“Hold on.” I fix myself and zip up my pants. She squeals in surprise when I pick her up in my arms and walk back down to the main level of the clubhouse. I don’t say anything to anyone. Instead, I just bring her to the room and put her on my bed.
“I can get used to this,” Beretta mutters as I strip her again.
“You should because I’m going to spoil you as often as I can. You hungry?”
“Ooo, bring some snacks. Are you going to go back to the party?” she asks.
“For what? Everything I want is right here.”
When she sighs and smiles wide at me, I feel it down to my heart. I just wish things could stay like this. I wish this was our actual reality, and I wonder when her memories come back if she’s going to leave. I wouldn’t blame her if she did.
CHAPTERTEN
Beretta
My body aches wonderfully as I stretch my arms over my shoulders. Muffler made sure to stay up with me as long as I wanted. Then when I was ready to go to bed, he rocked my body hard and deep until I’d come so many times, I had no choice but to fall into a sleep-induced coma.
When I look over in the bed, he has his face buried in the pillow and one arm draped around my waist. He’s worn out. I giggle at the way his mouth is still wide open, and a little bit of drool is pooled up on the pillow.
“He needs his rest,” I say to myself. Just as the words leave my lips, my stomach grumbles, and I realize that just because he’s still asleep doesn’t mean my body’s going to go along with that programming. I’m starving. I slide out from under his arm and throw on one of his t-shirts and a pair of basketball shorts before I make my way downstairs to the kitchen. There are a few people walking around, but for the most part, everyone looks like the walking dead in here. That party must have really taken everything out of everyone. It’s fun to be back here when all this is going on. I feel like I’ve missed out on so much, and I don’t really know why. It’s only been a little while since I’ve been in the coma, but last night was the first time I’ve seen people in their relaxed state. It always feels like everyone is holding back when it comes to me.
I get to the kitchen and take out everything I need to make some flapjacks. It should be easy to get this done and get back to Muffler before he wakes up.
I get into the zone, and the second I finish the first batch, Chuckles comes in.
“Oh my god. Those smell so good. I need some. I’m going to die.” He swipes the first batch, and I set out to make some more. I laugh at his exaggeration.
Three batches later, and I’m no longer laughing. I’m already more aggravated than I should be. Everyone who’s awake keeps coming in and stealing the pancakes. They’re in their mouths before I can even tell them no.
“Beretta?” Muffler says from the doorway, and I startle when I hear his voice.
So much for finishing up before he woke up.
“Hey,” I say, the attitude clear in my tone.
“Everything all right?” he asks, moving in closer and wrapping his arm back around my waist.
“Yeah, your brothers are savages who act like they’ve never seen food before in their lives. I’ve made at least four batches. They keep eating them,” I complain, but Muffler just laughs.
“You know these guys don’t have any home training,” he says, and I scoff in agreement.
“I’m hungry.” I pout, and he reaches over and turns the fire off on the pan.
“Come on, let’s get dressed. If you keep cooking, they’re going to keep eating it.
“That sounds like a good plan.”
Hoodrat comes into the kitchen expectant. “Hey, where’s mine?”
“Sorry, brother, the kitchen’s closed,” Muffler says, and I laugh at the look of defeat that’s on Hoodrat’s face.
Hilarious, all of them.
* * *
We get to the diner down the street, and I have a batch of pancakes in front of my face faster than I could’ve ever made them.
“Muffler, I have to ask you a question.” I put my fork down, and he does the same, but the color on his face drains away.