Page 77

The thin walls of the clubhouse are a special kind of torture at six in the morning.

"Oh fuck, Geirolf, right there?—"

I bury my face in Regnor's chest, trying to block out the sounds coming from the room next door.

Astrid and Geirolf, going at it like they're trying to wake the entire compound.

"Jesus," Regnor mutters, voice rough with sleep. "They know these walls are paper-thin, right?"

A rhythmic thumping joins Astrid's moans, and I can't help the embarrassed laugh that escapes. "Apparently they don't care."

"Or they're showing off." He pulls me closer, hand splaying across my back. "Want me to bang on the wall? Tell them to keep it down?"

"No!" The thought of them knowing we can hear everything makes my face burn hotter. "Just... ignore it."

"Kind of hard to ignore when?—"

Astrid's voice rises to a pitch that probably woke everyone on this floor.

"Okay, that's just excessive," I mutter.

The headboard banging gets more intense, and I hear Geirolf's deep growl join the symphony.

"For fuck's sake," Regnor grumbles. "At least we try to be quiet."

"Do we?" I think about last night, how he had to cover my mouth with his hand to muffle my cries.

"Quieter than that." He gestures at the wall. "That's just showing off."

"Maybe they forgot the walls are crap?"

"Nobody forgets when the walls are this thin. Trust me." His hand traces lazy circles on my back. "First time I brought a girl back here, years ago, Tor gave me shit for a week about the sounds she made."

"You brought other girls here?" I don't know why that bothers me, but it does.

"Yearsago," he emphasizes. "Before you were even legal, Goldilocks. Don't get jealous now."

"I'm not jealous," I lie.

"Sure you're not." He kisses my forehead. "If it helps, none of them mattered. None of them stayed."

"And I will?"

"Yeah," he says simply. "You will."

Regnor chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Welcome to communal living, sweetie. This is why most of us have houses."

"Why don't you?"

He's quiet for a moment. "Never saw the point before. The clubhouse was enough. A bed, a shower, somewhere to crash between runs. Didn't need more than that."

"And now?"

"Now I've got a pregnant woman who deserves better than listening to other people fuck at dawn."

"I don't need?—"

"Yeah, you do." He cuts me off gently. "You need stability. The baby needs a real home. We'll start looking soon as things calm down with Dylan."