Ryker is next, sitting next to Jaxon, his movements sharp and restless. He taps his fingers against the table, his wolfish grin flashing for half a second before vanishing again. There’s something feral about him, something barely restrained beneath his cocky exterior ever since Josh died, like he’s always one wrong word away from snapping. I just hope I am not around when he does because Goddess help whoever causes him to lose control of the beast that lurks beneath his skin.
And then there’s Lucas.
He slides into the booth last, moving almost mechanically, sitting opposite Jaxon and Ryker. Where Jaxon exudes swagger and Ryker radiates danger, Lucas is…stillness. Cold and unflinching. His gaze is locked on me before I even reach their table. A flat, unreadable stare that sends an unwelc
