“Come on, come at me." I fake growled, taunting him with the put-on wolf form of a ten-year-old.
Kyle was sitting comfortably on the ground with his eyes on a book. I glimpse at the clearing behind me, and I see both our parents having a good time.
Without hearing any reply from Kyle, I pout.
I lower my head and peek at his face. My brow creased, knowing that he was still fixated on reading.
So I flopped my back on the soft, dry grass between his legs—while my scarlet, waist-length wavy hair settled all around my head and on his thigh.
Both my small hands and legs were raised in the sky while I continued to imitate a wolf. I snuck my face under the book and started to snuggle my nose at the cover.
Hearing him grunt, he began moving the book upwards but my face still followed. He ra
