23. Hotaru
I’m not nervous by nature. The fact that I picked a cuticle until it bled during the drive makes me slam the car door. My Mustang 390 GT shimmies her sleek black chassis. The muscle car can take it. Thank goodness. It’s not her fault I’m freaking the fuck out.
No, that’s on Hailey’s head.
She ripped herself open last night and gave me a piece of her heart. I don’t know if she realizes it, and I don’t know if I’ll have to give it back.
“Helllloooo, gorgeous.” Dobson strolls to a stop near the rear of my car. He’s talking to her, not me. And that’s just fine. She’s a whole new car compared to when I found her three years ago. “You finally broke down and tinted the windows.” He smacks her ass. “Sexy.”
I’d wanted to keep her as close to classic as possible, but I fucking hated people being able to see in all the time.
“Why didn’t you ride with Arlo?” His thick brow narrows on me. “You always ride to after-work drinks with him.” He scrubs a hand down his beard, and his brow waggles. His Scottish accent is thicker today. Like he’s already loosened his tie and hit the after-hours’ sauce.
“Oh, his lady love is coming with him. Probably didn’t want to interrupt their back-seat tango.”
That’s not the reason, yet the words sting.
They probably wouldn’t mind me watching or even participating, but I don’t know when they’ll pull the plug on this little escapade. And sure as shit, it terrifies me.
Everything we’ve done makes me crave more.
Arlo had nothing but praise for me at the office this morning. The praise had nothing to do with my mathematical abilities and everything to do with my deviant side. But that’s not all that was exchanged last night.
“I had a meeting at the Naval Militia Base in Flushing,” I grouse.
“Oh.” Dobson claps a hand on my back, rattling my ribs. The guy makes me look slight. “Right then. Drink?” He ambles toward the entrance to one of our favorite after-hours spots.
He limps a little. More than a little really and my head cocks. “Are you trashed or injured?”
His eyes roll, and he waves me off.
“Dobs?” I demand.
He keeps walking like I would when someone pokes somewhere I don’t want them.
“Had to sauce it up to see Karris outside of work again?” I prod where I know I’ll get a reaction.
Sure enough, he wheels on me. The hair on his face scrunches, and his lips form an impressive snarl. I give him a deep yawn.
“Fucker,” he snarls. “Injured, not sauced. Though I might need to be to deal with your ass.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “Injured how?”
“None of your fucking business, that’s how.” He glares and turns toward the entrance.
“This isn’t over.”
He flips me the bird while still holding the door for me.
What a gentleman.
A second before I get there, he releases it to slam back toward my face. I grab it in time to save my nose. “Dick.”
“It’s Big Dick to you,” he says over his shoulder while also greeting the hostess with a grin.
Her cheeks blush, and she hides her smile behind a menu. “Your party is waiting in your usual spot,” she finally offers.
We nod and head to a private room upstairs. Perks of being friends with a billionaire.
I find Hailey straight away. She’s huddled in the corner with Astor and Celeste. Their heads are together while their words are quiet and rushed. Their eyes are wide with disbelief.
Then Hailey laughs.
It’s light and bright and melts that dark place inside me. That dark place I shared with her because she needed it. Little did I realize how much I needed her to see it. To see it and accept it.
“Late arrivals buy drinks tonight,” Karris chirps from where he stands at the room’s small bar. He’s leaning on a high-top mahogany, both elbows on the wood.
Arlo props one elbow on Karris’s left, nearest the women while a person who stuns me for a beat stands to Karris’s right.
A low rumble vibrates in Dobson’s barrel chest. I spare him a glance and find his gaze pinned on the man I’m also surprised to see.
It’s not that I don’t like Harold Larson. After all, he’s my tattoo artist and the best fucking Dom I know. If he knew I call him Harold in my head instead of Hard Limit, he’d make me choke on every dick in this room simultaneously and then invite every patron in the restaurant to have a look while making me vow with a blood oath to never think the name again.
No, I like him fine. I just don’t know why he’s here…when he’s never been before.
