Page 49 of Pucking Revenge

I press my lips together to suppress a smile as all three guys gawk at the big brute. This is the first time he’s claimed me in front of his friends, and that simple sentence alone makes me think I may need another round in the shower before dinner.

What the hell is happening to me?

“Aw, Saint. We’re just playing.” Daniel is propped up against the wall across from us, still inside his basket. He clutches the edges and squirms, trying to wiggle his way free, but his efforts are fruitless. All his movements do is cause the basket to roll one way, then the other. He throws an arm out for balance and shimmies again. When the basket tips, and he has to grab the wall to stay upright, he slumps back in it. “Can one of you help me?”

“No,” Brooks says. His mouth is downturned and his brows are low. What is going on with my best friend? He’s always the happy one, and we’re watching Daniel Hall trying to wiggle his way out of a wheeling laundry basket. This is comedy gold.

I slide my phone out of my back pocket so I can get a shot of the buffoon around Brooks’s massive shoulders. “Say cheese, Playboy!”

Hamming it up for the camera, he gives me his famous lopsided grin.

I’ve never been into younger men, but I guess I can see the appeal. His father, though? God, I can understand why Lake went after Daddy Hall. Ford is one hot dad.

War gets to his feet and offers Aiden a hand. “Let’s get Leprechaun’s laundry going. I’m starving. Dinner?”

I tuck my phone back into my pocket and step out from behind the protective wall of muscle still hovering in front of me. “Brooks is making dinner.”

War waggles his brows. “Oh, Saint is pulling out all the stops. I’m coming over.”

From his cart, Daniel is still huffing and puffing. “Is someone gonna help me out of here?”

Brooks clasps my hand and tugs. “No. Come on. We’re late.”

I dig in my heels and pull him back. It’s not easy. The man is double my size and acting like a stubborn bull all of a sudden. “We’re staying in. Who cares if we have dinner a little later?”

He clenches his jaw in response. God, angry Brooks is hot.

“You getting hangry?” I tease, pressing my hand to his cheek, hoping he’ll relax.

On contact, his lids fall shut, and he pulls in a breath so deep it feels like he’s sucked all the air from the room. His green eyes flutter open and lock on me for an instant, then he turns his attention to the men behind me. “Order a pizza. Sara can help you finish with your laundry if she wants, but then I’m making dinner at her place. No third wheels allowed.”

“Aw, you want me all to yourself.” I try for a light, teasing tone, but my heart is tripping over itself. Maybe he really did steal all the oxygen, because suddenly I’m lightheaded.

Brooks grasps my chin with his thumb and forefinger and watches me so intently it feels like an examination. His thumb brushes once, then twice, against my bottom lip before he murmurs, “Yeah, so what if I do?”

My swallow is heavy. I lick my lips, tracing the path where his thumb just ghosted.

Brooks shifts imperceptibly closer, leaving barely a breath between us, his pulse fluttering at the hollow of his throat.

“Yes!”

At Daniel’s cheer, I jolt and dart back. Brooks does the same.

Aiden is laughing as Daniel finally stumbles out of the basket. The basket itself clatters to the ground loudly.

But War? His focus is trained on Brooks and me. His lips are parted in surprise and his eyes are wide. He looks like his thoughts mirror mine. I’m pretty sure Brooks almost kissed me. And nothing about the tension between us during that moment felt even remotely fake.

EIGHTEEN

BROOKS

Me: Anyone want a roommate?

Beckett: Way too many people live in my house, so I love you, but duck no.

Gavin: I’m afraid to ask.

Aiden: Fuck you bro. I’m locking you out.

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