Page 27 of The Dead Don't Talk
Makes him blink at me.
Has the hazel of his eyes darkening in the rapidly fading light as his brows bunch together.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Shaking my head when the air shifts, the group of recruits getting restless in the truck bed, I grab his elbow again and pull him a few more steps away.
“I have to take some shit out to Wi—”
“Okay,” he rushes out, his face lighting up.
“—lson. You’re not even going to let me finish as—”
“Nope,” he interrupts again, a smile playing on those thick lips. “I miss him.”
There’s a ping of something that doesn’t make sense in my chest and I snap my mouth shut.
Without another word to him, I snag the duffels out of the truck and pass the keys to Cassia. She stares at them like I handed her more than just the keys to the only thing that’ll get them back home by dark but doesn’t say a word as she accepts and turns away from Amo and me.
He said yes to helping me carry this shit. That’s all that matters.
So why do I want to ask him how he can be so attached already?
Missing someone that sucked your dick once? It doesn’t compute to me.
It took at least twice for me to even wonder what Wilson was up to
I look out for him. There’s a difference.
We’re just … not like that. We shouldn’t be.
I toss Amo the second bag as the truck takes off, leaving us alone for the first time in a week.
His curls, tossed onto the other side of his head today and tinged a weird pink, blow in the wind and collect near his chin.
Eyes narrowed like he’d rather be throwing knives at my head, I see the thoughts all racing across his face, his brain muddling through all the possible responses before settling on something that makes his lips curl into a smirk.
My cock immediately thickens.
I may have fucked up.
“So, what are you, then?”
Busying my hands with tightening the straps around my shoulders, I shake my head and start in the direction of Wilson’s post. “What?”
“You said you weren’t gay, but I don’t know. Having your dick in my ass and my cum on your lips feels pretty gay.”
Definitely fucked up.
“Okay,” I snap and let loose a huff as I hook my thumbs into the straps of the bag and pull. “I’m sorry, alright? I shouldn’t have said you were bothering me, but you fucking are.”
“Ugh, why can’t you just benormal?”
“I am normal.”
The smack of his lips immediately follows the thud of the bag hitting the grass at my feet and my stomach knots.
“I’ll wait until you’re back to go see him. By myself.Bye.”
