Page 62 of Mark & Don't Tell

“How did you do all of this?” I finally manage to ask.

He shrugs. “I know a guy.”

How much is this date costing you is my next question, but I force that one down. Kai has his own money. He can do what he wants with it. And me? I’ll try not to keep a running tab of expenses in my head and embrace the romantic gesture.

“Do you like it?”

“Do I like it?” I parrot, glancing at him like he’s grown a second head. “Kai, this is amazing.”

A relieved breath rushes out of him. “Let me feed you.” He holds my hand and draws me toward the table, nodding his head at someone over my shoulder.

The helicopter’s blades start to turn faster.

“Where is he going?”

“We’ll drive back.” Kai gestures to a pretty baby blue SUV parked down the way.

“What about your car?”

“Lincoln and Vic already picked it up.” Kai leads me farther away from the helicopter as it prepares to take off.

Thankfully, it’s far enough away from our dinner that nothing tips over or blows away. I clutch Kai’s hand, half-worried the night will turn into one of those horror films, where the rotor blade accidentally chops my head off.

“I got you,” Kai says, pulling me into his arms, wrapping them around me as a protective shield. “You don’t have to be afraid. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

My heart trembles in my chest. It’s way too early to let myself fall, but as he holds me, I can’t help picturing myself spending the rest of my life with Kai and his pack.

Kai’s jacket found its way home with me by accident. It accidentally got tucked under my pillows, where I accidentally clung to it all night long, letting his crisp citrus scent bring me dreams of the pack life I’ve always dreamed of.

I woke with a smile that slowly fades as I park outside of my dads’ house. It’s hard not to think about Vic or the pack and how, eventually, if things work out, we’ll have to break the news to Letti and my dads. I’m not going to spend years being a dirty little secret. Not after seeing what it did to Quinn.

Besides, Letti is great. I don’t think she’ll be pissed. At least, not at me. Maybe at Vic. And then there’s the fact that the guys are almost as old as my own dads. I’m trying not to think too hard about that part.

Plenty of people are attracted to people older than them.

Letti pokes her head out of the garage door. Waving, I climb out of the car and head in her direction.

“Mija! ¿Cómo estás? What are you doing here?” she asks.

No sense in lying. She knows all about my mom and Marco. “I came to see if you guys would help me buy Marco some cleats.”

A deep line burrows in her forehead. “Your mother?”

I shake my head.

Letti looks on the verge of saying something—probably cursing my mom—but she’d never do something like that in front of me. Features softening, she pulls me inside. “Come. Let’s find your fathers. They’d do anything for Marco.”

“What about Marco?” Brock asks, closing the fridge. “Hey, sugarplum.” He wraps me in a big bear hug, and I laugh, hugging him back quickly before extracting myself from his death grip. His hair is blond and curly like mine, only he keeps it cut short enough that you can’t tell.

“Marco needs some cleats, and I was wondering if you could help me buy them?”

Nico wanders into the kitchen, resting his arms on the breakfast bar. “Is he still playing football?”

My chest tightens. “He didn’t join because he didn’t have cleats.” Shout-out to my voice for not shaking when I feel like screaming and crying on the inside.

“How many pairs does he need?” Henry calls from the other room.

“One.”

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