Tom wandered to the table, settling into one of the chairs, cradling the mug in both hands. He looked softer than usual, like the world hadn’t reached him yet.
Bryce sat opposite him and let himself look for a few long moments. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. Maybe just memorizing the moment, the peace he felt.
Tom broke the silence, his voice thoughtful. “You know, it wasn’t just the job that made me pull back after Zack. It was... I wasn’t ready to risk it again.”
Bryce stilled. He hadn’t expected to talk about what had happened. He never did, not once the sex was over. Because there was never anything more to talkabout.
Tom didn’t look away. “I don’t mean to drop that on you. I just wanted you to know it wasn’t just sex for me last night.”
A dozen possible replies skittered through Bryce’s head. All of them too much or not enough, and all with a thread of panic thrumming through.
He cleared his throat. “I’ll make breakfast. Nothing fancy. Eggs, toast, maybe some bacon if Jesse hasn’t eaten it all.”
Tom’s lips curved. “Sold.”
Bryce stood, stretching. “All right. But fair warning, any complaints about my cooking, and you’re wearing the chef hat next time.”
There was a small pause, just long enough for both of them to register it. Next time.
Tom met his eyes. He said nothing, but the smile he gave in return held something Bryce hadn’t seen in him before. Not just warmth, but hope.
And Bryce, who’d always run from permanence, didn’t know what to do.
That became ever clearer over breakfast. Somewhere between buttering toast and reaching for the pepper, he realized he didn’t want Tom to leave.
He hadn’t intended to want that. He’d spent years making sure no one got too attached to him. Wasn’t fair, when he wasn’t interested in serious. He was always up front about what he wanted—no strings, a bit of fun, and a good memory. And there’d never been any danger ofhiswanting more because his heart was already taken, long ago.
So what the hell this was… How the hell had he not even spelled things out for Tom, making it clear what was on offer—and more importantly, whatwasn’t? He’d just been taken over bywantinghim last night.
Now here he was, watching the curve of Tom’s mouth around a bite of toast, and thinking what it might be like to make him breakfast again. It scared the hell out of him.
“Still no sign of Jesse,” Tom said, his voice quiet. “I can’t tell if he’s avoiding me or just coming to terms with accidentally being the most important shifter in the country.”
Bryce huffed a laugh, turning back to the bacon sizzling in the pan. “Could be both.”
Tom tilted his head. “You think he’s avoiding me?”
“I think he’s scared,” Bryce said, without sugarcoating it. “Of what comes next. Whatever exactly that is.”
That sobered them both. Bryce turned the burner off, and the bacon hissed into silence.
Tom said, softer, “If I had the power to keep him from being used, I’d do it.”
“I know,” Bryce said. And he did. But it didn’t make any of this easier.
He plated the eggs in silence and set the dish between them. Tom reached for a fork, and Bryce’s hand brushed his again. There was no jolt this time, just warmth and familiarity.
It felt like the beginning of something. And Bryce still didn’t know what the hell to do with that.
TOM
It was damn hard to peel himself away from Bryce and head back into town. But he had a job to do, and that included discovering what Jax had picked up on his own security sweep.
Theofficialsecurity sweep, that was. Councilor Bennett gave Jax carte blanche to run the security detail however he saw fit, which Tom approved of for operational reasons, but it didn’t exactly help to contain Jax’s ego. Part of why he got so pissed atTom tagging along, as he called it, was that he believed that his word should be enough for Steadman. The thing Jax had never been able to get his head around was that Steadman wanted more than just a security perspective. She simply dressed it up that way to make it sound harmless.
He had to get his head back in the game fast, instead of thinking about last night, and this morning, and how Bryce had given him two of the best orgasms of his life. And had held him through the night. Tom had never had anyone check in with him as often and as sincerely as Bryce had done, and it was… It was as if what Tom wanted had mattered to Bryce.
He shouldn’t have said what he had over breakfast—that it hadn’t just been sex. Talk about pressure. But it had felt important, somehow, to be honest.