Dobson, on the other hand, is ready to rip Harold’s left arm from his body for the simple fact that it’s too close to Karris. That, and that one night about six months ago. The night I was told never to mention or even think about.
Yeah, right.
It was too hot for all those parameters.
Arlo scoffs and smacks the back of Karris’s head. “When have any of you bought a round in the last decade?” He points at the three of us he’s worked with since starting Judge Media, back before it was a conglomerate.
I’m stuck on the casual contact he gave Karris. Sure, it may seem small, but for Arlo, it’s huge. It’s groundbreaking, like “a mountain might shoot up in the center of the room” groundbreaking.
That it just happened, and he doesn’t even seem to realize it. That he didn’t psych himself up to do it. That it’s not plaguing him after the fact.
My heart lodges in my fucking throat.
This touch has nothing to do with me, yet I’ve never been more proud of him.
Even Karris, who can never be serious about a goddamned thing, is sobered by awe. It’s in his sudden and unusual silence, his slacked jaw, and slightly quivering bourbon. Hell, it even shuts down Dobson’s snarl.
“Sounds like Karris is buying tonight,” Hard says, tipping back a fresh drink. Not bourbon. Vodka maybe? It’s clear with no fizz.
Arlo waves him off and pats Karris’s shoulder. “You know I love being able to do this for us. Without you, there’d be no me.” His gaze scans our intimate group and then stops on mine.
The desire to fucking run to him like a sickly sweet movie, throw my arms around him, and kiss him senseless in front of everyone sinks its teeth into my nape.
But that’s not what we do. Not in public anyway and not for a long time.
I nod and steer away from the cluster to the self-serve bar. Essential when we talk business or pleasure. It’s best not to have witnesses, even if it could only be considered hearsay.
Though I want a couple of fingers of bourbon, I only serve myself one that I’ll nurse all night. I drove, and there’s no way in hell I’m leaving my car here overnight.
“Anyone want something while I’m back here?” I spin a full bottle of tequila in my palm to distract myself.
“Scotch. A fucking big one,” Dobson demands, finally moving fully into the room. Slowly, he makes his way to the bar next to Hard, leaving several feet between them.
I grab a mug suitable for a dark ale and just pour, and pour, and pour his favorite label. The bottle is half empty when I replace it and slide his mug over.
“Aye.” He nods and starts gulping.
If it was anyone else, I’d worry. Dobs has been drinking Catholic priests under the table since he was a loun n lad. I only know that means young boy in Scotsman speak because languages interest me, and I looked it the fuck up. He can hold his alcohol better than anyone I’ve ever seen.
“I’d like something,” a sweet, sultry voice rings to my right.
Sure enough, my sunshine stands behind the bar with me, radiating warmth.
“Anything for you,” I whisper.
Her smile grows impossibly bigger. Then her arm shoots out with grabby fingers. “A proper hello is a great place to start.”
I crouch low, wrap my arms around her middle, and stand. Her weight presses against my chest. The thud of her heart knocks into mine. I lift one hand, wrap it around her head, and hold her.
As I breathe her in, everything else falls away.
For a few moments, I feel weightless, and then Karris speaks.
“I want a hug,” he whines. “How come nobody hugs anymore?”
“People hug me all the time,” Astor chimes. “Maybe it’s just you.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be nice? You’re a therapist,” Karris objects.
I kiss Hailey’s head, then set her on her booted feet.
When we turn around, Astor has come closer to the group, shaking her head. “I’m off the clock.” She taps her finger against her lips. “If you want to hire me, I’d love to dig into your psyche.”
“Sounds painful,” he grouses.
“Come here, you big baby.” Arlo holds his arms wide and then pulls Karris into his chest when he just stares.
Hailey squeezes my hand and gives it a little shake. I can’t help but squeeze hers back.
Arlo releases him with a friendly pat on the shoulder. A contented smile fills our man’s face.
Oh fuck. He’s not mine. Not like that. I can’t start thinking he is. Otherwise, I’m doomed.
I drop Hailey’s hand, using tidying up the bar as an excuse.
