Page 87 of Justice for Puck Bunnies

“How many did she have?” I ask Vin.

“Only the one. You good, Iz?”

She shakes her head to clear her thoughts and fills her lungs as full as they go.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

She is not fine.

“How much longer do we need to stay?” she asks.

“We don’t. We’re leaving.”

“I’m not drunk, if that’s what you think. I’m just tired.”

“Did something happen?”

Vin eyes her and admits, “She got into a fight with Jolie.”

“Best friends don’t fight,” Izzy says, quick to jump to her own defense. “They disagree and then get over it with ice cream and rom-coms.”

“You were very upset.”

“Disagreements are frustrating, especially when said best friend spends all her time criticizing your choices and forcing you to help her make hers about her perfect life.”

“That . . . sounds loaded,” Mason says.

Her skin glows a subtle red. I touch the back of my hand against her neck.

“You’re burning up.”

She slaps my hand away. “Ugh, I can’t afford to get sick. I’ve already traded my shift today. They’re gonna fire me if I miss more time and I’ll actually deserve it.”

“They can’t fire you for being sick.”

“They can do whatever they want. I promise I’m fine. It’ll pass.”

She rests her head on Vin’s shoulder, but both he and Mason share my same concerned look.

“I want to head back anyway,” Mason says.

I nod a thanks to him and he returns it.

She snuggles against Vin.

“Fuck, your scent is divine. Did you know I can tell when you want me by how you smell?” she says too loudly.

She peppers kisses along his neck and jaw.

Ah, hell.

There are cobwebs in the area of my brain previously reserved for pack dynamics, but under the dust, a realization comes screaming into life.

The heightened emotions.

The escalation this morning.

How she’s desperate for Vin’s touch and smell.

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