Page 32 of Heroes & Hitmen (Windy City Wolfpack #1)

Miley

The laugh that bursts out of me is real– full-bodied, a little breathless, and so unexpected that I slap a hand over my mouth like I can stuff it back in.

Spoiler: I can’t. It keeps escaping, the sound of it mingling with the rumble of Ares’ laughter beside me.

We’re tucked in a booth opposite his friend Will, Ares’ arm slung lazily over my shoulders and my fingers curled around a fruity cocktail. The drink is ridiculously sweet to mask the alcohol, like candy in a glass. I love it.

The company isn’t half bad, either. Will is deep into his retelling of a story about getting chased out of this very bar by a jealous ex, and I’m trying not to spill my drink as my shoulders shake with laughter.

“Wait, she actually threw a shoe at you?” Ares snorts, gawking at his friend.

Will winces, rubbing at the back of his head like he can still feel the pain of where it struck. “Like I said, she went crazy, bro.”

“I’m surprised you dared to show your face in here again,” I tease, shaking my head with a giggle.

Will makes a show of looking around nervously, a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth as he leans in conspiratorially. “Just give me a heads up if you see a pissed-off brunette coming this way so I can make a break for it.”

“Before or after she kicks her heels off?” Ares asks, smirking .

“Before, preferably,” Will snorts, taking a long swig of his beer like it’ll erase the memory.

I wasn’t sure what to expect when I said yes to dinner and drinks tonight, but I had a feeling it’d involve forced small talk, awkward silences, and the constant anxiety of our secret being discovered.

Instead, I got this . Laughter. Easy conversation.

A glimpse at a world that doesn’t revolve around control, contracts, or countdowns.

Dare I say I’m having a good time?

Ares has surprisingly good taste in friends. Will is great– fun to be around, easy to talk to, and apparently a magnet for dramatic women with good aim.

“There seem to be some holes in this story,” I muse, narrowing my eyes on Will as I take a sip from my drink. “Girls don’t just go around throwing shoes for no reason.”

Will’s face reddens and he downs another gulp of beer, swallowing it before murmuring, “Well, she might’ve caught me hitting on her best friend.”

Ares barks a laugh while I narrow my eyes on Will, cracking a smile of my own. “So, what I’m hearing is you deserved it.”

“Does anyone deserve to have a shoe lobbed at their head?” He asks, wide-eyed.

I flicker Ares a sideways glance, a smirk pulling at my lips. “Debatable.”

Ares shakes his head with a chuckle as he turns toward me, lips brushing my temple like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “You’re supposed to be on my side, sweetheart.”

His use of that pet name usually makes me roll my eyes, but it lands differently while we’re deep in this dangerous game of pretend. Instead of biting out a comeback or pushing him away, I sink further into the crook of his arm, the heat of his body bleeding into mine.

Will’s eyes dart between the two of us, a smile pulling at his lips. We must look pretty damn convincing as a couple right now. Then again, I suppose that’s the whole point of this charade.

The bar we migrated to after dinner is pack-owned, meaning there are plenty of curious eyes on us warranting the need to keep up appearances.

This place is loud and rowdy, the kind of atmosphere I’d have hated a month ago.

I probably should hate it now, but sitting here, half-tipsy under Ares’ arm, I don’t feel at all out of my element.

Maybe it’s the drinks. Maybe it’s the company. Maybe it’s the fact Ares’ hand hasn’t left my leg since we sat down.

Every so often, his fingers flex just enough to remind me they’re there, brushing the bare skin where my skirt rides up and gripping my thigh with casual possessiveness.

I haven’t made any move to stop him. I’m enjoying this whole act a little too much, laughing at his friend’s stories and not bothering to move away when Ares tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

I think some tiny, masochistic part of me wishes this performance was actually real.

His hand slides higher on my thigh, slow and deliberate.

I freeze with my glass halfway to my lips, skin prickling with electricity.

I know he feels the way my muscles tense, the shift in the electric current that always seems to be running between us.

I try not to react, but Will notices the slip in my composure, his lips pulling into a teasing grin.

“I know you two are disgustingly in love, but you don’t have to rub it in everyone’s faces,” he jibes.

Ares just smirks and squeezes my thigh like he owns it. “Can’t help it. Gotta keep her sweet so she doesn’t get any ideas about running off with someone else.”

