapter Eight
Riot
The night air cooled against my skin as we pulled out of the compound, Calvin’s arms wrapped around my waist with less death-grip panic and more settled warmth than when we’d arrived.
His fingers had found the edge of my cut and hooked there, a subtle anchor that made my wolf rumble with satisfaction.
The ride to his place took fifteen minutes through quiet streets and darker stretches where the streetlights grew farther apart.
Calvin’s neighborhood sat on the south side of Temptation, older homes with wide porches and trees that had been growing since before either of us was born.
His directions came through the helmet speaker, his voice relaxed now that the puppy trauma had faded.
I pulled into his driveway and cut the engine. The sudden silence felt heavy after the constant rumble of the road.
Now the silence between us felt different. Fuller. Like neither of us wanted the night to end.
I swung off the bike first then offered my hand.
Calvin took it, his palm warm and slightly damp from the ride.
He didn’t let go right away after finding his feet.
His fingers lingered against mine while the engine ticked and cooled beside us.
The small bungalow looked quiet and was dark except for one light in what was probably the living room.
Leaning back against the seat of my bike, I stretched my legs out in front of me in a comfortable stance. The heat of the engine still radiated from the metal. Calvin stepped into the space naturally, like we’d done this a dozen times before.
“You had fun tonight.” I wasn’t asking. I’d watched him laugh at Spencer’s antics, watched him eat three empanadas, watched him slowly unwind from whatever had been tightening his shoulders when I’d first arrived at the laundromat.
He’d been among people who’d accepted him without question.
He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Your friends are…surprisingly normal.”
“For bikers?” Warm night air moved between us, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and something flowering in the neighbor’s yard.
“For anyone.” He leaned against my knee, the contact sending warmth through my leg. “I expected more leather and less…family.”
“Family’s exactly what they are.” I reached out, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. He didn’t flinch away. Instead, he leaned into the touch. “Though I can’t promise the rest of them won’t try to feed you or adopt you or interrogate you about your laundry skills.”
Calvin groaned. “Reaper asked me five questions about fabric softener. I thought he was joking. He wasn’t.”
“That’s Reaper for you. Deeply invested in static reduction.”
His laugh came easy, bright in the quiet darkness of the driveway.
The porch light threw a soft yellow glow across the driveway, catching the edges of Calvin’s face.
Standing between my legs like this, Calvin was nearly eye level with me.
Close enough to touch. Close enough that I could count the faint freckles scattered across his nose if I wanted to.
I wanted to.
Calvin’s breath caught, barely audible. His body swayed forward an inch before he caught himself. “You’re doing that thing again.”
“What thing?”
“Looking at me like I’m an empanada.”
A laugh rumbled up from my chest. “You’re better than empanadas.”
“High praise from a man who cooks.”
He set his hands on my shoulders, tentative at first then firmer when I didn’t pull away. The weight of his palms sent warmth spreading down my arms. “I could get used to it. The food. The company. The…” He trailed off, his gaze dropping to my mouth.
“The what?”
“The everything.” His voice had gone softer. “You’re making it very hard to be sensible about this.”
“Told you I’m the wrong person to steer you away from what you crave.”
My wolf stirred, content and possessive, wanting to close the remaining inches between us.
Reaching up, I cupped the side of his face with my palm. His skin was warm from the night air, and he leaned into the touch immediately, eyes fluttering half closed.
“Calvin.” His name came out rougher than I intended.
“Yeah?”
“C’mere.”
Calvin closed the distance. His breath ghosted across my lips, warm and faintly sweet from the soda we’d shared. Up close, I caught the clean scent of laundry detergent and something underneath it that was just him.
“You’re going to kiss me now,” he whispered, not a question.
“Yeah.”
“It’s about time.”
One corner of my mouth lifted. “Thought I was being patient.”
“You’ve been patient for days. It’s getting excessive.”
Laughter rumbled in my throat, and I slid my hand from his jaw to the nape of his neck, fingers threading through the short hair there. The touch made him shiver despite the warm night.
“Bossy,” I murmured.
“Impatient.”
I leaned down, giving him every chance to pull away.
He didn’t. Instead, he rose up on his toes, meeting me halfway.
I pulled him the last few inches and pressed my mouth to his.
The kiss started soft, just the brush of lips and the catch of breath.
His hand landed on my shoulder, gripping the leather of my cut like he needed something to hold on to.
My other hand found his hip, my thumb pressing against the jut of bone through his jeans.
His lips parted on a small sound, and I deepened the kiss, sliding my tongue against his in a slow sweep. His fingers tightened on my shoulder, and he swayed forward until his chest brushed mine.
The world narrowed to the press of his body, the warmth of his mouth, the small noises he made when I nipped at his bottom lip.
Breaking the kiss, I pulled back just enough to breathe. Calvin’s eyes stayed closed for a beat before fluttering open. His lips were red and slightly swollen, and he looked at me with an expression that made my wolf want to howl.
“That was…” His voice trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words. Those sensual hazel eyes held something like wonder mixed with hunger.
“I could kiss you all night, beautiful.” I smiled softly, biting his bottom lip. He looked thoroughly wrecked.
Dragging my thumb along the edge of his jaw, I watched the way his eyes went soft and dark. “We should do this again. Soon.”
“Dinner or kissing?”
“Both.”
Laughing, he dropped his forehead against my shoulder. The sound vibrated through me, warm and genuine. I slid one hand up his back, steadying him, feeling the ridge of his spine through his shirt. He fit against me like he’d been standing between my legs for years instead of minutes.
“I should go inside,” he mumbled against my shoulder.
“Probably.”
“In a minute.”
“Take your time.”
