The Moth and the Flame (When Rivals Play #2) - B.B. Reid Page 0,89

gaze. “What did you just say?” The black look he gave me warned me to back down, but the memory of Fox slaying that innocent family wouldn’t let me dare.

“You heard me.”

Wren had the power to make me do anything he wanted by force or finesse although he hardly ever bothered with the latter, so when he didn’t do either, I knew without a doubt that I had hurt him.

“Get back in the car.”

I did. Neither of us spoke a word or dared to breathe too loudly as he pulled the car back onto the road. The camera holding enough evidence to put Fox away for a long time, if not forever, was resting in his lap. I didn’t take it back even though I knew he wouldn’t stop me.

Ten minutes later, he pulled into the garage of a two-story stone and vinyl home where the smell of salt was even heavier in the air. I wanted to ask who lived here, but Wren was already out of the car and stalking toward the door by the time I’d built up the courage.

He didn’t wait to see if I’d follow as he pushed open the unlocked door attached to the garage and crossed the threshold a second later. My confusion only mounted because I knew without a doubt the home didn’t belong to Wren. If Wren had his way, his dream home would be completely secluded. Perhaps underground or in a cave, and you’d have to wade through shark-infested waters or wrestle a bear to gain access.

With a sigh, I unbuckled my seat belt and followed him.

Inside, the smell of cinnamon assaulted my nose, making my stomach growl. I followed the sound of beeping and found Wren inside the kitchen, removing a plate filled with cinnamon rolls from the microwave. The kitchen had pastel pink walls, dark blue granite countertops, frilly white and pink striped curtains decorating the windows, and white cabinetry. Our gazes instantly met across the center island, but then, just as quickly, he turned away and removed an old-fashioned milk jug from the fridge.

I watched him take the jug to the head and drain half the container before stopping. Heat bloomed in my stomach as I watched him move around in such a domestic setting. Every action he took showed how at home he felt in the space.

“Who lives here?”

Picking up a cinnamon roll, he bit into and chewed thoughtfully as if considering answering. “Does it matter?” he said after swallowing. “You’re safe here.”

Before I could argue, he swaggered past me with the rest of his cinnamon roll and disappeared from the kitchen. It hadn’t escaped my notice that he never offered me one. Hoping to piss him off since he clearly didn’t care to share, I snagged one from the plate. Before I could enjoy my sweet revenge, however, I noticed a handwritten note lying next to the discarded saran wrap.

Biting into my roll, I picked up the note and read it without a second thought as to whether I should.

Sweet rolls for my sweet boy.

Love,

Nana

PS. There’s fresh milk. Use a glass.

A giggle escaped me, but then it died when shock and betrayal rippled through me in its wake.

Nana? As in his grandmother? As in Wren had a family?

Why hadn’t he told me? I’d questioned if I could trust him because of his loyalty to Exiled. I never once questioned if he trusted me.

“What are you doing?”

I whirled around with the note in my hand, and rather than hide the fact that I’d read it, I held it up accusingly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. It was fucking huge. All this time, I thought he was alone out in the world like me. As his best friend, I should have been happy for him, but instead, just like at the skatepark, I felt like I didn’t know him at all.

“You told me you lived with a woman who took care of you. You never mentioned that woman was your grandmother.”

I expected him to brush me off as usual, but instead, he surprised me when he said, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” I was even more taken aback by the sincerity in his voice.

I could only nod as I hid my surprise. “Where is she?”

“She left for one of those world cruises this morning,” he answered as he grabbed another roll. “She’ll be gone for a few months.”

“Does this mean we’ll have this place to ourselves?” I blinked