Page 25 of Caught from Behind

I pick up my beer—my one beer I’ll allow myself because I have to drive home, because I won’t allow myself to get to the point that I can’t control my actions, my thoughts, my words, my body—and salute him with it.

Ella chokes again.

“Don’t worry,” Knox says. “Riggs talks a big talk, but he likes to play monk on the road.”

My eyes go to Ella’s.

Her expression is…

Well, it has me lifting the bottle further, tipping the dredges of my beer into my mouth.

One beer.

Because I need to always be ready and on alert and?—

Ready to leave in an instant.

Fuck.

The puck was a mistake.

This was a mistake.

Coming here tonight, searching for something, wanting…more.

I can’t have what Nova and Lake do. Not what Jolie or Leo do either. I’m just…

Not good enough.

Gritting my teeth, I push up from my seat, head to the back door, staring out into the darkness, not able to see the snow I know is softly falling on the other side of the plate glass, not with the bright lights on inside and only the moon illuminating the expanse of Lake’s back yard outside. Needing some fresh air, I reach for the handle, but just before I step onto the deck, bracing for the frigid planks to seep right in through my socks, I feel tiny claws pressing into my leg.

Steve, Nova’s pug, snorts disapprovingly at me.

“You don’t want to go out there,” I tell him.

He grunts, spraying my jeans with snot. “Disgusting mutt,” I grumble, but I scoop him up anyway, tucking him under my arm before I push outside.

His nose works in overtime (something I know because he snorts and snots and sniffs all over my bare skin beneath the sleeve of my tee), but I’m barely paying attention to it. Instead, I’m focused on the cold air sinking into my flesh, my T-shirt the barest bit of insulation. It bites into the soles of my feet, pricks at me through my jeans. In fact, the only part of me that’s warm is my side, and that’s only because Steve is pushed against it, his tiny body already shivering.

“Told you,” I say on a sigh, turning and cracking the door, setting him down in the opening, and even though he likes to play the dum-dum, he proves that he’s smart right then.

And that’s because he zips off into the warmth, tearing across the hardwood floor and leaping—quite nimbly for the uncoordinated guy he is—into Nova’s lap.

He starts licking her chin and she doesn’t miss a beat in her conversation with Jolie, just cuddles her pup close and keeps chatting.

Smiling despite myself, I start to pull the door closed, but it doesn’t shut.

Frowning, I glance up and see Ella standing in the opening, gripping the edge of the glass and wooden panel. Our eyes connect…hold.

Her throat works. Her teeth bite into her bottom lip.

Then she asks quietly, “Can I come out too?”

“No,” I rasp.

Her face falls.

I straighten and step close, nudging the door further inward so that I can slip back inside. “It’s cold,” I say softly, “and you’re not dressed for it.”

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