Friends With The Monsters - Albany Walker Page 0,76
Gunnar accentuates the last word.
“So, no good guy, bad guy? I make a really good bad guy,” I offer, while waggling my eyebrows.
“What do you know about being the bad guy?” Calix snickers.
“I’ll have you know, a Brownie taught me her interrogation techniques.” I smirk, full of pride. That gets Calix’s and Grim’s attention.
Gunnar actually cracks a smile. “No shit?”
“Aeson, she’s one of my best friends,” I brag.
“No, no. I really don’t think that will be necessary.” Calix darts his eyes to Grim. “Let’s just go in, hang out, and see what we can learn.”
“I think we should talk to that Joe guy. Something about him was iffy.” I pull on a leather jacket and lift my hair out of the collar.
“If he’s there, we’ll talk to him,” Grim concedes. “Tell me about this back office.” He looks at Gunnar.
I groan. “Not that place! It’s worse than the bathroom.”
“You wouldn’t think that if you knew half the shit that goes down in that bathroom,” Gunnar mumbles dejectedly.
“I thought I was going to contract herpes from your couch,” I counter.
“It’s not that bad. Back of the club, ground level, last office on the left,” Gunnar directs Grim. “If you need a quiet exit, the code to get back in the door is zero-five-two-zero.”
“That’s my birthday, May twentieth,” I chirp.
“I know.” Gunnar glances down at me.
“Oh…you did that…like, on purpose?” I stammer a little. I don’t even really celebrate my birthday.
“Yes, it’s a date I’ll never forget,” Gunnar admits, unabashed.
“I knew there was a reason I liked you, Kitten.” I grab hold of Gunnar’s shirt and drag him down to my lips, planting a quick, hard kiss on his mouth.
When I release him, Grim is watching me. “I knew it was your birthday too,” he blurts.
A burst of laughter erupts from me. “If you want a kiss, all you have to do is ask.” I set my hands on my hips and wait.
“I want a kiss.” Calix raises his hand and responds quickly.
Grim pushes his way in front of me before I can step over to Calix. Grim scowls at the other man then turns his attention to me. “May I have a kiss, please?” Grim’s voice is pitched low as he crowds into my space. He licks his bottom lip and waits. He has the patience of a saint.
I hear Gunnar’s huff and a shuffling movement. I bet he’s turning away so he doesn’t have to see, and he should, because this isn’t going to be just a peck. I mean, Grim asked so nicely. I wonder how many more times I could get him to say please. I peer up at him from under my lashes and beckon him down to me with a crook of my finger.
He leans down, his eyes still locked on mine, and pauses with his lips a hairsbreadth away from mine. Without any more notice, I push my lips against Grim’s and slide my tongue into his mouth. His hands wrap around my head, and he gives back just as much as I’m giving. I bite his bottom lip in response.
“Oh, okay. I think we need to get going,” Calix singsongs. I ignore him and wrap my arms around Grim’s torso. I’ve never really thought about my height, but right now, I wish I were a little taller, so he wouldn’t have to bend down, and I could feel his entire body against mine.
Grim breaks the kiss, leaving me a little breathless. He doesn’t pull away though. While staring right into my eyes, he announces, “I call big spoon.” I take in how serious Grim’s face is, and another surge of laughter escapes me.
“Ah, hell. Little spoon,” Calix grumbles.
“There’s no calling dibs!” Gunnar hollers. I look over my shoulder to find him across the room, his face contorted into an angry mask. I know from my small bit of past experience that he’s close to losing what little control he maintains over his Berserker abilities. An evil grin spreads over my face. I wonder what will happen when he loses the battle. Fun stuff, I’m sure.
I clap my hands together before we dissolve into another argument. “Time to go. Chop, chop.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it. You guys slept with her last night.” I can already see Gunnar’s features returning to normal. Maybe he’s finally getting used to the other guys. I hope he doesn’t ditch the attitude altogether, though. I like my kitten with claws.
“How else are we supposed to decide—draw straws?” Calix mutters