Page 71 of The Hate We Breathe
“That’s what you get for being an ass.” A small woman with vibrant lavender-colored hair huffs as Abel stomps towards her. She narrows her eyes at him and lifts one of the throw pillows off the couch, holding it out threateningly.
“Don’t even think about it, Abel.”
“Don’t what, Riot Girl?” Abel taunts. “Don’t get my revenge.”
She steps back as he advances. “Abel…” Her voice is a warning, one he’s obviously used to hearing because he ignores it with such ease. In the next moment, he’s got the pillow plucked from her grip and her body swung up in his arms as he squishes her against his chest with her feet dangling off the floor.
“Ugh!” The woman struggles against him. “Put me down!”
“Pay the toll,” he says. “And apologize for hurting my feelings.”
She snorts and rolls her eyes before she catches sight of us. Absently, I reach out and swing the front door shut behind Nolan and me. “Sorry about him,” she says, her hands betraying her words and supposed irritation with the man currently holding her as she wraps them around the back of his neck. “He’s cranky when he doesn’t get enough sleep.”
“Toll, woman!” Abel shakes her back and forth, her legs swinging from side to side. With another eye roll, she pecks him on the lips and then when she tries to get down, he huffs. “That’s not a kiss, Riot Girl. I taught you better than that.”
“Not in front of the kids, Abel!” she snaps. “Now. Put. Me. Down.”
Grumbling, Abel deposits her back on the floor. “Fine, but I plan to take out the rest on your ass later,” he tells her. “Including interest!”
Waving him away, the woman approaches us and I realize she’s not just short—she’s petite and fine-boned as well. “Again, I’m sorry you have to deal with him,” she tells us, stopping a few feet away and holding out her hand. “I’m Rylie. It’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you too,” Nolan says, reaching out and taking her hand, only for Abel to appear next to him in the next instant and smack him away.
“No touchy,” Abel barks.
Rylie ignores him and turns to me. I take her hand, but this time, Abel doesn’t do anything. “He’s a big man-child,” she says, though there’s a soft curve to her lips as she says it.
“Uh—yeah, I can see that,” I say, chuckling as Nolan rubs his arm and glares at Abel. “Usually, he’s a lot more professional. How do you know him?”
Rylie sighs. “He’s my?—”
“Soulmate,” Abel says at the same time she finishes, “Husband.”
She rolls her eyes as Abel deftly moves up next to us and turns, edging Nolan farther away. Despite the circumstances and the fact that I still don’t know what the fuck we’re doing here, I can’t help but bite my lip to repress a laugh.
“About time you showed up.” All at once, we turn our heads in the direction of that deep voice. Viks steps into the open doorway leading to the rest of the house, his massive body taking up damn near the entire opening as he crosses his arms over his chest and eyes us.
Any amusement that had been building slowly disperses at the sight of him. I drop Rylie’s hand and move towards him. “I wasn’t able to say it last time, but thanks for stepping in at The Dionysus Lounge,” I tell him.
Vik’s cool gray eyes slide like razors over me, and he nods. “Not a problem,” he says. “But maybe next time, no drinking with the enemy.”
“Yeah,” I agree. Though in my defense, I didn’t think I’d had a choice. None of them had been there, and I’d certainly not expected to get drunk so fast.
“Come on.” Viks jerks his chin towards the living room. “We’ve got a lot to cover before tonight.”
“Tonight?” I frown and glance in Nolan’s direction. In response, he merely moves up to my side and palms the back of my neck, fingers sliding beneath the strands of my hair so that they can curve over my nape. I narrow my gaze on him when he doesn’t speak, but merely holds on to me as Rylie takes Abel’s hand and moves into the living room with Viks following behind them.
“What’s going on?” I ask as Nolan directs me after the group.
Without missing a beat, he turns towards me and swoops down, planting a heated kiss on my lips. It’s hard and raw and startling in how quickly it scrambles my brain. When it’s over, I’m left feeling like I’m standing on a cliff’s edge and confused how I got there.
“Let’s go, Princess,” Nolan murmurs, his hand falling to my waist as he pulls me into the living room. We find a place on one of the overstuffed luxurious chairs and he pulls me down into his lap.
I blink at Rylie’s knowing smirk as she sits in much the same position, half on the couch and half tucked into Abel’s side. Shock and awe have loosened my muscles as I let Nolan arrange me in a way that’s most comfortable for him. I don’t even bother to try and pull myself away or find my own seat. I’m too busy with the one question blaring through my head.
What the fuck just happened?
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