Page 302 of Blackwood

With a groan, I blindly grab the nearest weapon—my water bottle—and hurl it at his head. It thuds against the door frame.

“Whoa! Friendly fire!” Knox ducks, laughing. “Look likes your arm is still working. Impressive.”

I flip him off. “Get out,” I croak, burrowing deeper into the blanket.

“Love you too,” he calls as he backs down the hallway. “Remember, hydration and vibes only, bitch.” The door clicks shut behind him.

Lex snorts. “He’s lucky you didn’t hit him.”

“Please. If I wanted to hit him, he’d still be on the floor. I was aiming for his ego,” I mutter, curling into Cade’s side like a hungover goblin.

Cade stretches beside me, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “You want me to make you something to eat?”

“Oh my God. Yes. Anything greasy and terrible for me. Bonus points if it’s covered in syrup and regret.”

He bends down to kiss my temple. “Back in a few, sweetheart.”

I watch him walk out shirtless, yawning, muscles flexing with every lazy stretch. I’m already picturing pancakes, bacon, hash browns, the works.

The second the door shuts, Lex props himself up on one elbow, eyes glinting, mouth already curved with that unmistakable look. The look that says there is trouble brewing and he’s fully aware of it.

“Damn, baby…” he drawls.

I blink at him. “What now?”

He reaches out, brushing hair off my face, knuckles grazing my cheek like he’s trying to kill me with slow affection. “You were so sexy last night. That damn top? Lex’s Bitch?” He groans like he’s physically in pain. “I nearly lost it. I was five seconds from pulling you off that table and fucking you over the DJ booth.”

I laugh, voice still scratchy. “We’d get banned from The Row.”

“We’d get crowned, more like it.” He leans in, mouth brushing my jaw. “And get this, my dad saw it.”

“Wait. What?”

He grins. “Yeah. He was there. Lurking in the shadows like a Bond villain. Said, and I quote, ‘My son’s girl might need to be carried out, but at least she’s the hottest one in the building,’ or some shit like that.”

I smack his chest. “Lex! You didn’t tell me your father was watching!”

He shrugs like it’s nothing. “He was impressed.”

I groan, burying my face in my hands. “That makes two of them. Roman was there too.”

Lex rears back. “Excuse me?! Why was that fucker there?”

“Chill, baby. He was doing his whole mafia-Batman thing. Perched near the exit, glaring at anyone who breathed near me.”

Lex blinks, then snorts. “What the fuck kind of weird parent trap spin-off shit did we end up creating?”

We both start laughing. Which is a mistake. Laughing hurts. Everything hurts. But I’m still giggling when he slides closer, pressing a kiss to my neck.

His hand slips under the hoodie I stole last night—his hoodie, oversized and warm and totally mine now. “Seeing you in this does things to me, baby.”

“I’m literally dying,” I mutter. “My soul is ninety percent bourbon and bad decisions.”

“And yet you’re still the hottest fucking thing in this city.”

He pulls the hoodie up, exposing my bare skin, and lets out a low groan. His mouth finds my collarbone, kissing lower, dragging his tongue over the edge of my breast until his lips close over my nipple. My gasp echoes, sharp and needy, as my fingers thread into his hair.

He groans into my skin. “You’re gonna kill me, baby. I swear to God, you’re gonna end me.”