Wheeler scoped out the apartment and stepped back when a fluffy cat slinked around his legs. “Jesus. Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
He glanced inside her bedroom, which was bereft of color. White curtains, white carpet, and a white bedspread. Naya must have thought she was Snow-Fucking-White. The red chair in the living room stood out like a wound, as if someone had tried to stab this room with judgment. Some people you could figure out by taking a glance around their house—seeing how tidy they kept it, the shitty art they hung on their walls, and how many mirrors they owned. Naya designed her apartment as if royal sheiks would be stopping in for coffee and a hookah. Lexi had mentioned the wild parties Naya threw, but he wondered how it was possible she didn’t have stains on her furniture. Perhaps she didn’t have the kind of parties he was used to.
A deep chuckle rolled out of his chest when he imagined what she’d do to a man who spilled merlot on her sofa. For some reason, the mental image of her putting that man in his place brought him great amusement.
His phone rang and he pulled it out of his back pocket. “Speaking.”
“Wheeler? It’s Lexi.”
Shit.
“Where are you?” she asked in a slow, accusatory manner that told him she knew exactly where he was, or at the very least, who he was with.
“In bed with my cock buried deep inside—”
“All right, that’s enough. I know you’re at Naya’s, and if you’re with her, then I know for a fact nothing is buried anywhere.”
He nudged the furry cat away with his foot. “What makes you say that?”
“Because Naya goes for fat wallets, not fatheads. Look, I overheard Austin talking to you this morning. What’s going on?”
“Can’t say.”
Lexi was known for pressing her ear against doors. Shifters respected pack rules, but she was raised by humans and often let her curious nature run away with her, even if it wasn’t in her best interest to do so.
She gave an exasperated sigh. “I’m just going to assume that you’re there to help, but if Naya’s in trouble, I want to know. She won’t tell me, and I can’t make her. Just… just take care of her and make sure nothing happens. She mentioned a girl at work went missing, and now I’m worried that has something to do with why you’re there.”
Wheeler twisted the rod on the blinds and peered down at Naya in the car. She was holding a silver compact in front of her face and touching up her burgundy lips. He wandered to the open doorway and leaned against the doorjamb. “You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“I’m trusting you. If it’s serious, see if you can talk her into staying with us.”
“Austin won’t go for it.” Wheeler tapped the toe of his foot against the frame to block the cat from getting out. “He’s not going to open his door for an outsider who might bring trouble to the pack. That’s the way things work in our world.”
“Well, I’ll just have a talk with him if that’s the case,” she replied in a defiant voice. “Is Naya in the room with you?”
“No.”
“Don’t keep me in the dark if something happens. Okay? And whatever you do, don’t drink her coffee.”
He shut the door and ambled down two flights of stairs. “Why’s that?”
“Trust me,” she said with a haughty laugh. “If she offers, just tell her you don’t drink coffee or that you’re on a caffeine-restricted diet.”
“Gotta run.” Wheeler hung up and tucked the phone in his pocket.
Naya’s dress blew up when she got out of the car and something shifted inside him when he saw her bronze legs. Naya’s body had a feminine curve that would make any Breed male with a heartbeat stop and look.
All the women Wheeler had bedded were skinny with light tresses, so the fact that a woman like Naya made him as hard as granite confused him. Arousal wasn’t even the right word, because that implied some level of restraint and control.
Wheeler repressed those thoughts and stopped in the middle of the grassy area. “All clear,” he said loudly, tossing the keys in her direction. They arced through the air, and instead of catching them, she put her hands on her hips and watched them slap against the concrete in front of her. With demure grace, she crouched down and lifted them with two fingers. Women in service jobs knew the rules about bending over in front of Shifter wolves. Gestures like that were an invitation, so most had mastered the art of the dip.
But for just a fleeting moment, he wished she had ignored the rules.
***
I didn’t break stride when I breezed past Wheeler. We had similar personalities, and so as long as he didn’t insult me directly, I could tolerate his condescending attitude.