“Sassy, Yates, especially for someone who just…” I let my words trail off as he offered me a dangerous narrowed glance, daring me to continue.
“Who just what?” Stratton asked, amused.
“Oh, nothing.” I continued to run my hands through King’s hair as he chuckled. I knew he and Dermot would protect me. Hopefully.
Yates stood and walked across the room, leaning over the bed as I squeaked, sinking against the pillows. “What, Dahlia? What did I do?”
Admitted to loving me.
Stalked me.
And then fucked me in your little stalker cave.
“Help!” I used my spare hand to tap Dermot’s chest and he chuckled, pulling me by the hips and out from under King, who made a disgruntled noise. I curled against Dermot’s chest and smiled at Yates.
“I’m waiting, bunny,” he stated, unperturbed.
“Dahlia,” Dermot warned.
I smiled against his chest. “Someone who just told me they loved me.”
“That wasn’t what you were going to say,” Yates immediately snapped back.
I laughed because he was right, but if you think I was about to get myself in that much trouble in a room of all of them, you were sorely mistaken.
Before I could poke fun at him, our banter clearly and unfortunately not leading in the sexy direction despite earlier, Yates’s phone pinged with a notification. He eyed it and then looked at King. “Jet will be ready tomorrow, we are set to leave around three.”
“You mean the afternoon, right?” I demanded, my eyes widening. “Please say you mean the afternoon.”
His smile grew as he chuckled. “Unfortunately not, bunny.”
“Don’t worry, we can take a nap once we are on,” Lincoln said, his face nonchalant and not matching the heated look he pointed in my direction. Right, a nap… sure. Somehow I just did not believe he meant that.
“Fine.” I scowled and rolled off Dermot, my face flushing as I felt just how hard he was, a low groan escaping his throat. I walked towards my closet and immediately began pulling out what I wanted to wear.
“Wear a hoodie.” Stratton was right behind me, the voices of the others in the room giving us a moment of privacy as I looked up at him.
“A hoodie?” I asked, half amused by the serious look on his face.
“And anything else you have to cover up,” he grumbled and then wrapped an arm around my waist. “I hate that you’re going to be around any of these fuckers.”
“I’m there to support you,” I defended softly.
His eyes warmed as he nodded and then nipped my ear in his warning to wear a hoodie. I didn’t mind—after what I experienced last time, I was happy to wear comfortable, dark clothes that wouldn’t get me noticed. I shouldn’t have to worry about that. Heck, no woman should. But after everything that happened today, I was ready to bury myself under layers of clothes and blankets to keep myself comfortable.
I was just waiting for it to hit. The moment where all of this became too much.
Because I wasn’t dumb. I knew how my anxiety worked, and I had a feeling that the moment of reckoning was coming, waves of desperation that would berate me. I was trying so hard to keep the other demons at bay, the ones that relished in my suffering.
I wasn’t positive how long it would work for, and that terrified me.
Trying to remove those thoughts from my head, I began getting ready, the process not taking very long considering I was just braiding my hair and applying some light makeup. The others, with the exception of Dermot and Stratton, each said goodbye before heading downstairs to go to the meeting with Callum.
Almost instantly I was missing them, their absence removing some of the warmth from me. Then the sound of Stratton and Dermot’s quiet conversation from inside my bedroom soothed me. I never realized how lonely my space was without them constantly in it. Now that I had that—had them—I wasn’t positive I could return back to that other state.
“Angel.” Stratton’s voice was soft and commanding as I looked to the door, finding him looking over me with a heat that didn’t match the oversized hoodie and leggings I’d chosen. I would probably be hot, but that was okay.
“Like it?” I turned, showing off the hoodie I’d stolen from him some time ago.