Page 27 of Sweet Heat

“She’s seven years younger than me.”

“And probably more mature.” He grins like a Cheshire cat, knowing he’s caught me.

“She won’t return any of my calls or texts.”

“Sounds like it’s a good thing she’s stuck with you this weekend. All alone. No buffers whatsoever,” he reminds me, grin growing wider. He lifts his hand and gives a wave, so I twist to check. Sure enough, Crimson and Owen are heading our way.

“I’ll stop talking about it,” he says through gritted teeth. “But just know, I think you should go for it. I’ve got your back.”

He cuts off in the nick of time. The guys grab their own drinks and then join us: Owen with another beer and Crimson with some bright pink cocktail in a martini glass.

“What the heck is that? It’s making my eyes hurt,” Damien grumbles while Crimson uses a toothpick with pineapple on it to stir the drink.

“A passion fruit martini. Want a sip?” he asks, taking one himself. He pulls a face and coughs a few times, making everyone laugh when he sets it aside to grab Owen’s beer.

The big Alpha glowers at him before signaling to ask for another.

“Why did you even get that?” he grumbles, trying to swipe his drink back, but Crimson quickly drains it just to piss him off. “God, you’re a pest.”

“But you loveeeeeee me,” Crimson sings, causing Owen to roll his eyes toward the heavens.

“See, Miller. This is all your fault. If you had joined the pack, between the two of us, we could have gotten him under control.” He glares at me, once again bringing up the sore point. When we were younger, it was always a foregone conclusion that we would pack together.

But then I scent-matched with his sister.Even if neither of them knows it.

“That’s what Damien and Niko are for, brother,” I remind him as the server drops off another round for us all.

“Fine,” he scoffs, groaning in delight at the taste. “By the way, thanks again for staying with Posie. My parents are worried about her. Said she had a bad date or something and has been holed up in her room ever since. She’s not hurt or anything. Just grumpy—so it might be a pretty quiet weekend.”

His admission makes me see red.

A date? A bad date?

I’m not sure what makes me angrier, but no matter what, if some dickhead made my girl sad, he’s gonna be a dead dickhead real soon.

Tomorrow’s flight home can’t get here fast enough.

It’s time to claim my Puff. Forever.

Chapter Fifteen

“Ughhhhh,” I grunt as my back cramps. Sitting straighter in my chair, I rub at it and stretch my neck, hoping for the right pop to release the pressure. The clock reads eleven-fifteen, and I blink a few times, wondering where the entire morning went. My parents woke me up at the crack of dawn. After they left, I couldn’t fall back asleep; plus, the studio was calling my name. It’s not actually a separate studio, just a small room near mine that my parents let me claim for my fledgling business, but I’ve made it super cozy. I hope to create a similar space when I get my own apartment and one day, deck it out with top-of-the-line tools.

The matching earrings and necklace set I’ve been working on shine under the magnifier, glinting in the soft glow. It’s my firstcustom order using gemstones, and I couldn’t be more excited. Not to mention, jumping into working with the stunning pieces was what I needed after the disastrous double date with Alex.

What a super douche.

Grunting, I stand and stretch a bit more, but my eyes keep straying back to the piece, ready to get sucked back into my art. A small twinge behind the bridge of my nose lets me know I need a little break so I don’t end up with a headache—but damn, I want to keep going. Nothing nurtures the creativity deep inside like making my visions come to life with shimmering jewels.

Hydrate. You need to hydrate. Then you can get back at it.

With a sigh, I reach for my water bottle, give the straw a suck, and come up empty. Damnit. Whirling around, I stalk out of my tiny room and head for the kitchen. The smooth wood at the top of the stairs is cool on my feet. I’m just about to head down when the sound of the doorbell peels in the hallway. The security camera app on my phone also pings, and I pull it out of my pocket to see who’s here.

Owen should show up later today since he’s flying in this afternoon. Unless he caught an earlier flight, he should be in the air right about now. The picture flares, then settles, and I get a look at the doorstep and spy Emma’s smiling face. Mari’s right behind her, holding what appears to be a giant bakery box.

My stomach rumbles, reminding me I haven’t eaten today, and I bustle down the stairs to welcome them.

Cool air surges forward as I open the door and let them in.

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