Page 38 of Riot’s Revenge

“I am sitting down.”

“You are currently walking.”

“Temporarily.”

I snorted and kept going down. A few minutes later I came back into the apartment carrying another box and found him exactly where I’d expected. Sitting at my kitchen table, doing absolutely nothing, arms folded and eyebrows drawn in. I set the box down beside the kitchen counter and straightened, rolling my shoulders.

My place had never looked like much. It wasn’t the kind of apartment people got attached to. It was somewhere to sleep, somewhere to shower, somewhere to grab a few hours of peace when the clubhouse got too loud. Now boxes were stacked against every wall, furniture sat where it didn’t belong, and Reaper was occupying my kitchen like an injured gargoyle.

Maria stood in the middle of it, surrounded by boxes, as though she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself. Her gaze drifted over the boxes, the furniture, the evidence of an entire life packed up and moved in a single day.

“You take the bedroom.” I offered.

Her head snapped up immediately. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s your bedroom.”

I glanced toward the hallway.

“And?”

Her eyes narrowed. “And where are you sleeping?”

“The clubhouse.”

To me, the solution seemed obvious, I had a room there. Hell, half the brothers practically lived there anyway.

Maria stared at me for a long second before shaking her head. “No. You’re not moving out of your own apartment because of me. I can take the couch.”

Before I could answer, Ghost appeared in the doorway carrying a box and stopped dead. Then slowly set the box down. “Oh, absolutely not.”

I sighed. “The fuck are you talking about now?”

Ghost pointed between us. “You’re giving her the apartment.”

“Temporary.”

“You’re sleeping at the clubhouse.”

“Yes.”

“And neither of you sees a problem with that?”

Maria folded her arms. “I’m not taking his bedroom.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s his.”

Ghost looked at her like she’d just admitted she didn’t understand how doors worked.

“Oh my god.” Ghost pointed dramatically between us. “You’re both idiots.”

Reaper let out a laugh from the kitchen table. “Ah, fuck.” He grabbed his ribs while still grinning.

Ghost ignored him. “You’ve already slept together.”