I arch a brow, glancing around the bar. “Well, there are plenty of options…”

Ares turns to look at me, his eyes darkening. “You think anyone else in this bar could handle you, babe?”

My mouth runs dry.

I open it to speak, but nothing comes out, so I close it again, pressing my lips in a tight line. Real smooth.

The heat from Ares’ touch has turned molten, spreading through me like wildfire as his hand inches higher up my thigh. He knows exactly what he’s doing– and worse, I’m letting him, leaning into it like this all won’t come back to bite me in the ass.

Will catches the shift in the air between us and thankfully cuts in before I combust. “Alright, I’ve gotta know… what’s it like?” he asks, leaning forward eagerly. “Were there any signs of the fated bond before it locked in?”

“Definitely,” Ares answers without hesitation, those dark eyes still fixed on me. “I knew there was something special about Miley from the first time I laid eyes on her. It was like a switch flipped, and suddenly everything before was just… irrelevant.”

I know this is all performative, but dammit he’s a good liar. His words hit like a blow to the chest, my heartbeat kicking into overdrive. I can’t tell if it’s the liquor, my starry-eyed inner wolf, or the way he’s looking at me like I’m the only person in the room.

Probably all three.

I’m suddenly too hot, my head fuzzy, my entire body buzzing with a restless energy that I can’t shake. My hand drifts down to his knee, resting there just long enough to send a signal. Ares glances down at it, then back up at me, his smirk deepening.

The lines we drew are blurring. Hell, maybe they’d already blurred and I’m just now noticing. This all started as a lie, but if you tell a lie enough times, it starts to feel like the truth.

“To fated mates,” Will says, dragging me out of the spell I’m under. I whip my head in his direction to find him smiling back at me, beer raised. “May we all be so lucky.”

Clearing my throat, I reach for my drink and clink it against his, draining the rest of my sugary cocktail. My empty glass hits the table just as Ares leans in, his warm breath rasping against the shell of my ear.

“You about ready to go home?”

My stomach swoops and I nod, unable to force words past the lump in my throat.

He shifts beside me, thigh pressing tight against mine as he pulls out his wallet. He tosses a wad of bills onto the table– more than enough to cover the tab– then downs the last of his beer in one swallow and pushes up to stand.

“We’re gonna head out,” he tells Will. “You good?”

Will gives him a lazy smile, lifting a hand to offer him a fist-bump. “Yeah, man. We’ve gotta do this again sometime.” He swings his gaze over to me, blue eyes twinkling. “It was really nice meeting you, Miley.”

“You too,” I say with a smile as I allow Ares to pull me up from the booth. His arm slips around my waist, warm and solid, and it’s almost enough to make me forget that this is all just a game. That tomorrow, we’ll be back to plotting escape routes and lying to everyone we know.

I toss Will a wave over my shoulder as Ares starts steering me toward the exit, leaning down to murmur in my ear again, voice low and full of mischief. “So, are we really heading home, or did you wanna check out the back alley first?”

I choke on a laugh, elbowing him in the ribs. “What is it with you and public indecency?”

“Kinda thought that was your thing,” he drawls, hand tightening on my waist as he flashes me a grin. “Among others.”

“ Stop ,” I warn, even as a traitorous smile tugs at my mouth.

A chuckle rumbles in his chest as he pulls me in tighter until my side is flush against his. His lips skim my temple, all heat and intent. “If you really wanted me to stop,” he murmurs, “your delivery would need to be a hell of a lot more convincing than that, babe.”

I shoot him a mock-glare, not bothering to respond. Because we both know I don’t want him to stop, and I’m officially done pretending otherwise.

Twenty minutes later, we’re stumbling into our apartment like a pair of drunk teenagers, Ares quickly locking the door to seal us inside. The solid thud of the deadbolt sliding into place signals that we’re finally alone– no more prying eyes, no more putting on a show for the pack. It’s just us.

Not that Ares seems to notice the difference.

His hands are still on me, fingertips skating across my lower back, tracing the waistband of my skirt. I manage to slip out of his grip just long enough to toe off my heels and set down my purse, but then he’s right behind me, arms caging me against the wall as I flick on the lights.

“What are you doing?” I ask breathily, glancing over my shoulder to meet his gaze.

He leans in close, the heat of his body wrapping around me and the fire in his eyes threatening to set me ablaze. His mouth curves with the kind of confidence that should be illegal as he replies, “You know.”

Oh, I do . All too well.