His mouth curved into that lopsided smile I loved. “You happy enough to stick around?”
“Totally.”
He kissed me, savoured me, until I melted into him. Tapping my ass, he said, “Come on.” He led me to the living area, where we settled on the sofa. “Here.” He grabbed my Kindle from the table and handed it to me. “I’m going to watch the game. You’re going to stay with me and just relax.”
So—tired and eager to read a book that had recently been released—that was what I did. Until I received a text message from Fletcher. I gasped. “Ryder’s awake.”
Butch’s eyes shot to me. “About fucking time.”
I jabbed him with my elbow. “It wasn’t Ryder’s fault he was in a freaking coma. According to Fletcher, he’s a little weak right now but he’ll be fine by tomorrow.”
“At which point he’ll mind-swipe Marco, Tait, and Juliet and tell us who the fuck hurt you.”
That was the hope. “I think—” I paused as a knock came at the door.
Sighing, Butch headed straight for it and swung it open, revealing David, Max, Salem, and Chico.
“Hey.” David smiled as they walked in, like it was their regular hangout. When Butch just looked at them blankly, David added, “It’s your turn to be host.”
“You forgot,” guessed Chico, pulling out his cell phone. “No worries. I’ll order pizza.”
“Don’t forget chicken wings, potato wedges, and onion rings,” said Max.
Soon enough, my living area was packed with Butch’s squad members. I ended up sitting on his lap to make room on the sofa. Others settled on the floor or hauled in the breakfast bar stools. As I watched them interact, I quickly realised that this was a guy apology of sorts. It was a shit one, in my opinion, but I supposed if one alpha had trouble apologising, a whole bunch of them at one time were bound to be shit at it.
I drowned out all the noise, concentrating on my book. Though I did pause to eat two slices of pizza and a few onion rings.
Once the game was over, David—who was sitting beside me and Butch—gave my leg a little shove. “How’ve you been, Imani?”
I smiled. “Good. I’d feel a whole lot better if everyone here who’d been utter dicks to Butch would actually make a real apology. This version of one is totally crap and it ain’t gonna fly with me.”
David’s mouth twitched into a smile while Salem grunted, seemingly in agreement. The others all looked at each other, rolling back their shoulders and cricking their neck.
Chico cleared his throat. “Imani’s right, Butch. We were dicks.”
I waved my hand, encouraging him to continue because, yeah, that wasn’t good enough.
“We should have had your back but we didn’t,” added Chico.
“And you’re sorry,” I prompted.
A muscle in Chico’s cheek ticked. “And we’re sorry.”
Half-placated, I looked at the others with an expectant brow. “You’re going to make Chico do all the work?”
Reuben straightened. “I was out of line, asking you to leave the arena. Totally out of line. I won’t insult you by trying to make excuses. All I can say is that I swear I’ll always have your back in the future.”
“We took our protectiveness of the girls a little too far,” Harvey admitted. At my snort, he added, “Way too far. That’s not an excuse, though, I know.”
Denny nodded. “Judging you like that wasn’t fair, and it won’t happen again.”
The image of self-recrimination, Damien spoke. “I was a total ass, and I had no right to say the shit I said.”
“I won’t lie and say I think my concerns were unfounded,” said Stuart. “They weren’t. But it still wasn’t my place to voice any of them. And I truly am sorry for not giving you the benefit of the doubt.”
“We won’t blame you if words aren’t enough for you,” said Max. “We’ve got to show you we mean it, and we will.”
I looked up at Butch, who surprisingly seemed to be stifling an amused smile. “What do you think? Shall we give them the benefit of the doubt, even though they didn’t do the same for you?”
His amused smile broke free. “I guess we could.”
“Yeah. They’re not too bad at grovelling, are they?”
Affronted, Max objected, “We don’t grovel.”
David snorted. “It was impressive. Maybe not as impressive as Imani’s behaviour in the arena, though.”
Oh, how males moved on from emotional moments so quickly.
“I gotta say, Imani,” began Damien with a grin, “when you called Sam’s blood, I was totally envious. That would be a cool ability.”
“I thought you might lose your gift,” said Stuart, swirling his NST. “I wasn’t expecting you to develop another.”
“I don’t think I did develop another,” I told him.
Chico frowned. “We all saw what you did.”
“But it’s not a gift. It’s just…something weird.” Something I didn’t like.
Harvey smiled. “Whatever it is, it’s awesome.”
“How did you do it?” asked Denny, fascinated. “How did you call the blood?”
“I didn’t mean to. When Sam started to bleed, I recognised the scent, and suddenly the taste was in my mouth…like a sensory memory.”
Butch curled my hair around his fist. “You fed from her during the transition.”
Well that explained it. “I couldn’t stop looking at the blood. But I didn’t have an urge to leap on her.”
Reuben bit into his pizza. “Why do you think you can suddenly do it?”
I shrugged one shoulder. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
Butch gave my hair a playful tug. “Lena said the serum could cause side effects. Maybe this is a side effect.”
Chico put down his beer-flavoured NST. “See if you can do it now.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I’ll cut my arm. You call the blood.”
I jerked back. “Hell, no! I don’t want to call people’s blood to me.”
“But you will, Imani; you might not mean to do it, but you will.” Butch’s voice was gentle. “And you’ll keep doing it unless you learn to control it. So start learning.”