Page 35 of Puck My Life

He advances towards me even as Mal eases back. I find myself surrounded by the three of them. I’m not afraid, but I’m very aware of the tension and the dangerous edge that it has.

“A kiss.”

My eyes widen. “What?”

“If you want me to come to the shops and play this game with you, then I want a kiss. A proper one.”

Mal’s hand tightens on my waist.

“Deacon, you have a girlfriend-”

“Actually, I don’t. She dumped me last night, so,” he ducks his head down to my level, “you’re free to kiss me without threat. If you’re brave enough, Hook.”

I snarl.

He grins back, reaching out a hand to brush his thumb over my bottom lip. “I’ve dreamed about this. So, what’s it going to be?”

Being kissed will make it all worse, but I need to get them to do this. Their careers are on the line. What did he mean he’s dreamed about it?

I lunge forward, sealing my lips to his before he can change his mind.

Big mistake.

The hugest mistake.

The second his lips move against mine, I know that I’ve destroyed any chance of ever finding happiness outside this pack. All the years, all our fights, happymoments, the sad, all of it comes down to this one moment, and I know he is my endgame.

Why haven’t we done this before?

I lose myself in the kiss, the way he leisurely takes control, teasing and drawing it out until I’m clinging to him, and I’ve forgotten everything but him. My Deacon, my Lost Boy.

Mine.

I rip my mouth from his and step back, straight into Mal, who pulls me into his arms.

Deacon is staring at me with what looks like a hint of surprise in his eyes, but the rest of his expression confuses me and makes me want to run and hide.

He looks hungry, like a wild wolf.

“Okay, so let’s go shopping.”

Deacon shrugs. “Sure, a deal’s a deal.”

***?

I close my eyes and lean on the trolley. I should have worded that deal better. Deacon did come shopping, but he’s acting like he’s three years old.

He’s grabbing everything in sight, has filled up two and a half trolleys, and opened four bags of chips just to try them.

This is a game. I know he’s doing it just to drive me nuts.

I need to think about how to beat him.

Raynor is clearly bored and is just ambling along behind me, but Mal is actively throwing stuff from the trolley, and he’s pushing it back onto shelves with muttered snarls directed at Deacon.

“The carrot or the stick,” I mutter. I side-eye Raynor and whistle at Mal. “Do you two want to help me teach Deacon a lesson?”

Raynor cocks his head to the side. “What do you have in mind?”