Page 10 of Fluke
“Yeah. That’s what we are now, right? I mean, Moss has a girlfriend. Maddox got married last week,” he says, rolling his eyes. “So it’s just you and me now. Well, there’s Foxx, but he’s not the wolf-pack type. He’s more … lone, possibly rabid wolf.”
I stare at him.What would it be like to be in his head? Is it lonely in there? Can he hear gears grinding when he thinks too hard?
I stretch out in my recliner, my feet dangling off the edge.
My body aches from a long day of tearing down drywall. My head hurts from an afternoon spent with Banks. Worst of all, my stomach is all tied up after seeing Pippa Plum.
That woman has been my crush since I was fourteen years old. One day, she was Greg’s little sister. The next, she walked into the gym early on a Saturday morning, and everything was different. Her legs were longer in her black workout pants. A yellow top hugged curves that I’d never noticed before. The hidden layer of mischief in her grin didn’t feel childish anymore. It was curious. Secretive.Hot.
And she’s only gotten hotter.
“Back to our wolf pack,” Banks says. “I—”
“Weare nota wolf pack.”
“Then our brotherhood.”
I eye him, and I almost—almost—feel bad for the guy. Instead, I reach toward him. “Hey, come here.”
“Why?”
“I think you have a piece of glitter stuck in your hair.”
He ducks my half attempt at smacking the side of his head and glares at me.
“What?” I ask, snickering. “Too soon?”
“It willalwaysbe too soon.”
“You can dish shit out but not take it?”
He lifts a brow. “Jess. You rigged my house with six buckets of glitter.”
“Youput your face on one thousand fucking stickers and stuck them on every surface in my house that doesn’t move.”
He smirks. “Nah, some things moved.”
I punch him in the arm, earning a yelp from the little asshole.
Banks has an overwhelming case of youngest child syndrome—even though he’snotthe youngest child in our family. When our parents brought our only sister home, Banks dug in his heels and refused to give up his spot as the family's baby. As a result, he’s spoiled, craves attention, and is willing to take unnecessary risks with his life and liberty.
He also hates being alone.
This hasn’t bothered me because he’s always had Maddox. But now that Maddox is married, he’s on his own—whether he likes it or not.
“Can we focus here?” he asks, gripping his punched arm with his other hand.
“On what?”
“On our living arrangements.”
I take a long, cold swig of my drink. “Did you come here just to convince me to let you move in?”
“I don’t want tomove in, move in.”
“Good. Because you’re not.”
He sighs. “I just need a place to hang out.”
