Page 61 of Oathbreaker

“Earth to Briar,” I hear and jerk.

Realize I’ve been staring into my wineglass like it holds the key to the universe, tracing the bottom of it—around and around the circle of glass.

“Sorry,” I say, deliberately shoving Colt and all the complications he brings me out of my mind. “I was thinking about how many rolls of plastic wrap it would take to cover Magnus’s car.”

His mouth tips up. “Scuttlebutt says it was only five.”

“Five?” I pick up my glass, take a sip. “I was thinking it would be more like thirty.”

“Apparently those rolls go a long way.”

I grin at him. “Good to know.”

“Planning something?”

“You never know when you might need to plastic wrap a car.”

“Don’t forget the Vaseline?”

I pause, wineglass poised on my lips. “Um, excuse me?”

He chuckles. “They put Vaseline all over his windshield, baby. Apparently, it was a pain in the ass to clean off. So,” he reaches across the table, laces his fingers with mine, “if you’re planning teenage-esque antics, make sure to add Vaseline to the shopping list.”

“Another thing that’s good to know.”

He winks at me then lifts the bottle from the table, takes my glass, and tops it off.

We’ve finished eating, a delicious meal of Caesar salad (West) and minestrone soup (me), pasta for our mains (fettuccini alfredo for me and pesto for him) with loads of homemade focaccia, and tiramisu for both of us for dessert.

I’m stuffed.

I’m slightly buzzed.

West insisted on paying even though, like always, I’ve offered to treat him—or at least pay my fair share.

And, like always, he wouldn’t hear of that.

So, like always, I gave in.

“I missed you,” I whisper.

He stills for a heartbeat then sets the empty bottle down and looks over at me. “You’ve had an eventful couple of weeks.”

I squeeze his hand. “I’m not the only one. The road trip, home games and all those extra practices…”

“Yeah,” he agrees and then his face goes gentle in a way that has my heart squeezing. “And I missed you too, baby.” He picks up my glass, passes it to me. “But now we’re back here. Together. So, tell me what drama is happening at work while we finish our wine.”

The drama this week is far less old flames reappearing from the dead, and more…

Contract negotiations and meeting after meeting after meeting.

But at least that means I manage to come up with a funny story about Atlas scooting in late to one of those meetings.

With bright red lipstick on his collar.

“Being with Lily agrees with him,” West says.

“You’re not wrong.”