I took everything in as I happily sipped my butterscotch latte from a large red mug. A stack of peanut butter cookies about the size of my palm sat on a black plate in the middle of our round stainless steel table, and Ren had been devouring them, one by one.
He’d started with ten and was down to two. It was a heroic effort.
Ren stared into KC’s eyes while he licked crumbs off his fingers in an obscene way that had us both mesmerized—along with a woman who was probably in her forties. She had a ball each of yellow and brown yarn at a nearby table and was knitting away at a hefty scarf while her cheeks pinked up.
I kicked Ren’s foot under the table, but he didn’t glance away from KC or stop until he’d laved every finger from tip to base.
I’d been on the verge of saying something—who knew what. All at once, I was hyperaware of my cock punching the inside of my jeans. Heat coiled in my groin. A noise like I’d been slugged in the gut leaked from me.
Ren winked at me, then KC.
Clearing my throat, I raised my mug but didn’t drink the steaming sweet latte. “So—” My voice was far huskier than it should be.
Ren settled back in his chair with a cocky grin.
“Aria and Robby seemed nice.” I took a long sip of the latte and shivered at the sweet warmth winding through me to settle in my belly. It was a toss-up whether the velvety pleasure was from the beverage or Ren’s bullshit.
Ren raised an eyebrow in my direction, then snagged KC’s attention by staring directly into his amber-flecked blue eyes. “Yeah, they were headed off to fuck. She was wet after seeing him skate. Gushing. Bet it was dripping down herthighs. Probably had to change her panties. Did you have that problem?” He nudged my foot.
A million emotions fluttered through me. Embarrassment, since I actually had come in my boxers on multiple occasions—and a violent twist of desire. I wish I’d done that while he was skating around, showing off his power. I wish I could tell him yes and peel off my boxers and shove them in his face so he could smell what I’d done.
“Last I checked, I don’t wear panties,” I snarked.
“We could change that.” He rapped on the table, then snagged a new cookie and took a bite.
My face scalded and I set down my mug with so little control that a good bit sloshed onto the table. We didn’t do anything about it. “What the fuck?”
“You broke Oli.” KC gave me that puppy-dog smile of his.
I rolled my eyes. “I suppose you think I should want your dick enough to do that?”
Ren rocked his shoulders from side to side. “Mm-hmm. I know KC does.” He wrapped an arm around KC’s firm waist and rested his chin on KC’s shoulder. “Tell me some of the dirty things you want to do in Shakira.” He brushed his lips against KC’s cheek in a tease.
I couldn’t tell for sure that our spectator had heard us, but her knitting needlesclackedfaster and she kept stealing glances at KC and Ren. Part of me wanted to make a face at her, but Ren was the one not keeping his voice down. It wasn’t her fault she could hear every raunchy detail flying out of his mouth. I flicked his wrist, but he didn’t look away from his victim.
KC’s face flushed pinker than a sunset and his sexy warm chuckle made my dick situation worse. The bad mood I’d been fighting off since yesterday closed in around me as Ren finally got a clue and leaned in to whisper in KC’s ear instead of broadcasting to everyone how he wanted to fuck us. He was soinvested in flirting with KC that he dropped his cookie back on the plate, then massaged KC’s thigh under the table.
They were clearlyhappy.
Which was good.
I made the decision to shove off the emotions—all the awful shit—that had been on my mind, just like I had while Ren was skating. As KC turned to smile and whisper something in Ren’s ear that practically had KC humping his leg, a bolt of anger struck me, and I curled my fingers around the edge of the table. After what KC had done this morning, he didn’t deserve to be the one getting loved on.
Fuck. I guess being mad about the protein powder was stupid. KC was clearly working through a real issue. Hell, I was being an asshole. He needed love evenmorebecause there’d been weirdness. But I couldn’t use logic to shake off the way I’d felt earlier or now. It seemed like I was more worried about him than he was about himself, and it had only taken seconds for me to become a jealous mess.
I picked up a cookie, grabbed KC’s hand, and dropped it onto his palm. He looked down the same way I would expect someone to examine a rattlesnake, with horror and surprise vying for top contender in his expression.
“Have a cookie.” I smiled. Yeah, I was being a shit, but after what he’d put me through this morning, I felt justified.
KC made a face and tried to put the cookie on the plate, but I blocked him. Ren shot a frown between us.
“I’m good,” KC said.
Ren nudged his shoulder. “One won’t hurt. Hell, I’ve had eight. They’re fantastic.”
KC gave up trying to get the cookie back where it belonged and dropped it onto the table. “I... uh... would rather eat a healthy meal than sugar.” He ran a hand through his short red hair.
Watching KC struggle just made me ache for him, which piled on top of all those other shitty feelings I’d been trying to ignore. I had no idea why I’d thought being a brat would make me feel better. When had making KC uncomfortable ever been part of the game I played with Ren? It wasn’t, and I shouldn’t have done that.
