My throat closed. “Kade—”
“Don’t.” His hand moved, fingers brushing against mine in the darkness—a fleeting touch that felt like a brand. “Just… don’t run when the blanket comes down. Please.”
The ‘please’ nearly broke me. Kade had been quiet, other than during the truth game, but here, in the safety of Fort Ghost, he was vulnerable.
He rolled over, his back to me now, and within seconds, his breathing slowed.
But I stayed awake, staring at the curve of his shoulder in the darkness. His words echoed louder than I wanted them to, settling into the cracks of my chest right alongside the weight of Dane’s steady breathing.
“Get some rest,” Dane murmured against my hair, his arms pulling me tighter against him. His voice was thick with sleep, already half-gone.
I swallowed hard, my gaze still locked on Kade’s back. “What if I’m not tired?”
Silence stretched between the three of us, heavy and charged.
Then Kade’s voice cut through the dark, low and amused. “Oh, this is gonna be fun.”
More
The air inside the fort was thick, charged with the kind of electricity that comes when three people breathe the same oxygen in a space too small for their desires. Kade’s low, amused promise of fun was still vibrating in the dark, and Dane’s grip on me had tightened.
“Not tired, huh?” Dane’s voice was a rough caress against my ear. He moved, shifting until he was looming over me, his broad shoulders blocking out the light from the lantern.
Kade moved on my right, his heat a constant, heavy presence. My heart danced against my ribs. I wanted this. I wanted to lose myself in them.
But as Dane’s hand slid beneath the hem of his shirt, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin of my hip, a thought snagged in my brain. It was a loose thread I couldn’t stop pulling.
“Wait,” I whispered, my hand catching his wrist.
Dane froze, his thumb halting its slow, agonizing circle against my skin. “What is it, Babygirl?”
“I have one more question,” I breathed.
Beside me, Kade went still.
I looked up at Dane. “Your ex. Do you guys still talk?”
Dane’s hand, which had been idly tracing the line of my hip, went perfectly still. Beside me, Kade stopped mid-chew. He didn’t look at us; he looked at the wool ceiling of our cave, his expression going uncharacteristically blank.
“Yes, but only when I have to,” he said honestly.
“Why would you still need to talk to someone you broke up with four years ago? Do you guys still…” I couldn’t finish the thought. It made my stomach turn.
Knots. What would I do if he was friends with all of his exes?
He sat up, his broad shoulders brushing the top of the blanket fort. “No, we don’t. I talk to her when she calls for money, or when I have to beg her to see my daughter.”
My lungs seized. The air in the fort suddenly turned thin. I stared at him, searching for a punchline, but his eyes held nothing but devastating honesty.
“A daughter?” I rasped.
I looked at Kade, seeking a joke to break the weight, but he was still staring at the ceiling, his jaw working in a way that told me this was the one topic that wasn’t a game.
“It wasn’t in your Mythinder bio,” I rasped. Unconsciously, I tried to pull away, but his grip tightened.
“I wasn’t on Mythinder looking for a life partner,” he said slow and carefully.
“I guess not,” I scoffed.
