Page 139 of Claim & Don't Tell

“Damn right, we are,” Brady says. “Watching you cry physically hurts me. I hate it, and I wish we could drive back to Atlantic Avenue and punch your dads all over again.”

I shove back the sadness that tries to surge up and shake my head. “I’m done giving them my attention and love.” Pausing, I wonder if it’s too early to say it or if it’ll scare them off. We’re mates. There’s no breaking that bond, unless one of us dies.“Besides, I think I love you guys, and that’s enough to fill my heart.”

“We love you too, little omega,” Dylan says, reaching back to pat my leg. “Now, can we get out of this hot-ass car and binge-watchShameless?”

“That show is intense.”

Dylan arches his eyebrow at me. “Exactly. Trust me, you’ll feel better about your life when you watch Fiona spiral. She’s the best character in the show, but she’s a mess.”

“I’ll make the snacks.” Austin pops his door open and guides me out first.

Knowing him, it’ll be a fancy charcuterie board, but I’m not complaining.

Dylan climbs out. “I’ll grab the drinks.”

“I guess that leaves me getting the blankets, again,” Brady mumbles as he exits the vehicle.

“You make such a handsome blanket bitch,” I tell him, shooting a sly grin over the top of the car.

His gaze darkens. “Say it again.”

I mime zipping my lips and take a step back as he prowls around the hood of the car. “Brady,” I warn when he starts to walk a little faster.

“I’m a blanket bitch, huh?” he asks.

Austin and Dylan step aside, doing nothing to stop him. Traitors.

Turning, I make a break for the door. “Don’t even think about it,” I tell him over my shoulder.

“Where are you running to, princess?” he asks with a dark laugh.

Unlike the last time he chased after me, this time, I can’t wait for him to catch me.

Fifty-One

AUSTIN

I usually enjoy working. The rush of pressure and the masterpieces I get to oversee give me life, but today, as I’m washing my hands and listening to the crew prepare for opening, I can’t help but wish I was at home.

After the incident with Quinn’s dads, we spent the rest of the night and the next day lounging together, basking in our freedom while it lasted. I hate the idea of having to hide my affection for her. Brady and Quinn were right, though. We shouldn’t break the news of our relationship right as our parents get home, and if Quinn needs time, I’ll wait until she’s ready.

I grab a towel and dry my hands, turning around to study the kitchen.

It doesn’t take a genius to know Quinn is scared her mom will reject her.

Her dads did a fucking number on her trust, and for that, I fantasize about slowly torturing them to death. I won’t act on those urges, though. I refuse to do anything that might change the way Quinn sees me, and murdering her dads might change the dynamics of our relationship.

But if she wants them gone, I’ll find a way to make it happen, and I know my brothers would be more than happy to help.

“Chef?”

Pulling my focus back to the kitchen, I turn and take in the short-statured beta. “What’s up, Mia?”

“Are you okay? You seem distracted.”

“I’m good,” I tell her with a nod. “Thanks for checking in.”

She narrows her gaze. “You’re lying, but okay, Chef. It’s almost game time.”

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