Page 68 of She Wolf

“No, I’ve had a smoothie.”

I hear the tell-tale signs of the fridge and cupboards opening, the lid of the protein powder popping, and then eventually the whizzing of the blender. This is where it gets tricky though, because I’m banking on Knox using a glass and not the glass beaker he blended it in.

“You know what uncle Knox, can I have just a little sip? Maybe just a bit in a glass.”

Yes, Jack! Knox must have been going for the beaker option.

“Sure, but just a tiny bit.”

“Thank you.”

The cupboard I’m in fills with light and I shout out. Knox jumps about a foot in the air, a very high pitch shriek falling from his mouth followed by a bunch of curse words as Jack doubles over laughing.

“Did you get it?” I ask as I extricate myself from my hiding spot in a fit of giggles.

“Yeah,” Jack says in between breaths.

“Oh, you traitor,” Knox says as he moves for Jack who squeals and launches the phone at me as he runs off. Knox takes off after him laughing.

I snicker while I put the shelf back in the cupboard I was hiding in and return its contents. Then I watch the video a few times enjoying the way my big bad hockey playing brother jumps and squeals way more than I expected him to. It’s pure gold on camera. Then I bribe Casey into loading it up onto his Instagram page, which has, like, half a million followers, even though he barely ever posts anything.

I prepare brunch, mixing up a quick batch of mushroom, zucchini, and quinoa muffins and pop them in the oven along with a pastrami hash. That’s when I decide it’s a good time to fill my car with windscreen washer fluid. It’s part of my independence-glow-up. Casey always did it for me when I lived here but it’s time to turn my hand to all the things an independent woman would be able to do.

Carrying the gallon-sized bottle of washer fluid out onto the driveway. I press the car keys and then try to lift the hood, but it doesn’t budge. I thought it worked like the trunk, but no. I search for a release button—no joy and then decide it must work from the inside.

Where would I be if I was the secret lever for the hood? Hmmm.

My Dad would freak out if he knew I was this inept with general car maintenance.

A gorgeous scent fills the air and then a warm hand roves over my jean cut-off covered butt.

“What do we have here?” his Canadian accent comes out strong as I wiggle a little and he groans, squeezing a bit harder. I straighten up and take him in—gorgeous as ever.

“Hey, Cutie,” I say and cringe, gosh this is harder than I thought, thinking up a cute name to call him.

He laughs. “Good job I’ve got mine down, eh, Peaches? What brings you over so early this morning?”

“I was on a mission and Jack wanted to come to Casey’s for breakfast, so we just bundled into the car and made our way over.”

“I saw what Casey posted; you know they are only going to get you back ten times

over,” he says with a raised eyebrow.

“Gunner Grey, can’t you let me bask in my epic prank glory for just a morning?”

I pout.

“I’m just saying is all. You’re going to end up regretting this?”

“I can take it. I’ll just get them back,” I say defiantly.

“You Madden siblings are nuts.” He shakes his head. “So what are you doing out here?”

“I’m going to fill up my windshield washer thingy,” I say proudly, making him smile.

“Do you want me to show you how to open the hood?”

I bite my lip as I decide whether to accept his help or not. “Okay, but just point so I know where the lever is.”

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