Page 176 of Wild Like Us
“It wasn’t like that,” Donnelly defends.
Banks slides me a furtive look. Yeah, I know that look—the one that says,who are we to judge?We’ve been dating Sulli. And her dad finding out she’s been withtwobodyguards, not just one, could be catastrophic.
But I’d rather take on Ryke Meadows than Loren Hale as the father of the girl I’m dating. Any day of the week.
I unmute Loren and put my phone to my ear. “It happened this summer, and he tattooed Luna at your house. She requested the tattoo.”
Loren is quiet on the line.
SFO are holding their breaths.
I wait.
“My kids areyoung,” Loren says sharply. “Luna looksyoungerthan her age, and she’s ayoung, impressionablenineteen.” He’s emphasizing these words very strongly here. “My son is ayoung, impressionablesixteen. My daughter didn’t have a single tattoo until Donnelly. And now my son’s favorite hoagie place has changed.”
I don’t think Xander ever had a favorite hoagie place.
Loren keeps going, “Tell him to back off. He’s not their best friend. He’s theirtwenty-eight-year-oldbodyguard. And he’s going to be roadkill if heeversees my daughter unclothed again. I don’t give a shit if it’s just for a tattoo. I’m not an idiot—I knowhow that spirals into other things.”
“It hasn’t, it won’t,” I assure Lo. “Donnelly is professional.” With a few more reassurances, I hang up, and I tell Donnelly, “You’re on Loren Hale’s permanent shit list. You’re not getting off.”
He nods a few times. “You transferring me?”
“No. Xander wants you on his detail, and Loren doesn’t want you to leave. But you need to tone down the buddy-guard routine. Just do your job. Don’t take him to Wawa anymore.”
“He wants to go, though.”
I sigh. “Just try not to influence him.” It might be hard because Donnelly doesn’t seem to be doing anything. He’s justcoolin the eyes of Xander Hale.
I pick up my beer mug. “Before the meeting ends,” I tell them, “I want to saycheersto your Omega lead.” I gesture to Thatcher who starts to smile.
Banks, Quinn, Donnelly, and Oscar pick up their drinks.
“Congrats to Thatcher, for being the second bodyguard to do the impossible and be with American royalty. Can’t wait to be there and see you cry as Jane walks down the aisle.”
Everyone laughs.
“Thanks,” Thatcher smiles more, swigging his drink with the rest of us. But as the liquid slides down the back of my throat, I realize a third bodyguard is going to do the impossible and be with another American princess.
I’m just not sure who it’ll be anymore. Me or Banks. Any way I turn it, it feels like a total tossup.
42
SULLIVAN MEADOWS
October 30th.Hallow Friends Eve. The day I fuckingfinallyfree-solo.
Yesterday, the weather cleared for my final practice run, and I breezed through the route. Every handhold, every path to the top is engrained in my mind. So much so that I could climb Rattlesnake Knuckle blindfolded.
There is only one thing left standing in my way today.
The asshole climbers.
I thought we shook off Team Apex, but they’re back. And they’re placing foldout lawn chairs about a tennis court away from the base of the crag. Close enough that I’ll be able to hear their jeers and heckling while I climb.
I dip my hands in my chalk bag. Standing at the base of the crag, I try toignoreTeam Apex and mentally focus.
This isit.