“I’ll give you a hug,” Hard offers with his arms wide.
“No, you won’t,” Dobs declares without looking up from his mug.
The room goes still. Tension fills the space.
“Have you ever entered a drinking contest?” Hailey asks, propping her elbow on the bar and leaning into Dobson’s space. “I bet you have. I bet you’ve won them all, huh?”
His eyes tilt to her. “Actually, I haven’t. Not ever.” He scratches his beard. “There was a hot-dog-eating contest once.”
I can’t hold back my snort. Neither can Karris.
Before Dobs can get all bent out of shape about it, Hailey smacks the bar. “What have you been doing with your life?” She looks left and right as though in search of something. “We have to find you a drinking contest, stat!”
“Oktoberfest,” Arlo suggests. “Group trip? We have months to plan it.”
“Yes,” Hailey squeals. “I don’t need months. Just a few days.”
She rushes around the bar, but not before grabbing my hand and tugging me along. I barely have time to snag my glass. The wild woman corrals everyone around the rectangular table, basically assigning seats as she goes.
Of course, she puts me between her and Arlo.
It’s not that I don’t love being there. It’s that I love being there so much I’m scared to do the wrong thing and come between them.
Not two minutes in and a hand slides onto my thigh. It’s big and firm. More than that, the touch isn’t sexual as much as it is possessive in its grip. I don’t look because I don’t want to draw attention to it. Also, because I barely believe it myself.
My heartbeat ratchets too high for an at-rest reading.
A few moments later, Hailey’s dainty hand slides onto my other thigh.
Fuck me running.
I don’t know what the expression means really. I’ve never used it. This situation seems a perfect application, though.
While sitting there, with my heart expanding three times like the Grinch’s, Hailey organizes a trip to freaking Germany for all of us. She and Arlo. Me. Dobson and Karris. Astor and a plus-one. Celeste and her husband, if their parents can watch the kids.
Their newest will be almost one year old by that time. In fact, Cel isn’t back from maternity leave. This is her first outing without the baby, after her husband insisted she join us.
Hell, even Hard and whoever he wants to bring is invited. Arlo tacks on Natalia and her Frenchman too.
With her phone and one hand, Hailey finds an authentic lodge and things for the group to do while in Munich that don’t cause liver damage.
Just when I can breathe again, sandwiched between these two, Hailey checks her watch and grimaces. She looks across me to Arlo. “We have to go.”
He smiles at her with a big dopey smile and nods.
His hand squeezes my thigh and then releases me. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Hailey pecks my cheek, then Astor’s, waves at Celeste, and she’s up, rushing toward the exit…but just like she did with me earlier, she grabs Hard’s hand and drags him along with her. Arlo wishes everyone a great evening and brings up the rear of their new fucking throuple.
Sorrow, akin to witnessing a plane crash, assaults me. It uses brass knuckles and cheap shots, poking at my every insecurity.
Abandoned again.
No one loves you.
You’re not good enough for the Kido name.
That last one lights a fire in my belly.
Someone asks me something. I’m up and moving before I even register who it was or what they asked.
I take the stairs a flight at a time and land on the first floor, startling a server. Without a hint of concern for their well-being, I rush through the restaurant and catch Arlo’s arm before he exits the building.
Beyond I can see Hard following Hailey into the back of Arlo’s car.
“You two tired of me already?” My voice doesn’t betray the rage inside, boiling me alive.
Arlo’s brows scrunch. “It…It’s not like that.”
Hailey told me to take what I want. I draw a deep breath. “Then I’ll come with you.”
His shoulders fall, but his gaze stays on mine.
I grind my teeth.
“Hota?”
My fingers release him like he burned me. He fucking did. He is roasting me alive. I want to rage at him, to scream and to cry and to beg.
How dare you?
How dare you give me hope?
Even after everything, I can’t. No matter how much I hurt, the truth is the truth.
“I’m glad I could help you and Hailey.” Before he can say anything else, I turn away and weave myself to the back of the restaurant. I ignore the strange looks by the kitchen staff, shove out the back door, and head to my car.