Page 25 of Same Rogue
“Probably,” he clipped out. And then he was gone.
Kit curled deeper into the comfortable sheets and reveled in the buzz of her body. Oh, she liked him. She really liked him.
She pulled her phone from the nightstand and texted him.You’re a fun boy. Send.
His response was fast.Send me a picture.
To help you get through your panic attack?Send.
Sure.
Kit lifted her phone and took a selfie of her in the sheets, the covers pulled down just to above her nipple-line. Her hair was messy, and her cheeks were a rosy pink, and her eyes were the bright and glowing gray of her wolf. Send.
A video came through from Bridger a few minutes later. His phone was on some kind of mount in his truck, and he was driving. He didn’t say anything in it, just looked at the camerawith a wicked smirk, and then back to the road as he turned. Back at the camera, then to the road.
He looked completely relaxed.
Oh, she understood.
He’d just sent her proof that he wasn’t panicking now.
Kit rested the phone to her chest and grinned vacantly at the ceiling.
If her future mate didn’t make her feel like this, she didn’t want it.
Chapter Eight
Bridger couldn’t go in.
Matt and Gina’s cars were both parked in the driveway, which meant Amelia’s parents were both home. They were so close to him, yet they still felt fifty miles away. The drive here had been eternal, but that was his fault. Bridger had come up with excuses to stop and stall. His truck needed gas—only no, it didn’t—so he’d stopped at a gas station to top off the tank. Then he’d decided he was starving—only no, he’d just eaten—and he needed to stop at a sit-down restaurant. A rest stop had called his name next, and he’d spent thirty minutes sitting at a picnic table immersed in memories of family trips with Matt and Gina.
He hadn’t seen them in a year, at least. Maybe longer.
He knew they didn’t blame him, but Bridger had always had his feet planted securely in reality. He was the reason Amelia wasn’t here anymore. He was the reason Matt and Gina didn’t have their only daughter anymore. He was the reason they would never have grandbabies.
So here he sat in front of their house, overthinking it all. He’d shown up here a hundred times to pick her up. God, they’d been so young.
Gina and Matt had eventually accepted him, and loved him for their human daughter, and that said something big about their character. If he was being honest though, their naivety about werewolves was one of the reasons Amelia had died.
Ten years without her felt like a hundred.
His phone vibrated, and he checked the text message that came in, his heart in his throat.
Yep, it was her. It was Kit.
Bridger sat up straighter as he read it.
I’m working another shift at The Mark tonight, but I get off a little early. 9:00 tonight. I was wondering if you wanted to grab a late dinner? With me? If not I totally get it! I just figured I would ask. You are interesting, Real Bridger.
He moved to text her back, but a knock sounded at his window, and he jumped.
Matt stood there, looking older than Bridger remembered, but his smile was genuine and familiar.
Bridger left his phone in the cupholder and got out, hesitantly.
“Come here,” Amelia’s dad murmured, holding his arms out.
Bridger gave him a hug. It was a quick, manly one, that included a couple rough pats on both of their backs. It was their way.