He lifted his head, and his eyes were bright, crinkled at the corners. “You’re not supposed to agree with me. You’re supposed to be disappointed.”
“I’m always disappointed when you leave.”
That earned me another laugh, shorter this time. I kissed him again, slower, savoring the feel of his lips. He melted into me, making a small sound that made my blood heat.
Then I felt something, and it had me pulling back.
A shift in the air. A presence approaching that made my wolf snap to attention. Two figures approached from down the street. One walked with a slight swagger, the other more controlled. I kept Calvin close, one hand still on his hip while I tracked the newcomers.
“Babe,” I said quietly, keeping my tone even, “you know them?”
Calvin glanced back. His shoulders went rigid under my hands. I could feel the tension radiating through his entire body, the easy warmth of moments ago completely evaporated.
“That’s my brother, Ramos,” he said quietly. “And his friend Miguel.”
I watched as they drew closer. The shorter one had the same facial features as Calvin, same coloring. The second was leaner, darker, with black hair and eyes that held nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was like staring into a well that had never seen water.
My wolf went still. Not calm. Coiled.
They stopped at the bottom of the walkway. Miguel glanced toward us. His gaze swept over Calvin then landed on me and held.
“Friend of yours?” Ramos asked, nodding toward me.
“Yeah.” Calvin didn’t elaborate.
Miguel smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Didn’t know you were into bikers, Cal.”
The way he said it made my grip tighten involuntarily on Calvin’s hip. He didn’t flinch, but I felt him tense.
“Didn’t know it was your business,” Calvin shot back.
Ramos laughed, the sound too loud in the quiet street. “Always got an attitude.”
Miguel’s gaze stayed fixed on me. “You from around here?”
I nodded. “Name’s Riot.” I made sure he knew who I was. It was all he was getting.
He nodded slowly, like he was filing the information away. “Nice bike.”
The silence stretched. Calvin’s breathing had gone shallow. I kept my arm around him, letting him feel the solid weight of me at his back.
Ramos climbed the porch steps. The black-haired one glanced toward us. His gaze swept over Calvin then landed on me again. Held. A smirk pulled at the corner of Miguel’s mouth, slow and knowing, before he turned and followed the brother inside. The door clicked shut behind them.
“I don’t want to leave you here.”
Calvin turned back to face me fully, his brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”
“Come back to the clubhouse.” The words came out before I’d finished thinking them. “Stay the night. I don’t—” I stopped myself. Telling him I didn’t trust that soulless bastard not to do something wouldn’t land right. Not yet. “I don’t want the night to end.”
Calvin’s expression softened for half a second. Then his whole body went rigid.
“Riot.” His voice had dropped to a whisper. “Why are your eyes glowing?”
Shit. My wolf, still coiled and watchful from sensing that threat, had pushed forward without me noticing.
Releasing Calvin, I moved aside and lowered to a crouch. Making myself smaller. Less threatening. The night air pressed against my skin while I forced my breathing to slow.
“Don’t be afraid.”
“Your eyes are glowing.” His voice shook, but he hadn’t run. “People’s eyes don’t glow, Riot. That’s not—that’s not a thing that happens.”
“I know.” Keeping my hands visible, resting on my knees, I held his gaze. “I need you to trust me, Calvin. Please.”
He stared at me. The porch light caught the tension in his jaw, the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Seconds stretched while my wolf paced and I stayed motionless, waiting.
“Trust you,” he repeated. “You’re crouching in my driveway with glowing eyes, and you want me to trust you.”
“Yes.”
“What are you?”
“Someone who would never hurt you.” I held his gaze, letting him see the truth in my expression. “I know that’s hard to believe right now. But I need you to trust me. Just for a minute.”
“You’re—” He stopped, swallowed hard. “People’s eyes don’t glow,” he repeated.
“No. They don’t.”
Somewhere inside the house, a television flickered on with muffled voices. Then silence.
“I’m a shifter,” I said quietly. “Wolf. Born this way. It’s not a curse or a disease. It’s just what I am. What my pack is.”
Calvin blinked. His mouth dropped open slightly. “You’re a dog?”
Despite everything, the corner of my mouth twitched. “Wolf. Not dog.”
“Same difference. Oh, hell. You’re an adult Noodles/Gunner!”
A laugh almost escaped me despite the tension. The absurdity of that response. Of all the things he could have said, it was so perfectly Calvin, and my wolf stopped snarling long enough to be charmed.
“That’s why you’re so...” He gestured vaguely at all of me.
“Tall?”
“Sure. Tall. And the food thing. And the—” He pressed both hands to his face while I tried to figure out what the hell empanadas and rice had to do with being a wolf. “Oh my god. The puppy. She’s not just a puppy.”
“She’s a puppy.”
“A wolf puppy?”
“A regular puppy that runs sideways.”
A sound escaped him that might’ve been a laugh or might’ve been hysteria. His hands dropped, and he looked at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. Confusion. Curiosity. The beginning of something else.
“You won’t hurt me.”
It wasn’t a question, but I answered it anyway. “Never.”
“How do I know that?”
“Because I’m telling you.” Staying in my crouch, fighting every instinct to stand and close the distance between us, I held his gaze. “I would die before I hurt you, Calvin. That’s not a line. That’s just fact.”
Inside the house, a door slammed hard enough to rattle the windows. Calvin flinched and looked toward the sound, his expression shuttered, something dark and tired moving behind his eyes.
When he turned back to me, his shoulders had squared. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay. I’ll go with you.” He took a step toward me. Then another. His hand reached out, hovering near my shoulder. “But if you try anything weird, I’m telling Spencer.”
“Brutal.”
“Exactly.” His fingers landed on my shoulder. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”