Page 127 of Justice for Puck Bunnies

The reply flashes through seconds later. It’s yet another post, this one just uploaded, of Vin outside Jolie’s apartment. He’s alone, but also it very clearly shows his location.

It’s more difficult than I was expecting to extract myself from the couch without rousing my bestie.

It takes longer than I thought it would for me to stress over what to wear and how to fix my hair. I’ve cried my makeup off already.

Another message chimes through, but this time it’s my case supervisor confirming my check-in and asking if I’m okay.

She’s a perfectly nice, well-meaning person. Her name is... Marsha? No, Marta. It’s definitely Marta. Given what I’m about to walk into, I message her that I’m feeling pretty down but to please let me handle it on my own.

My therapist says I need to learn coping mechanisms.

That convinces her. She replies that she expects a check-in in 30 minutes instead of an hour, but she’ll allow it.

I hate this shit.

Some random person shouldn’t have control over what I’m allowed to feel and when, and suddenly I appreciate all the more why my parents have reacted the way they have throughout my life.

Won’t ever tell them that.

My skin is clammy and I’m wearing Jolie’s spare pajamas, but it’s the best I can do with 30 seconds of notice.

The energy in my system from the shock of the message dies on the two flights of stairs down to the parking lot. I repeat reminders to myself, again and again like a mantra, to keep it together and not let him convince me to participate in their plans.

My heart can’t take it.

When I exit the glass double doors, Vin’s there waiting for me.

Mason’s standing beside him.

Fuck.

I can’t handle—

Large arms sweep me up and spin me around.

Trick’s wide palm cups my jaw.

His eyes skim over me, the agony there plain.

His mouth falls on mine and the kiss is insistent and mournful.

Surprise makes me freeze and he pauses, but if I’m already kissing the man, I may as well indulge.

I part my lips and press back, inviting him in and giving permission.

The kiss is soulful and so full of longing.

It’s like he’s been waiting eons and is finally able to do what he wants.

Trick kisses me like a prayer for absolution.

His scent flares, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. My skin tingles and my slick becomes uncomfortable.

“Fuck, Izzy,” he groans against my lips.

Vin and Mason crowd me in, but it only makes me tingle more.

“Calm down, omega,” Mason says.

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