Chapter 29 #3
Her eyes land on Kade, who is looming behind me, his expression carefully neutral.
And even before Em opens her mouth, I can practically see the gears of chaos turning in her head.
“Well? Are you going to finally introduce me to the sexy lumberjack in question, or what? Our first meeting kind of sucked, so . . .”
A mortified flush creeps up my neck. Why does everyone feel the need to come up with these ridiculous nicknames?
“Right. Em, this is Kade. Kade, my sister, Emily.”
Kade gives a single nod, but his eyes are soft. “Emily. Welcome to my home.”
Em beams. “Home . . . murder warehouse . . . I’ll be the judge of that. Anyway, I’m starving. It took like four different buses to get to this godforsaken part of town. Can we eat?”
A few minutes later, we’re sitting at my research table—which is now apparently also our dining table—with plates of Mom’s incredible lasagna.
Em is in her element, firing off a series of questions at Kade, her eyes sparkling with her clear desire to rattle him.
Kade, for his part, is unbothered, answering in his usual short and to-the-point way.
“So, top-secret artifacts, huh?” Em says, citing the story I’d already told her earlier in the week. “Must be exciting. So exciting you had to, what, kidnap my sister?”
I choke on my water, sputtering. Across the table, Kade stiffens. The truth of Em’s joke hangs between us, horribly, hilariously accurate.
Em watches our mutual meltdown with glee, completely oblivious. “Oh my god, your faces,” she says, laughing harder.
“Just . . . went down the wrong pipe,” I manage to gasp, my face burning. Kade, meanwhile, has settled back into his chair looking entertained. Damn him.
I’m regaining my ability to breathe, thinking the worst is surely over now, when Em stops laughing and turns back to me.
“Alanna,” she says, her tone dripping with mock seriousness.
“Why did it take you moving in with your boyfriend for you to introduce him to me?” She puts the flat of her hand on her face, hiding her mouth from me and pretending to whisper conspiratorially to Kade.
“You know, when you took her on the third date, she wouldn’t even tell me your name. Crazy, right?”
The relaxed amusement on Kade’s face vanishes. He stills, his fork clinking against his plate. The shift is so sudden it’s startling. His gaze, now intensely guarded, snaps from Em to me. Oh no.
“What third date?” His voice is a low, dangerous rumble that I can feel in my marrow.
Both Kade and Em are now staring at me. Em’s expression is one of simple curiosity, but Kade’s . . . Kade’s is dark and intense, a storm gathering in his eyes. He looks like a wolf that has just caught the scent of a rival on his territory. I am so, so busted.
My face flames with a blush so hot I’m sure it’s visible from space. I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. I try again, my voice a humiliated squeak. “Um. Well . . .”
If I ran out the door right now, would they forget about this by the time I got back?
God, they’re still staring at me.
“There was no ‘Third Date Guy,’” I blurt. “I made him up.”
Silence. Then, from Em, a disbelieving, “You what?”
“I had to get out of the apartment,” I mumble, covering my face with my hands. “To get my tattoo looked at. But I didn’t want you to know I got a tattoo. And I knew you’d want to come if you knew . . .” The last words come out in a rush, “So-I-invented-an-imaginary-boyfriend-so-I-could-sneak-out.”
For a solid ten seconds that extend forever, Em stares at me. Then she lets out a snort. The snort turns into a giggle, and the giggle explodes into a full-blown, wheezing laugh. She throws her head back, howling with mirth.
“Wait, wait, wait,” she gasps, wiping a tear from her eye. “You lied to me and invented a whole boyfriend just to go to a, like, medical appointment?! That is the most boringly responsible rebellion I have ever heard of. I am so disappointed in you.”
Her laughter is infectious, and a shaky giggle escapes my own lips, the mortification finally giving way to the sheer absurdity of it all.
My giggles subside when I finally dare to look at Kade.
The animalistic territoriality has completely vanished from his face.
In its place is a deep relief that softens every sharp angle of his features.
He shakes his head with a rough chuckle, flashing a wolfish grin. Before I can react, his hand hooks around my waist, hauling me out of my chair and onto his lap.
“So, there was never any competition,” he murmurs against my ear. “Good.”
I lean into him, burying my face in the warm crook of his neck, and he tightens his arm around me.
A loud, pointed cough cuts through the air. “Um, hello? Still here. Can you two maybe not start making out right in front of me? I’m very young and impressionable.”
My eyes fly open and I immediately try to scramble off Kade’s lap. “Oh my god, Em, sorry, we weren’t—”
But Kade’s arm is an iron band around my waist, refusing to let me go. I’m pinned securely against his hard chest. When I twist to see his face, he’s not embarrassed in the slightest. There’s only unadulterated victory there. He’s inordinately pleased.
Em rolls her eyes, but a genuine smile tugs at her lips. She’s happy for me. “Fine, whatever. Be all disgusting and in love. I’ll just be over here having a moment alone with my one true love—this lasagna.”
She turns back to her plate with an air of finality, and I give up trying to escape Kade’s hold, relaxing against him. His arm remains a warm, solid weight around me, a non-negotiable claim that I find I don’t mind at all.
The rest of the evening passes in a comfortable, if slightly surreal, haze.
Em, true to her word, finishes her lasagna and then launches into a fresh, less intense barrage of questions.
She grills Kade about his favorite movies (he thinks he “saw something called ‘Die Hard’ once”), his taste in music (immediately deemed “boring old people stuff”), and whether he thinks her plan to dye her hair neon green is a good idea (a definitive “No” that makes me stifle a laugh).
Through it all, Kade is smugly content with me on his lap, and seems to enjoy my sister’s interrogation.
I look between them—the weathered, powerful Lycan and the teenage girl fearlessly roasting him—and my heart swells. It’s chaotic and strange, and absolutely perfect. This is my life now, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.