Page 74
Story: Bunker Down, Baby
The table’s already set. Plates. Drinks. Napkins. Like this is a real meal and not the opening scene to a psychotic breakdown.
Dean’s got his chair kicked back on two legs, fork in his mouth, hair a mess, sleeves rolled up like he’s been building a new world one screw at a time. Wade’s next to him, calm and golden, arms folded, smiling like he’s known me for years. Evan’s across the table. Straight-backed. Quiet. Watching.
Maple slips between Wade and Dean like it’s choreographed. Dean immediately throws an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. Wade presses a hand to her thigh under the table, like it’s reflex. Neither look at each other, but both touch her like it’s just part of how they breathe now.
I sit at the open spot across from her.
They don’t say anything at first. Just look, assessing me.
Dean grins. “So this is the grizzly.”
Wade chuckles. “More like a wolf. Wild. Might snap if you reach too fast.”
Evan sips his water and says, completely deadpan, “Please don’t eat anyone. The rest of us are adjusting fine.”
Maple beams like someone just handed her a baby goat. “See? They’re so welcoming.”
Dean leans in and forks a piece of roasted carrot into Maple’s mouth. She takes it like that’s normal, lips closing slow, tongue flashing just enough to make me stare longer than I should.
Wade immediately cuts a bite of meat, lifts it to her lips, and raises a brow like ‘beat that, asshole.’
She takes that bite too.
Evan sighs. “Is this dinner or a fertility ritual?”
“Depends on who finishes their plate first,” Dean says.
Wade smirks. “She likes a man with an appetite.”
“I swear to god,” Evan mutters, but he’s hiding a smile behind his glass.
I keep my face blank. But I’m watching.
Dean’s all swagger and heat. Talks like his mouth runs on caffeine and sin.
Wade’s quiet fire. Easy, slow-moving, but you can tell, poke too hard, and he’ll break something in half.
Evan’s the danger you miss until it’s too late. That stillness, that patience. That’s not calm. That’s calculation.
And Maple? She’s eating it all up. Literally.
She catches me watching and raises her glass in a mock toast. “To new beginnings.”
I raise mine back.
Not because I’m sold, but because this is not what I expected.
And maybe, just maybe, I don’t hate it.
Chapter Twenty
Maple
By the time the last plate’s scraped clean and someone moans the words ‘no more potatoes,’ Dean already has the cards out like he’s been waiting his whole life for this exact moment.
He doesn’t even ask, just slaps the deck on the table and grins around the room like yes, obviously we’re doing this.
“Strip poker,” he says, like it’s a sacred rite.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74 (Reading here)
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103