“He didn’t have to,” he interrupts me.
“Oh,” is all my mind can gather at the moment.
He walks over to me, and my heart picks up. The smell of cologne surrounds me, and I have to force myself to stay here in the present and not fall into a memory of him.
“I just didn’t want you to be mad at him,” I add quickly as he nears. “We’re …”
“All adults,” he finishes my sentence.
I swallow nervously.
He reaches out and grabs a lock of my hair. He twists it around his finger like he used to, and my knees begin to tremble. “Bones …”
“I’m not mad.” His blue eyes roam my face.
“You’re not?” I ask, feeling the sweat bead between my breasts. Fuck, it’s hot in here. I don’t love Bones, but I can’t deny we had some amazing chemistry.
He shakes his head once. “No, I’m jealous.”
I tense.
He presses his body into mine, and his finger that was twirling in my hair slides into my hair, gripping my scalp and tilting my head back. “I do miss you, Emilee.”
My lips part, and my eyes grow heavy at his words. “I’m …” I stop myself.
“What?” he urges me to answer. “Miss me too?”
I was going to say I’m with Titan now, but am I? I was never reallywithBones. We just had an understanding. He was horny—he came to me. He was angry—he came to me. We never had a label; we didn’t need it. But when it comes to me and Titan, I’m lost. I don’t expect him to only fuck me. I’m a queen, for fuck’s sake.
“Bones …” The door opens.
He doesn’t even bother looking away from me. “Get the fuck out!”
The door slams shut after that. It was Grave. I know his voice well enough.
Fuck!
“I’m sorry I came up here,” I manage to get out.
“I’m not.” His other arm snakes behind my back, pulling me closer to him.
“Bones.” My hands grip his white button-down.
He doesn’t allow me to finish that thought. He presses his lips on mine, and I stiffen against him but only for a second. My body reacts to him like it used to.
My arms go up and around his neck, and I open for him, letting Dillan Reed take what he wants like he always did.
TITAN
Pulling up tothe York’s residence, I get out of my car and walk up to the door, knocking on it. I place my hands in my pockets, rocking back and forth when the door opens.
“Titan.” She stands before me in a pair of jean shorts and a black tank top. Her hair up in a messy bun and no makeup on. She’s so gorgeous. But Emilee York always was. She could have had any boy she wanted.
“I got your message,” I say.
Her eyes drop to the floor for the briefest moment before she forces them back up to meet mine. She squares her shoulders, stepping to the side. “Come on in.”
I enter the house and she shuts the door behind me.
