Desperate for any reason to touch her, I clasped her hand, my heart—a fucking organ I hadn’t thought actually worked—suddenly in my throat.“Happy birthday,mo réiltín.”
Vega
SIX WEEKS LATER
I wasn’t sure what hurt more, my head or my feet.After waking up at five that morning to study for a final, I then walked to work and pulled a double.My smile kept the tips flowing as I took orders and served up the greasy trash my boss called cuisine.
All I wanted was three ibuprofen, a hot shower, and a meal that didn’t come from a to-go container or a ramen packet.Stepping out of Frank’s Diner, I slung my backpack over one shoulder and turned for the bus stop that was two blocks down.
Before I made it a dozen steps, an expensive SUV pulled up beside me and honked.I glanced over, and my glare quickly faded when the window rolled down and I saw the darkly delicious man sitting in the driver’s seat.
“How about a ride,mo réiltín?”
“Kane!”I squealed, running over and opening the passenger’s door.
Climbing in, I threw my arms around his neck, hugging him hard.His scent wrapped around me as he folded my body against his.My feet still hurt and my head was thumping, but it no longer mattered.I hadn’t seen him in four days, hadn’t seen Ryder in two, and I’d missed them both so badly it had become a physical ache.
For several long moments, Kane didn’t move.He just sat there, his thickly muscled body stretched over the center console, his face buried in my neck.He skimmed his nose up and down my flesh, leaving a trail of goose bumps that morphed into a shiver along my spine.When he reached my shoulder, right above the collar of my work T-shirt, he pressed an openmouthed kiss there.
Little sparks zapped along every nerve ending inside my body, and a gush of burning heat pooled in my core, soaking through my panties.Biting the inside of my cheek, I attempted to hold back the pleased little whine that wanted free.
I hugged him tighter, a dozen scenarios playing out in my mind that should have made me feel ashamed.Kane was my friend.In the short time I’d known him, he had been nothing but kind to me, never once crossing that invisible line that stood between us.The one my heart had marked in the proverbial sand so I remembered that no matter how desperately my body ached for Kane—no matter how thoroughly invested my heart had already become with him—it was wrong to want my maybe-boyfriend’s coworker and friend.
Ryder and I hadn’t discussed what we were to each other.Once, right after I’d left the group home for good and moved in to the small one-bedroom Ry had helped me lease, he had casually mentioned that when I was ready, we needed to have a chat about our relationship.I’d taken that to mean he was ready for us to go from best friends to acknowledging the fact that we were soul mates.
Seven weeks ago, I would have been thrilled to have that talk with Ryder.Anytime, anyplace.It wouldn’t have even needed to be a full-on conversation.A simple, “You’re my girlfriend, I’m your boyfriend” statement from him would have been just fine.
But now that I’d met Kane, I was reluctant to broach the topic.All the things I’d imagined a relationship being, what I’d hoped for when I was younger, were so much different from the reality of what I actually wanted.Not just with Ryder.I wanted him—there was no question of that.It was that I wanted RyandKane.
Which was wrong.And unfair to both of the men I cared about.But…
I was starting to wonder if it was possible to have two soul mates.My heart kept whispering, yes, it was one hundred percent possible because I was already in love with Kane.
In that same, mind-twisting, body-melting, heart-racing way that I loved Ryder.
It was hard to put a label on what Ry and I were to each other.Maybe-boyfriend was about as close to a description I could come up with for him.He texted me at least ten times a day.Always starting my morning with a “Have a good day, little star,” and ending it with “Sweet dreams, Vega.Shine bright for me tonight.Love and miss you.”
He was forever finding reasons to touch me when we hung out.Holding my hand for no reason, brushing my hair back from my face, giving me a flirty tap on the ass when he walked behind me.But he hadn’t kissed me yet.I’d figured that once I’d turned eighteen and finally left the group home where the rules were military-strict, there would be nothing to hold him back.But if anything, he seemed more restrained in his caressing touches now than before I’d become a legal adult.
Kane touched me in the same ways.Skimming his fingertips over any bare patch of skin that caught his eye.Lifting my hand to place a kiss to my palm or lightly brushing his lips over my knuckles.Anytime we were seated beside each other, he reached for my hand, entwining our fingers and keeping them firmly on his thigh—sometimes for hours.
Both my guys were openly affectionate with me, especially behind the closed door of my new-to-me apartment.Inside my home, they amped up the flirting and the panty-melting touches until I was ready to beg them to kiss, touch, suck, and fuck me.One, both…I didn’t care, as long as someone gave me a few incredible orgasms.
Honking traffic eventually separated us, and Kane shifted back slowly, like he had all the time in the world.His evening scruff scratched against my skin as he lifted his head, pulling the smallest whimper from my throat.Heat filled my cheeks, and I quickly busied myself fastening my seat belt so I didn’t see his reaction, afraid I might say or do something that would ruin our time alone together if he knew how much he affected him.
Once the belt clicked into place, he reached over, adjusting the strap so it was snug.He and Ryder always did that.No matter which one of them was driving, if I was in the front passenger’s seat, they double-checked that my belt was secure before shifting gears.
“I stopped and picked up a few groceries,” Kane said as he made a turn that would take us back to my apartment.“You mentioned craving comfort foods the last few days, and I thought I’d cook you a few of mine.”
With a grumpy rumble, my stomach announced that it was one hundred percent on board with that idea.His dark eyes shifted from the road to me.“Did you eat today,mo réiltín?”
“Of course I ate,” I told him with a smile that had his eyes narrowing.
“What did you eat?”
“Toast for breakfast.Fries for lunch.Grabbed a little soup on my break about two hours ago.”It was all the truth.I’d left out the exact quantities because they weren’t part of the question I’d been asked.
The toast had been the last slice of bread I’d had in my apartment, eaten completely dry because I was out of jam and butter.Those fries, barely a handful, had been a few that were left over from a basket over the fryer that would have been tossed in the waste pile.And the soup had been broth I’d put in a to-go coffee cup to keep it warm and sipped whenever I happened to have a moment to myself between running food to my customers.
