Page 24 of Knot So Fast (Speedverse #1)

DANGEROUS WATERS

~ A UREN~

"I'm taking a bath right now at Wren's place, or I would FaceTime," I say into the phone, trying to keep my voice steady and casual despite the fact that I'm standing in a strange bathroom wearing a soaking wet dress and lying through my teeth.

My mother's voice comes through sharp with worry and barely concealed irritation.

"It's taken you far too many times to answer, Auren. We were getting concerned."

I groan dramatically, injecting just the right amount of exasperation into my tone.

"Because you're not supposed to have your phone with you in the bath! Don't you recall that girl who electrocuted herself because she dropped her phone in the water? You know how clumsy I am—you should be worried for my wellbeing, not upset that I'm being safety-conscious."

There's a pause, and I can practically hear my parents exchanging one of their loaded looks through the phone connection. My father's voice takes over, his tone carrying that particular brand of paternal authority that used to make me cave instantly as a child.

"The staff informed us you weren't in your room when we came to check on you."

Shit. Of course they checked.

I should have known they wouldn't just take my word for it when I said I was going to bed with a headache. These are the same people who probably have private investigators on speed dial and consider surveillance a form of parental love.

"That's because Wren came over while you were talking to that Caspian dude," I explain, thinking quickly on my feet. "She offered me a ride to her place since she could tell I wasn't feeling great. You know how she is—always mothering me when I'm under the weather."

"How did Wren get to our estate?" My mother's question is perfectly reasonable and absolutely inconvenient.

But I'm ready for this one, thank god for Wren's habit of leaving her vehicles everywhere.

"With her bike. You can check the garage—it's there."

The silence that follows is loaded with the weight of them actually checking, and I have to physically stop myself from holding my breath.

Wren's motorcycle is indeed in my parents' garage because she borrowed my car two weeks ago and left the bike as collateral, then kept "forgetting" to switch them back.

It's the kind of happy accident that's about to save my ass.

"The staff confirms there is a motorcycle in the garage," my father says slowly, and I can hear the reluctance in his voice to admit that my story checks out.

"See? I told you," I say, allowing a note of hurt to creep into my voice. "Wren and Rory leave their vehicles at your place all the time when they're staying over. It's been happening for the last six months at least. I can't believe you're checking up on me like I'm some teenager breaking curfew."

"You're right," my mother admits with a sigh. "We've noticed their vehicles there frequently. We're just... concerned about you, darling. After everything that's happened."

I have to calm my racing heartbeat, the reality of how closely they're monitoring me hitting home with uncomfortable clarity. It makes me wonder if they have a tracker on my phone or my car—hell, maybe even in my jewelry for all I know.

But I keep that paranoid thought to myself, focusing instead on selling this lie with every ounce of conviction I can muster.

"I understand," I say softly, playing up the dutiful daughter angle. "And I appreciate your concern, really. I'm fine, just needed some girl time with Wren. You know how she always makes me feel better when I'm stressed."

"Alright," my father says finally, though he doesn't sound entirely convinced. "You can stay at Wren's tonight. But we'd like you back for lunch tomorrow so we can have a family brunch. The three of us haven't had quality time together in too long."

"Of course," I agree immediately, knowing that pushing back would only increase their suspicion. "That sounds lovely. I'll be there by noon."

"Eleven-thirty," my mother corrects, because god forbid we eat at a normal time like regular people.

"Eleven-thirty," I confirm, already dreading whatever orchestrated conversation about my future they're planning to ambush me with over eggs Benedict and mimosas.

"Thank you for being so concerned about my wellbeing," I add, laying it on thick because sometimes the best defense is an emotional offense. "It means a lot to know you care so much. I love you both."

"We love you too, sweetheart," my mother says, her voice softening slightly. "Sleep well."

When I finally hang up, I let out a breath so deep it feels like I've been holding it since I first saw my parents' names on the caller ID.

My hands are shaking slightly as I set the phone on the marble floor beside the tub, sliding it across to the far side where I can't reach it even if I wanted to. The last thing I need is to accidentally drop it in the water and make my lie about electrocution risks a horrible reality.

