My crew stood around the table, ready to help. We knew our way around a first aid kit, but as Taz knelt in front of Race, I could see that wild horses weren’t going to pull her away from him. Her mouth set in a determined line as she began to clean up his wounds.

Cross pulled out a chair close to Race and sat. “You going to live?”

Race started laughing, but the movement caused him pain, and he moaned. He cursed, shaking his head. “Goddamn Alex.” He sighed. “Yeah, I’ll live.”

Jordan and Zellman sat at the table. I was content to rest against the wall. Tabatha and Sunday and a couple other girls were standing around in the kitchen, there if Taz needed something. Some of the athlete guys lingered too, but no one said much of anything.

This was the aftermath of a crew fight—whether it had started as that or not. This was the time when we regrouped. We talked. We had our debriefing, sorting out the hows, whys, and what would happen next.

These meetings always tired me out. The goal was to protect ourselves against future threats, and that usually meant more fighting.

But these guys—the Normals in our world—did not seem tired. Awe, fear, and curiosity all mixed together in their eyes. They were hungry for more. Those of us around the table ignored them.

“You want to clue us in on what that fight was about?” Cross asked.

Race cringed.

Taz looked up. “Sorry.” She went right back to cleaning.

Race let out a harsh laugh, hissing. “I might have a broken rib, Taz.”

“I know.” She didn’t stop working though. “But you have a gushing cut here. I need to clean it up before we go to the hospital.”

We all cringed at the mention of a hospital.

Hospitals meant questions, and those questions sometimes meant cops. No thanks.

I looked around. None of the people in the kitchen seemed concerned about going to the hospital. They didn’t have reason. They weren’t considered troubled.

My stomach rolled over.

I didn’t want to be here. There were too many people, too many opinions, too many questions, too many of everything. I could feel the pressure pushing down on me.

The room was starting to suffocate me.

I slipped out, trying to go quietly. I didn’t want the others to worry, but I had to exit. Once I stepped outside, I breathed in the night air and almost right away, it settled my stomach. I was moving toward the pool when I heard Cross’ voice behind me.

“You want to talk now?”

I startled. I hadn’t realized he followed me. I turned to find his face half in shadows.

I opened my mouth, about to answer, but then I just looked at him. I really looked at him. Like I had in my bedroom, I felt another veil falling from my eyes. He had stepped into a role he hadn’t wanted until now, but I knew it was in him.

He was a leader.

He was just what everyone said he was. He was better than all of us.

And he was so goddamn gorgeous.

I reached up, touching his chin. “Why did it take me so long to accept this?”

He reached for me. “Because my good looks blinded you.” He leaned forward, nuzzling my neck. He feathered kisses there, sending tingles through my body.

“You’re only human,” he added, his hand skimming up my back. “You couldn’t see around the sun glare.”

I barked out a laugh, which ended on a whimper as his lips continued to explore under my jaw, then down my throat.

I felt my legs actually weaken, and I reached for him—to steady myself and just to touch him.

His arm curved around my back, but then he pulled away. “Not here.” His hand grabbed mine. “Come on.”

Without a word, I followed him.

Without a word, I would’ve followed him anywhere.

He took me around the side of his house. Hopped up on their front porch deck, onto a small bannister outside the second floor, and finally through his bedroom window. I was almost moving with him, just a step behind. I knew this route like the back of my hand, having climbed in so many nights when his parents were still up and on the main level.

Moving silently and stealthily, he crossed to shut his door, flicking the lock.

I shut the window, and then it was just the two of us.

He wasted no time. An absolute look of need on his face, his hands tangled in my hair and his mouth came to mine.

I don’t know if it was the image of thirty crew against one, or knowing that everyone in my crew knew my secret now, but I felt small. I needed to be reaffirmed of him, of us, of this between us, or maybe I just didn’t want to feel small anymore.

Maybe I didn’t want to feel like that could’ve been one of us. One against thirty. That’s what happened in this town and this world—we survived. Either way, he was pushing everything away inside me, replacing it with good.

“Cross,” I breathed, my fingers curling around his jeans waistband.

He sucked in his breath.

I leaned my head back, and his mouth moved to my throat.

I was throbbing for him, and as he pressed into me, I raised a leg. I hooked it around him and used it to bring him more snugly against me. He moved me back, pressing me against the wall and began to move, grinding into me.

I bit back another moan.

This guy—threading my fingers through his hair, I turned my head and his lips found mine. God. This guy.

Why had it taken me so long? Cross had his joke ready, but the question plagued me. Something had blocked me, something about me. It wasn’t Cross.

His hand caught the back of my neck, and he held me, his lips moving over mine, making me shiver with need. But there was a nagging voice in the back of my mind. She wasn’t talking—not yet—but I felt her. She wanted to say something, but I couldn’t hear it. Or I didn’t want to. Maybe I was scared to. There was something in me, like I was holding myself back…

As Cross’ hand swept under my shirt and moved to my breast, I stopped trying to figure it out. Whatever it had been, my eyes were open now, and holy fuck, there was no going back.

“Hmm?” Cross pulled away, his eyes finding mine.

“Nothing.” I pulled him close, fusing my lips to his.

I never wanted him to be away. Ever. It felt wrong.

“This feels too good.” He lifted his head.

I wanted to stop him, but I didn’t.

“Yeah?” I asked, panting a bit.

He nodded, his eyes darkening. He moved in for a kiss, and I surged up against him, meeting him.

It was a long while before he lifted his head again. His eyes were glazed, his face a little red, but I could feel the real evidence straining between my legs. If I reached down, if I unzipped my jeans, pulled my underwear aside… He’d be inside me in two seconds. One push, and we’d be one.

I bit my lip, trying to remember why that was a bad idea.

We heard Jordan call from below. “Anyone know where they went?”

We stilled. He was yelling, a full roar, so the crowd was loud beneath us.

A moment later, we heard the footsteps coming up.

A pause.

More footsteps, coming to his room.

I held my breath, feeling my pulse pounding in my ears, but Cross didn’t move away. His arms didn’t loosen, and neither did mine.

The footsteps stopped outside the door. “Dude!” Jordan pounded on it. “You guys in there?”

Cross stifled a curse, one hand anchored behind my neck, and he lifted his head toward the door. “We’re talking.”

“You serious?”

“Yeah. Go away.”

I pressed my mouth into Cross’ neck. He ran a hand down my back.

“A crew talk?” Jordan’s voice sounded strained.

“A Bren talk.” Cross’ grin was wicked, looking down at me.

I shook my head, unable to keep from grinning back, and pressed a fist to his chest. He grabbed it, flattening my hand against his chest instead.

I sucked in some air. His heart was going just as fast as mine.

“Well. Okay. We’re all taking off.”

“We’ll catch up with you later.”

“Bren?”

Shit. I had to talk.

I tried smoothing out my voice so it came out normal. “Yeah?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I, uh…”

Cross put his lips to my ear, whispering, “What you said at Manny’s, about your dad.” Then he began nibbling.

I almost melted, my knees jerking.