But that internal rejoicing equates to me being incapable ofnotblurting something out, so I go with the first question that enters my mind. “When you were young, what did you want to be when you grew up?”
He hums. “Career-wise, a pro baseball player. But my main goal was to be a good man, like my dad.”
“Well, accomplishing fifty percent of your dreams isn’t bad.”
“I’m not a pro baseball player, Rena. And whether you want to face it or not, you know I didn’t become a good man.”
I flip onto my side, bending my elbow to prop my temple on my elevated fist. “What does being a good person even look like? Aren’t we all just flailing and flawed?”
He doesn’t answer, but his head rolls toward me, our eyes colliding in the glimmer of city life twinkling through the cracked drapes. The way he’s staring at me is daunting because it’s unclear what he’s searching for, so I forge ahead with my chaotic thoughts.
“I mean, objectively speaking, if you listed who my brothers are—what they’ve done—on paper, they’d all look like the Devil. But Ryker loves Mercy so much that when she broke his heart and chose someone else, he kept being her friend even though it killed him—like physically wrecked him. And when she was harmed by that same person, he did everything he could to handle it the way she wanted, even though that wasn’t at all how he worked. And now, he’s biding his time, loving her from afar, even though it’s excruciating.”
Tears prick my eyes because Mercy and Ryker’s story is as far from a fairy tale as it gets, but he still grasps at the strands of fraying possibilities that, someday, she’ll be his. It’s been painful for our whole family to watch.
“And Axel,” I continue, “he gave up everything to become my father figure at twenty-one years old. He had been destined to become a debauchery king, but chose to be a doting guardian. He played board games and hide-and-seek, encouraged our passions, hired special teachers and coaches for anything we wanted to learn, and built Jax and me little hideaways so the resort felt like ours. Like home. Sometimes, Ryker, Cash, and Maddox would complain about him making us all play together—especially Maddox, who was a grumpy teen—but they actually loved it. We were all so close—still are. It’s why I’ve never pushed back, beyond irritating him with my piercings, even though Axel has absurd rules and I’m a grown woman. Because I owe him so much. He taught me what it meant to be cherished.”
Ty blows out a breath, and it floats over me like a silk scarf, tickling my skin with a foolish promise of more, so I keep going, “Ryker, too, in his brash way. He’s hard on me because the idea I could be hurt torments him. And Maddox, Cash, and Jax might haveblack-soul moments, but their hearts of gold are unwavering. How could anyone label men like that wicked or evil?”
His fingers string through my hair, and that fiery gaze of his sears me from head to toe. “You deserve better.”
I know he doesn’t mean my brothers, but if one thing is clear in this dark room, it’s that I need him to spell everything out. “Better than what?” I probe.
“Than me,” he answers as he palms the back of my head.
“And there you go, Ty, dishing out these nonsensical statements. I’ve been exposed to a lot of people in my life. You’re a good egg.”
You’re a good egg? I have never uttered that phrase in my life.
Ignoring my rambling, he adds to his. “Now that I’m here, I don’t know how to walk away from you. I know I should but—”
“Don’t.”
“I’m not a compass, Rena. I’ll drown you in darkness.” He’s doling out an argument, even as he shimmies toward me, snaking an arm around my lower back, our lips so close that his minty breath cools my chin and cheeks.
Gliding my hand beneath his T-shirt, I let my fingertips explore his sculpted abs, my volleyed retort strained. “Or maybe I’ll keep you afloat. I’m an excellent swimmer.”
“That’s not enough. No one can swim when they’re anchored to the sea floor. Did you listen to what I told you?” He’s so serious, so conflicted, that I’m afraid he’ll pull away.
“Yes,” I avow with all the pensive consideration his foreboding deterrent requires. “So, here’s the plan. If you’re sinking, I don’t have a lot of curves to grab on to, but I do have porn-star nipples with bars through them, so if you—”
“Fuck.” His whole body shakes with a fit of laughter, the deep, buoyant tenor slicing through the quiet—it’s a sound I’ve wanted to author for years, the one Ty howls with his favorite people. “I love that I never know what’s going to come out of that beautiful mouth.”
Seeing as how this lighter angle is working, I commit to it. “You could get a leg up by deciding what goes into it.”
He nips at my bottom lip, and I can feel his smile. But he’s still holding back, so I choose to be patient, as he requested earlier.
“I’m so fucking selfish for this,” he hisses.
“I’ve waited years for you, Ty. The only selfish thing you could do right now is make me keep waiting.”
And he doesn’t.
His lips crash into mine with an unexpected fervor. The first sweep of his tongue is gentle and coaxing, imploring me to relinquish control and let him in. But every other brush and touch is demanding and claiming.
His suede-and-spices-and-secret-desires fragrance isn’t a cologne. It oozes out of his pores as a cautionary tale. But for me, it’s a whiff of deliverance.
He tastes like cliff diving and felonies.
