“No, Killer. I’m just done pretending that I don’t want you. That I don’t care about you.”
With a wink, he says, “I have some things to do, and then I’ll be counting down the hours for our date.”
He rises to his feet, and I blush as his brothers stare at me with matching shocked expressions.
“Date?” Carter asks, sounding surprised but not angry.
“Remember the pool bet? Well, this is him cashing in on my debt.”
Knox arches a brow before shaking his head.
“Is this consensual? You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
I shrug my shoulders and glance at him, and then Carter.
“It’s one night. I don’t think it’ll change things between us like he does, but I’ll be fine. Are you both okay with it?”
Carter chuckles softly.
“Always so worried about other people. We are fine with it if you are. You know the rules. There are none as long as it’s one of us.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
KILLIAN
I’m as nervous as a fucking school boy as I wait for her. I’ve over thought everything, wanting to make sure everything is exactly right. When Knox came into my room to discuss my plans for tonight, I was sure he was going to tell me it wasn’t happening. I breathed a sigh of relief once he told me it was fine, but that I had better honor her safe word if it comes to that. I don’t expect her to let me touch her, but I assured him I will honor it, regardless. I swore to him that I won’t do anything to hurt her or either of my brothers. I was relieved when he seemed to believe me, but I know this is still an uphill climb. I light the candles on the small table I set up for dinner as I hear her knock lightly on the door.
“Come in.”
My breath hitches when she walks into the room, closing the door behind her. She’s wearing a tiny black skirt and a sleeveless purple shirt. Her long blonde hair hangs down past her elbows, a pale pink tint colors her cheeks, but not a bit of makeup. Just like I prefer. My gaze travels down her body, and I spot the bracelet my brothers gave her. That bracelet used to bother me, but not anymore. I know I’ll be adding a boxing glove to it. It’s just amatter of time. I have to believe I can fix this because if I can’t—I don’t think I could live with myself.
“Candles. Wow.”
I motion to the table, signaling for her to take a seat, and her eyes go to the food sitting on the table.
“I’m not hungry.”
Flashing her a stern expression, I motion to the table again.
“You did not eat lunch, Killer. This is not negotiable. Sit down so we can have dinner.”
She sighs in annoyance but takes a seat while mumbling under her breath.
“Oh, there you are, dick. I knew the way you were behaving was too good to be true.”
I take a seat across from her, and while I don’t want to fight with her, I have to respond to what she said.
“If making you take care of yourself means I’m a dick, so be it, Killer. Now eat.”
She lifts the tray covering her plate and gasps while staring at her spaghetti in surprise.
“Is this spaghetti with pork chops?”
I nod as I remove the tray from mine.
“It’s still your favorite, right?”
Heather's watery eyes confirm that it is still her favorite food, and my chest constricts. I’m surprised at myself, but I want to take care of her and make her happy. I’m such a fucking idiot. This would have been so much easier if I hadn’t been such an asshole.
