Madi claps her hands in delight and reaches for the bottle of prosecco to pour another round.
Aubrey picks up her refilled glass and drinks from it.
It’s hard for a wolf to even get buzzed because we metabolize alcohol so quickly, but I can tell Cafe Girl’s on the border of drinking too much.
Her movements are getting jerkier and reactions slower.
Part of me doesn’t mind seeing her with lowered inhibitions.
But it riles my wolf as if she’s in some kind of danger here.
From me, perhaps.
Certainly not Madi or Brick.
“What else do you need from us?”
Brick cuts in.
He’s got his hands all over Madi.
I’m sure he wants to get her alone again.
With the amount of sex those two get, it’s a wonder she’s not knocked up already.
“Help with the guest list,” Aubrey answers.
“And we need to set a date.
Do we want it right before the wedding?”
Madi muses.
“Yes.
Let’s do it the week of the wedding, arriving back home at least two days before the ceremony.
I’ll put together my guest list this weekend and get it to you, but I think it will just be you and Brick’s two sisters.”
Brick’s fingers slide along Madi’s inner thigh, inside the skirt of her form-fitting dress.
She lets out a soft moan.
Aubrey covers her eyes.
“God, you two.
Unless you’re angling for a foursome, I think you’d better take it upstairs.”
My wolf bristles.
The idea of Cafe Girl participating in any orgy-even one involving me, seems to piss him off.
Brick lifts Madi from his lap and rises at the same time.
“Billy.
Aubrey.”
He gives me a solemn nod.
He’s satisfied with me.
He doesn’t say it, but I register my alpha’s approval as much as my body would register alpha command.
I’m starting to win my way back into his good graces.
The sense of victory makes me want to pounce on the helpless human.
To claim her for a victory fuck-fast and furious.
Just enough to work the aggression out of my system, so I can toss her away.
Aubrey also stands.
“All right.
We’ll be in touch.
Madi, I’ll see you Thursday night.”
She hugs her friend, and for a moment, something dark and seething swirls in my gut.
A familiar feeling from my childhood.
That sense of wanting something given to someone else.
“Can Tony run Aubrey home?”
Madi asks Brick.
“Of course.”
Brick pulls out his phone.
“No, I’m good,” Aubrey says quickly.
“Limos are not my style.”
“You’ve been drinking.”
My words come out in a harsh growl.
She sends me a sharp, offended look, accompanied by a frown.
“I didn’t drive here.”
She thinks I’m accusing her of drunk driving.
Madi tugs her toward the door.
“They think the subway is unsafe.
Take a cab, or they’ll stuff you in the limo,” my luna advises her friend.
For fuck’s sake.
In what universe is taking a limo to Brooklyn a hardship?
Apparently in Aubrey Cook’s upside down artist-activist world.
“Fine, I’ll take a cab,” she says quickly.
“Thanks for the bubbles, Suit!”
She precedes Brick and Madi to the door.
I follow, not sure why I’m so annoyed.
The ridiculous human seems to keep me in a constant state of annoyance, though.
She finally turns to make eye contact after she’s through the door.
“I’ll be in touch.”
She holds her thumb to her ear and pinky to her mouth to mimic a phone.
“I’ll brace myself,” I mutter.
Aubrey
They wanted to send me home in a limo.
That fact alone should tell me that Madi and I live in completely different worlds now.
And she’s not coming back to mine.
Even if things don’t work out with her marriage-which I couldn’t imagine-she recently discovered her paternal grandmother is also a billionaire who wants her to take over the cosmetic company when she dies.
So Madi’s never going to be like me again.
Maybe I should just grieve the ending of what we had and move on.
Taking a painting job with a douchebag I can’t stand just to stay close to her seems absurd now that I’m out on the street.
And fuck a cab.
They think the subway is dangerous?
I’ve been riding it alone since I was twelve.
I grew up in Brooklyn.
Why should I be afraid of public transport?
I walk to the subway station and board the train.
I snag a seat as my phone rings.
It’s Jamie.
I’m not sure why she’s calling me rather than Jan, but I pick up.
“Hey Jamie.”
“Don’t use my name,” she utters urgently into the phone.
I have to press my ear to the receiver to hear her over the noise in the train.
“What’s going on?”
“We can’t text anymore.
I think I’m being watched.”
Alarm bells go off.
No wonder I got a weird vibe earlier.
“Shit,” I mutter.
“What makes you think that?”
“I saw a guy across the street just sitting in his car.
I can’t meet in person again.
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