Page 71 of Just a Friend for the Lion
Real slow. Real deliberate. Just like the fucking Bear he is.
Like he’s calculating the odds of ripping out my throat and getting away with it before someone calls the cops.
“Look,” I start, because I came here to grovel, not fight. “I know MJ’s mad. I know I messed up. But I need to talk to her.”
Doug raises a brow. “You mean before or after you went back to your Pride to—what was it—service some needy Lionessesin heat?”
I grit my teeth. “That’s not what happened.”
“That’s what she thinks,” Horace growls. “And that’s what matters.”
“I told my mother to stop putting my name in that damn lottery! I was only home to get some of my stuff before she threw it away. I didn’t touch anyone! I wouldn’t do that! Hell, I haven’t even looked at anyone else since I met MJ.”
Doug steps forward.
“Then maybe you should’ve told MJ that.”
“You think I don’t know that?” I snap. “I came here to tell her, but?—"
“What? You expected her to be waiting? Afteryou mated her and vanished?” Horace’s voice is pure fury.
“I didn’t vanish. The Pride is a lot, and I?—”
“You what, Carter?” Doug cuts in. “You gonna say the wordLionlike it explains everything? You think you’re the only one with instincts?”
I step forward, growling low in my chest.
“I’m trying, dammit. I’m here. Isn’t that enough?”
Horace just walks up and bonks me on the nose.
With his knuckle.
Hard.
The fuck?
“Ow, you dick?—”
“That’s for biting my sister,” he says, cool as ice. “Without asking.”
I’m about to growl something deeply unhelpful and possibly felonious when—SPLAT.
Warm. Wet. And very saucy.
I blink.
There’s tomato sauce dripping down my face. I wipe my eyes. Doug is sputtering.
Horace just stands there blinking like he’s been baptized in crushed tomatoes.
“What the—” Doug shouts.
We all spin around.
And there he is.
In the back doorway.
