Nyomi
Hiro watched Kenji have sex a lot? Oh. I really need the tea.
“So. . .” I nearly dropped the eggs. "Were you one of his Eyes?"
He laughed—a genuine sound that transformed his tired face. "His Eye? No. Not at all."
"Well, I have so many questions, but keep in mind, I'm a journalist." I set the eggs down carefully. "We always have questions. We always want to know more. So, if you think I'm nosy, I apologize and I won’t ask any more questions."
"Ask whatever you want. It doesn't matter."
I grabbed a bowl and handed it to him for the potatoes. "Why have you watched Kenji have sex a lot?"
"Because we used to share women."
My whole head damned near exploded. "Oh my God. Really?"
"Yeah." He started on a new potato. His knife worked steady and precise. "I don't believe my brother would care if you knew. Since this is his past."
"So, like. . .you and him together? With a woman?"
"Many women." He corrected it casually, like he was correcting a recipe measurement.
"Really?" I leaned against the counter. My journalist brain was now fully engaged.
"Yes."
"Wow. And the women survived both of you in one night?"
He laughed again, and I was starting to really like that sound. "Yeah. Somehow they survived."
"That's crazy interesting." My mind was racing—trying to picture it and failing. Hiro was huge, muscular, intimidating. Kenji was the same. Both of them together with one woman?
DAMN!!
Heat bloomed in my chest, and I shook my head quickly.
Nope. Not going there. Not going to even try to picture it. I’m going to be good.
I cleared my throat and grabbed a clean bowl to change the subject in my own mind. "So how long ago was that? Like, many years ago when y'all were young?"
"A month ago, actually."
The bowl nearly slipped from my hands.
"A month ago?" My voice came out higher than intended. "So, this is, like, a thing you do. Period."
"Wedid," he corrected. "Past tense. I think."
"You don't know for sure?"
"Well, yesterday was the first time he told me that he would never share you."
Oh.
Something warm and possessive curled in my chest. I knew Kenji was serious about me—he'd said it, shown it, proven it. But hearing it from Hiro, hearing that Kenji had drawnthisline.
It hit different.
