Page 54 of Strelitzias in Spring

“Of course. But I’ll drive. Celeste has road rage.”

Celeste casts Ava a death glare before picking up a menu. “What are you both getting?” We fall into a deliberation of eggs versus pancakes versus French toast, though our orders are always the same: French toast for me and CeCe and eggs for Ava. The waitress appears soon after we close our menus and leaves with the promise to return with coffee. Not even a minute later, she returns with three mugs and creamer.

I busy myself making my coffee and take a long sip, savoring the flavors. Even though it’s technically lunchtime, there’s something about a Jersey diner that makes you want breakfast at all hours of the day.

“So, how’s the tattoo coming along?” CeCe asks, pushing her mug to the side.

“Uh, well…” I clear my throat, images of Wolf at my apartment filter through my mind: him watching me, pleasuring me on his knees, feeling him under me. I feel my cheeks burn, and I duck my head, picking up my mug to buy myself a few moments to weigh my response. Taking a sip, I settle my thoughts and look back up at CeCe and Ava’s waiting faces. “I have to wait until my back is a little more healed. I think Wolf mentioned that the first session will be at the end of this month.”

They accept my answer, though I can feel CeCe’s green gaze, so much like her cousin’s, on me. It’s unnerving and slightly annoying, and as soon as my French toast arrives, I dive in, keeping my mouth too full to speak.

—

“Do you want us to come by on Thursday to help you get ready?”

I roll my eyes at Ava’s question and walk ahead of her, racing down the steps and toward the path that will lead me to my afternoon class. “I think I can put on a pair of jeans by myself, but thank you.”

“Hey.” She stops her walk, grabbing my arm to still me. “You don’t seem excited about this. You know you don’t have to go, right? If you decide to cancel on him, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I know, Aves. And it’s not that I’m not excited, I promise. I just don’t want to get my hopes up with, well, everything. Romantically, I don’t think I’m interested in Jack, but this is my first real date. Everything with my parents and the house has just been a lot, so my emotions are all over the place, and I’m trying to make sense of it all.”

Her face softens. “I’m sorry; it’s easy to forget about douchebag Dylan and dickwad Devin. Even Marina fades into the background sometimes. But what you want, who you are, is important, too, okay? I know you’re close with your mom, and you have the sorority now, but don’t forget that we’re here for you, too, okay?”

“Thanks, Aves,” I choke out, emotion clogging my throat.

“And don’t tell C that you have a crush on her cousin,” she whispers.

“W-what? What are you talking about?” I cut my gaze to Celeste, who’s walking behind us, engrossed in her phone.

“Oh my God, you should see your face. I’m kidding. Wolf is an asshole, always grumbling or complaining about something.”

“It’s not like Grey is sunshine and rainbows.”

Ava sighs, a wistful look crossing her face. “No, he’s a bag of dicks, but Jesus, he knows how to use them.”

“And that’s my cue to go.” I pull Ava and CeCe in for separate hugs, giving them my car key before I head to class, just in case I need either one of them to rescue me.

However, if I needed help, neither one of them would show up without their boyfriends, and the idea of seeing Greyson or Dante in my dilapidated car is humorous. The key is effectively useless but symbolic of the trust I have in both of them to be there for me when I need it.

25

Wolf

“Yer gettin’ soft in yer old age, McCleery,” Jedd taunts as I land another combination against the sparring gloves. We’ve been at this for an hour: quick combinations and footwork to prepare me for the last fight of my career. While I may be done with the MMA circuit, there’s no fucking way I’m leaving the cage without a win.

“Fuck off, old man,” I grunt out around my mouthguard, moving through the uppercut hook movement with a little more force than necessary.

“Feckin’ shite, save it fer the cage, ye animal.”

I smirk but continue to do the work my trainer demands of me.

“Alright, drop yer hands. Yer going to do cool down stretches before I kick your sorry arse out of my gym.”

I spit the mouthguard into my hand, working my jaw to loosen the muscles in my face. “You’ll be sobbing on the twenty-fourth like a little baby.”

“I’ll miss havin’ ye around, McCleery, make no mistake. But yer priorities are changin’.”

Nodding, I focus on unwrapping the protective tape from around my knuckles. “I’ll stop by, and you know you’re always welcome at the shop. We need to get those dumbass Irish tats replaced by something more masculine, like the saltire or the Royal Banner of Scotland.” I motion toward his Ireland-themed tattoos.

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