Page 65 of Pit Stop

“Oh, and there’s this new item on the drink menu. The waiter told me about it. A mimosa with wolf blood in it. Said it was really good.”

“That sounds…nasty.”

“Oh, it’s not real wolf blood. Just blood orange, but it looks like blood. He said they grew them here, in the backyard.”

“Hm,” I say and then glance down at the items on the menu, trying not to roll my eyes at the names. They’re just as bad as I remember. Pack Scramble, Howl and Oates-meal, Alpha Apple Mooncakes, the Wolf in Meat’s Clothing. Good gods. How did they come up with this? Who has the time?

“What are you getting?” Mav asks, his fingers sliding against my thigh and making me lean toward him.

“I’m thinking the Moon Cakes.”

“Sounds good. I think I’m going to order the Doggone Omelet.”

“That was my second choice. Can I have a bite?”

“You can have whatever you’d like.”

Owen sighs, his head in his hand as he watches us. “I can’t wait to find someone who loves me like this.”

Our eyes flash to him, and I sputter. “It’s not—what? Love? What love?”

Maverick’s fingers tighten on my knee before moving off me completely.

“It’s not love,” Maverick explains as I continue to sputter and choke. “It’s just the bond. One which will be dissolved soon.”

“Yes,” I manage to hiss just as the waiter appears, and because I’m still choking and feeling slightly off-kilter, Maverick orders for me. He also orders me a mimosa.

Apparently, he thinks I need it.

His hand lands on my back, and he pats it softly as Owen continues to talk about his job at a small clothing store on the other side of town. He’s trying to become the manager, but one of his brothers fucked the current boss and ran, so there’s a grudge against Owen.

“You’re the only alpha I like,” Owen says. “I told Skye this.”

“You just have assholes for brothers,” Maverick says. He looks at me as the water is set in front of him and my mimosa isscooted over to me. It’s orange with red foam on the top. They really went for this whole wolf thing.

“I’m pretty sure most alphas are assholes,” I tell him, and then I amend, “Not you though. Not most of the time. And my brothers are all right.”

He huffs a laugh and then nudges my mimosa. “Take a drink.”

I look over at Owen, who has a red mustache on the top of his lip before his tongue swipes it away.

“Oh, this is delicious. I wonder what they used for this? Cherries? I don’t know.” He gulps it down and then burps loudly. “Oh gods.”

“Nice one,” a man says from the table beside us and holds out his fist.

Owen shyly bops it as his cheeks flame.

“Burps like a foghorn. That’s how we became friends,” Maverick says. “Burped his way into my life.”

“Shut up,” Owen says and then laughs. “What really happened was my brothers were plying me with drinks and forcing me to burp for their entertainment. They love to watch an omega dance like a circus pet. I almost threw up and kept telling them to leave me alone. Maverick came in and put an end to it. And ever since, I have been a thorn in his side.”

It’s my turn to touch him, my hand landing on his leg and squeezing.

He peers at me from the corner of his eye, and I offer him a small smile. That sounds like something he’d do. As much as I didn’t like Maverick for being far too sexy, he was never one to be a bully. And he never entertained them either.

Food is brought to our table, and I take bites from each plate, deciding that I like Maverick’s the best. He ends up switching our plates so that I can have the breakfast I like the most.

He really should stop being so romantic. The sex is good, hot even, but if he keeps doing shit like this it’s going to be hard for me to break the bond and leave for college.

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