Page 78 of Pack of Crooks

The taste of strawberries lingers on the back of my tongue, but it’s not enough. It never is. That truth is staggering as I drop into the seat beside Hazel on the subway. She sucks in a surprised breath, sky blue eyes finding mine and widening. Today, when I long for it the most, her scent surrounds me. I’d happily die smothered by her sweet perfume.

“You scared me,” she says, shaking her head.

“Sorry.” I’m not. I kind of like the way her chest is heaving on top. The navy blue V-neck makes my omega look good enough to eat. I tap my finger on my thigh four times to keep from slamming my mouth into hers.

Hazel’s gaze moves to my finger.

I curl my fingers in, hiding the twitch.

“I got you something.”

My omega got me a gift?

She reaches into her bag and pulls out a spinning fidget.

My eyebrows raise. “A toy?”

She sighs, grabs my wrist, and turns my hand over. “Try it.” She shoves it into my palm.

I’ve tried plenty. They always do too many rotations and stress me out more. Giving her a skeptical look, I hold the fidget and spin it, watching as it completes four perfect rotations before coming to a complete stop. I test it again. One, two, three, four. I clutch the fidget in my hand.

“There were a few different ones that I saw it in the store, but they either spun uncontrollably or did two or three rotations. That one did four. . . I thought you would like it,” she murmurs. “You don’t have to use it.”

Turning, I search her face as the subway rocks back and forth. There’s no judgment in her gaze. Once most people notice my strange habits, they pretend they don’t exist. “I’ll use it.”

A pause, a smile that turns into pure sunshine.

My entire body warms and I reach for her without thinking, cupping the side of her face and bringing it toward mine. Our lips meet, and I trace the seam of her mouth with my tongue. She sighs and opens for me. I taste her for the first time, groaning and deepening the kiss. Hazel is all sweetness with soft, addicting lips. She doesn’t just taste like strawberries, she tastes like home. Like warmth and comfort.

Someone clears their throat.

Hazel breaks the kiss with a gasp, pulling back enough to study me with hooded eyes. “I think you guys are trying to drive me crazy.”

“Is it working?” I ask, brushing my thumb along her lower lip.

“Yes,” she confesses with a laugh, then her face falls. “I’m sorry about the safe.”

The text she had sent us after she discovered Tristan either got rid of the evidence or moved it definitely put a wrench in our plans, but it’s not her fault. “Don’t be. We’ll figure something out.”

“You’re so confident.”

I smirk, drop my arm around her shoulder and pull her into my side. “Tell me four truths.”

She side-eyes me. “And are you going to share four of your own?”

“If we have time.” I glance at the display which shows the next stop.

“Okay, um. I hate sleeping on a couch but I’d do anything for my sister. I’m better at pickpocketing on the left side than I am on the right. I hated the Notebook. . . and. . .” She pauses, eyebrows pinching together. “I wonder if Lottie would have a better life with people who are better suited to take care of her.”

“She wouldn’t.”

Hazel looks at me. “How do you know?”

“Because, you love her. They wouldn’t. You’re her older sister, and you’ve obviously gone out of your way to make sure she can have as close to a normal life as possible, even when you have to sacrifice your own comforts.” That last bit irks me, but she has my pack now. Well, she will if she accepts our offer.

Which reminds me.

“Can you come to the hub Friday night? We’re calling a special meeting.”