Wild Hunger (The Phoenix Pack, #7)(32)

It would be fair to say he’d tricked her into going on the date, but only because he’d known that she wouldn’t fuss about it. One thing he really liked about Frankie was that there were no games. No playing hard to get. No acting like she was there under protest. No lies or bullshit. No playing it cool. It was fucking refreshing, and it made her easy to be around.

She was complex in that she had lots of facets—all of which fascinated him—but she was otherwise straightforward and uncomplicated. He loved that. Loved that he could trust her to say what she truly thought and felt, that he didn’t have to waste time reading between the lines.

He was snapped out of his musings as a kid playing on a token machine whooped with joy. Trick slipped his free arm around Frankie’s waist, holding her to him even as they stepped forward with the slow-moving queue. That was another thing he loved: he knew it was strange for her to have someone she barely knew touching her so often, but she didn’t pull away. She let herself relax with him, even though she had to be confused about just why it was so easy for her.

“You should stop nuzzling and nipping my neck,” said Frankie.

“Why?”

Quietly she replied, “Because it’s making you hard, and it’s making me all flustered.” Frankie felt his lips curve against her neck.

“I know. I can smell that you’re wet.”

And she could feel that he was hard. Considering his body was practically folded around hers, Frankie figured she probably should have felt a little claustrophobic. But she didn’t. She felt safe. Protected. Cosseted, even. Her wolf liked having him so close, liked the possessiveness in his touch.

He didn’t release her until, finally, they arrived at the counter. As the cashier rang up their order, Frankie grabbed straws and napkins from the dispensers. Just as they were walking away with their popcorn and sodas in hand, Frankie spotted none other than Vance and Layla heading toward the concession lines. And sadly, they spotted her. Well, hell.

She’d bumped into them once shortly after she and Vance broke up. Layla had clung to him, sending her smug looks. He’d been civil yet stiff toward Frankie, eager to get away. The next day he’d called Frankie to apologize for being unfriendly, explained that he just hadn’t wanted to “set Layla off.”

Today, well, Layla was too busy staring at Trick to care about sending superior looks at Frankie. And her wolf did not like the female appreciation in Layla’s eyes whatsoever. Vance’s gaze, hard and unreadable, danced from Trick to Frankie.

It was Trick who broke the awkward silence. “There a problem here?”

Layla almost jolted. “No, not at all. Frankie’s decided to be rude, so I’ll introduce us. I’m Layla, and this is Vance. We’re . . . distant friends of Frankie’s.”

Unconvinced, Trick drawled, “Right.” He could sense his mate’s discomfort, just as he could sense that there had once been something between her and Vance. It was clear to see in the way the human male looked at her with an intimate familiarity—something that pissed Trick the fuck off. It was also clear by Vance’s pinched expression and tight muscles that he didn’t like seeing Frankie with another male. Tough fucking shit.

Anger flashed through his wolf, who urged Trick to rake his claws down the human’s chest and warn him away from his mate. It was an idea he’d consider.

Layla’s eyes narrowed a little. “I know you.”

Trick tensed. “No, you don’t.” And he was done here. He arched a brow at Frankie. “Ready, baby?”

Layla clicked her fingers. “Wait, you’re the shifter from that YouTube video—you helped that girl. It was so sweet and brave of you to intervene like that.” Her eyes cut to Frankie. “Well, it’s good to see you’re moving on.”

Frankie almost snorted. Yeah? Layla didn’t really seem happy for her at all. Her eyes had been all dreamy and covetous when they’d stared at Trick. Once they sliced to Frankie, they’d darkened in envy and resentment. Layla had loved the idea that she had the guy Frankie wanted, loved that she’d “won.” Seeing Frankie with a male who was a billion times hotter than Vance apparently ticked her off. Good.

“Your grandparents didn’t mention that you were dating someone,” Vance said to Frankie, his voice flat. “I’m guessing they don’t know about him.”

“Not liking how close you’re standing to Frankie,” said Trick, glaring hard at him.

Vance’s brows snapped together and he blinked, as if he only then realized that he’d taken a step toward her. He backed up and moved aside to let them pass, pulling an irritated Layla out of the way.

Trick turned to Frankie. “Let’s go, baby.” As they strode off, Trick raised a brow. “So that asshole’s an ex of yours?”

Frankie sighed. “Sadly, yes. Layla was his ex. He ran back to her, but she hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you. He’s pissed that you’re with me. I’m thinking he’ll make it his business to be sure your grandparents know that you were on a date with a shifter.”

“I wish I could disagree with you.”

“Well, we’re not going to think about them,” Trick declared. “We’re going to watch this movie, enjoy it, and stuff our faces with popcorn.”

Frankie’s mouth curved. “Your plan has merit.”