Glitch (Next Level #1)(36)

She flashes a big smile. “Egg rolls?”

“And spring rolls, edamame, wonton soup, egg drop soup, orange chicken, lo Mein, Buddha’s delight, and beef with broccoli.” I frown, because now I’m not sure it’s enough. “I have frozen mochi for later. And… shit, I left the duck sauce in the kitchen.”

“I love you,” she says around a mouthful of egg roll. “And I’m not saying that because you’ve fucked me into the next stratosphere or are feeding me. I mean it, Glitch. I love you.”

Ara said it in the tub earlier, but that was her subspace brain talking and I didn’t know how to respond. But she’s with it now and all I can say back is, “I love you too.” I crawl across the mattress to kiss her. “I’ve loved you for a long fucking time.” Maybe it won’t make sense to anyone else, but it makes sense to us and that’s all I care about.

I pull back and flash her a big smile. “I’ll be back with more food. And drinks.”

She lifts the tray. “Or we can take this out there.”

“You sure? I’d rather feed you in bed.”

“I’d rather not worry about getting duck sauce on your sheets. Or grease.”

I don’t care about that, but who am I to tell her where to eat? I can feed her at the table, on the floor, in the tub, and anywhere else she gets hungry. “Okay, hang on.”

I grab the tray and balance it in one hand, then help her stand with the other. I want to carry her, but Ara would likely reject the idea. She’s too independent to be doted on for long. “Can you walk?”

“Yes, big dicked unicorn demon, I’m fine.” But when she takes a step and stumbles, I’m there to catch her. “Okay, maybe I’m a little sore.”

Damnit. I drop the tray back on the bed and use both hands to scoop her up and carry her out to the dining room area. I’m pissed at myself for fucking her so hard. And I’m doubly pissed at myself because I plan to do it again.

“I’m okay, Glitch. Really. Seriously, I’m just a little sore.”

“Which makes me want to rip my dick off and beat myself with it.”

“You’d likely give yourself a concussion. Have you seen the size of your cock?”

She’s making light of this? I gently place her down. “I’m really sorry I hurt you.”

“Sean.”

I freeze at the sound of my name.

“Look at me.”

I’m looking.

“I’m fine.” Ara gives me this look that has me feeling some kind of way. “I’m seriously fine. And if you don’t stop doting on me, I’m never fucking you again. Me and the treasure between my thighs will walk right out that door, never to be—”

I shut her up by stuffing my thumb in her mouth. She doesn’t bite it. She licks and sucks it. “Did you just threaten me, Kitty?” I pop my thumb out from between her lips.

“Maybe.” She bats her lashes at me.

“One.”

She flips me the bird and leans back in her chair. “Two.” She flips me the bird with her other finger. “Ohhh three.”

“Marry me after we eat.” I’m only half -joking.

“Okay. But first, I want to meet your sister.”

I swear she’s only half joking, too. I grab my cell out of my pocket and punch in Erin’s number. “Hey, you busy later?”

Ara’s eyes grow huge. “It’s in the middle of the night!” she whisper-yells at me.

Doesn’t matter. Erin is like me—a night owl. “Awesome. I’m swinging by with Ara for dinner. Yeah, six works.”

Ara cups her mouth.

I hang up. “Erin says she’s making tacos. Dinner’s served at six.”

My girl’s cheeks burn red. “You’re really gonna let me meet your sister?”

Fuck yeah, I am. Why wouldn’t I? “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Ara. Of course, you’re meeting her. And my nephew, Beetle.”

“But… this soon?” She looks terrified. “We’re moving fast.”

“Are we though?” I tip my head and squint at her. “Really, Ara?”

She blows out a big exhale. “I guess not.” My Kitty starts finger-combing her hair. “What if she doesn’t like me?”

“What’s not to like?”

“I need to shower and change.”

“Shower’s there, and my clothes are in the spare bedroom closet.”

“Glitch!”

“What?”

We stare at each other, holding out for the other to bend and see reason. It won’t be me. I’m shamelessly unreasonable when it comes to Ara.

“Fine, I’ll take you home so you can change. But I’m totally down for you wearing my clothes. In fact, I’d go a little feral to see you in my sweatpants and t-shirt.” I stalk off to grab our food and bring it to the table.

We open all the containers and joke around before she starts asking questions. “So, Erin…”

“Here’s our life in a nutshell: Our parents died when I was fifteen. Erin was eighteen. She got legal custody of me and raised me on her own. By the time I graduated high school, she’d gotten pregnant by a jackass who didn’t stick around, and she raised Beetle on her own too. His name’s really Brendan, but when he was a baby, he’d lay on his back and kick his arms and feet out, which made him look like a beetle on his back. The nickname stuck.”