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I think they may be right.

My stomach growls, making us both look down at the mayhem of bags at our feet with a laugh. “Pretty sure it’s going to take forever to sort this out on your own. Might be better with two sets of hands.”

Dez squeezes my hand again, then lets me go. “Grab a bag. I’ll get the rest.”

Ignoring instructions and Dez’s playful growl, I grab a few bags and head for the kitchen. It looks the same as mine, builder grade boring, as Lacey would call it. The L-shaped kitchen’slaminate countertops are new and the large window peering into the backyard looks like it’s been cleaned recently. No sign of the dead insects I found in the corners of my place on move in day.

There’s some kind of scuffle behind me that ends with a sharp growl and the snap of a door. Energy sings through the air as Dez sets the bags down on the counter, hands clenched. My chest tightens as his back moves in a long, deep breath.

“Something wrong?”

He uncoils from his position, and every inch he obliterates steals a little more of my air. “Just someone who doesn’t want to keep their fucking eyes.”

Oh.

Pack Parker never would’ve threatened another man for looking at me. I was their pretty little prize to show off whenever they chose and only on their terms. That Dez would nearly go to blows because someone looked at me wrong…fuck me. These panties are toast.

“Didn’t realize you’re the jealous type,” I tease, pretending I’m not fighting the urge to pin him down right here.

“I’m not jealous, but I won’t put up with some idiot staring at you when he shouldn’t be.” Dez’s thumb traces my smirk, the small touch feeling like so much more. “No one looks at you like that but us.”

Well, alright then.

We work in silence, unpacking the hoard of containers until everything’s in view. They bought enough food for a football team, getting a little something from every decent restaurant in the immediate area. Indian, fresh sushi, Mexican, Greek and even Ethiopian that smells rich and ready to get in my mouth. There’s also the basics like burgers, pasta, and fish and chips. Safe options. Looks like they thought of everything.

Dez grabs a plate from the small stack near the sink and jerks his chin toward the chaos. “What looks good?”

“Uh, all of it?”

“Then we’ll start with your favorites.”

“I don’t have any.”

He frowns. “You never went out and ate with your parents? Your exes?”

“No.” I don’t want to tell him that takeout doesn’t exist when your parents have a full-time chef. Don’t get me started on Jacob’s fucking diet.

“Fucks’ sake,” Dez mutters. “Are you telling me they never once tried to learn what your favorite foods were?”

I shake my head.

“Your favorite color?”

“Nope.”

“Hobbies?”

I just laugh at that one.

“Damn, Daph.” Dez sets the plate down and clutches me to him, tucking his nose into my hair for an extended inhale. “They never deserved you.”

The scariest thing is, I believe he means it. I just have no idea how to tell him I’m nothing special, even if he makes me wish I was.

THE OTHER SHOE

CONNOR

I’ve doneeverything but shave my balls to avoid going back downstairs. Back to Daphne. Her sweet scent filling the room beside that blanket she’s wearing like a goddamn mantle. Cum, heat, and hardcore fucking draped over the shoulders of a woman I shouldn’t be looking at but can’t stop watching.