I sink lower into the bubbles, letting the hot water work on muscles I didn't realize were so tense until now. The bath is perfect—exactly the right temperature, with some kind of expensive bath oil that makes my skin feel silky and fills the air with a scent that's both calming and oddly familiar.

Lavender and something that makes me think of rain, speed, and ? —

A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts, and I sink even further into the protective cover of bubbles as Lachlan's voice carries through the wood.

"You forgot your clothes and towels," he says, and I can hear the amusement in his tone.

I blush, grateful he can't see me.

"That wouldn't have been a big deal. I could have figured something out."

The door opens slightly, and he peers around it with a smirk that should be illegal.

"I don't mind you walking naked through our house, but I'm already on my last limbs here, and I wouldn't be able to ignore my instincts to that extent."

The word 'our' hits hard, but I don't have time to process it before the implication of the rest of his statement sinks in. My entire body flushes with heat that has nothing to do with the bath water.

"You're an ass," I tell him, sinking so low that the bubbles threaten to cover my nose. "A presumptuous, arrogant ass."

His smirk widens as he steps fully into the bathroom, setting the stack of clothing and towels on the counter with movements that are far too casual for the electricity crackling between us.

"I'm also right. And before you start throwing bath products at me, remember that I've seen everything already."

"Oh my god," I groan, covering my face with my hands. "Can we please not talk about things I can't remember? It's bad enough that I apparently have detailed opinions about your sexual prowess compared to your brother's without adding visual memories I can't access to the mix."

He chuckles, the sound low and rich and far too appealing.

"Wren has a big mouth."

"Wren has no filter," I correct, peering at him through my fingers. "Which is usually entertaining except when she's revealing my apparent sexcapades to the very person?—"

My phone rings again, the shrill tone cutting through whatever incredibly embarrassing thing I was about to say.

I groan, looking at where it sits well out of reach on the far side of the bathroom floor.

"I can't reach it," I admit reluctantly.

Without hesitation, Lachlan walks over and picks it up, glancing at the screen.

"It's Wren. Speaking of no filter."

"Oh god," I mutter. "Just answer it and put it on speaker. Maybe she has updates on the parent situation."

He does as requested, setting the phone on the side of the tub where I can hear but not accidentally knock it into the water. Wren's voice fills the bathroom immediately.

"Crisis averted, or do I need to start working on that AI simulation?"

"Crisis averted for now," I confirm, trying to ignore how intimate it feels to have Lachlan casually handling my phone while I'm naked in his bathtub.

"I told them I'd be back for brunch tomorrow and reminded them that your bike is at their place since you came to pick me up and we drove using my car. "

"I figured that would be the excuse," Wren says smugly.

"So I already texted them about how I was worried about you too and was so glad they're such caring parents.

Really laid it on thick. They're now convinced you have such amazing girlfriends looking out for you, so you owe us drinks.

Top shelf stuff, not that bottom-barrel shit you tried to pass off last time. "

I sigh in relief, feeling some of the tension drain from my shoulders.

"I certainly do owe you. Thank you for covering. I don't know what I'd do without you and Rory."

"Probably die in a ditch somewhere," Wren says cheerfully.

"Or end up married to some boring Alpha who thinks Pilates is a personality trait.

Speaking of which, remember—no fucking the shining four-consecutive-wins champion.

I don't care how good he looks in racing suits or how his ass probably looks fantastic in?—"

"WREN!" I shriek, my entire face bursting into flames. "You're on speaker! Again! What is wrong with you?"

Her laugh is entirely unrepentant.

"I know. I'm talking to both of you. So you heard me, Lachlan—tame your cock. I know exactly what you Formula One types are like. All that adrenaline and competition makes you think every interaction is a race to the finish line."

Lachlan huffs, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that makes his biceps flex distractingly.

"Whatever," he mutters, but there's a slight flush on his cheeks that suggests Wren's words hit closer to home than he wants to admit.

"See?" Wren continues, clearly enjoying herself. "Stubborn Alphas. They get all mad when you cockblock them, like their dicks are gonna fall off if they don't get laid every five minutes."

"We can still hear you," I remind her weakly, though I'm fighting not to laugh at Lachlan's increasingly grumpy expression.