22. Sina
“Here, Sina, let me take your plate,” Kiron offered.
I nodded, murmuring my thanks as he reached across me, his arm brushing mine before he stacked my plate with his. I settled back into my chair, warm and full in a way I couldn’t remember feeling in a long time.
“Man, that pasta was amazing. I’m stuffed.”
My gaze drifted across the table and caught Nik’s.
He looked completely at ease, arms crossed loosely over his lean chest. He’d taken his glasses off and set them beside his plate, giving me a clear view of his eyes.
They were darker than Harlow’s. Like the ocean at night instead of the sky during the day.
His golden hair had fallen slightly out of place, softer now than the perfectly styled look he’d had earlier, like cooking had loosened him up in more ways than one.
I liked seeing him like this .
I realized I’d been staring and quickly looked away from the infuriatingly sexy chef, grabbing my wine glass and taking a sip. Heat rushed to my cheeks, and if anyone asked, I’d be blaming it on the third glass of red I was currently nursing.
Harlow leaned in close on my left, his breath warm against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.
“That kiss was hot as fuck. I thought about it all through lunch.” As he spoke, his fingers came up, absently catching a loose strand of my hair and twirling it.
I was quickly becoming used to the action.
I rolled the stem of my glass between my fingers, watching the last sip of red slide along the curve.
“If I pretend to lose my mind too, will I get one?” he purred.
I chuckled, shooting him a sideways look. “I’m not sure that’s how emotional vulnerability works, Harlow.”
“ What? Why not? I’m pretty sure the saying is ‘fake it till you make it’, or something like that. ”
I laughed out loud this time, my head tipping back in surprise. “You’re incorrigible.”
His fingers gave the strand of hair one last lazy tug before letting it slip through them, his grin all sharp edges and trouble.
I lifted my glass, mostly to give myself something to do with my hands. This was a terrible idea . I tipped it back anyway, letting it burn slow on the way down. I never claimed to be good at decision making.
Flirting with the unhinged gothic man with a forked tongue at a dinner table full of other men? One I just kissed an hour ago. Bold . Questionable. Possibly fatal to my ability to think straight for the rest of the day.
I glanced at Harlow again. Those crystal blue eyes watched my mouth. I set the empty glass down with a soft clink, my pulse thudding a little harder than it had any right to.
Screw it.
“Do it then,” I said before I could stop myself.
“Are you being serious?” His brows shot up, eyes meeting mine in surprise before sliding into something lustful.
I liked that look.
My cheeks flushed, but I nodded anyway, deciding to be bold. “If I’m being honest… I’m a little curious about the forked tongue.”
For a second, he just stared at me. Then his smile changed.
Slower. Darker. He was pleased with my confession.
His hand rose, gloved fingers brushing lightly along my jaw.
I leaned closer. His eyes dropped to my mouth.
Mine tracked the slow movement of his tongue as it flicked out to wet his lower lip.
My pulse thundered in my ears. I tilted my chin waiting for him to close the gap between us.
He was close enough now that his breath fanned over my cheek.
The world shrank down to the space between us.
My breath hitched with anticipation. My thoughts went hazy.
Floaty . And then he stopped. Just hovered there. This evil glint in his eyes .
“When I kiss you for the first time… I want you begging for it darling.”
Then he pulled back like he hadn’t just turned my bones to liquid.
Asshole.
He reached for his tumbler, lifted it and tipped it back, and downed the rest of the bourbon in one smooth swallow all without breaking eye contact. His throat worked once before he set the empty glass down without breaking eye contact. Oh. That did something to me I did not have time to unpack.
Heat flooded my face so fast it made my ears ring. “Fuck you, Harlow,” I grumbled.
He nudged the empty glass aside. “That’s the plan.”
“Keep dreaming.”
“Oh, trust me, little vixen ,” he said, voice lazy and smug. “I already am.”
My mouth went dry. I crossed my legs under the table, trying to play it off like I wasn’t suddenly very aware of every inch of space between us. I sat there, dazed, heart racing, lips tingling from a kiss that hadn’t even happened. Heat crawled back up my neck as I remembered we weren’t alone.
Rafe sat across from us, quiet, watchful, his expression unreadable in that calm, steady way of his.
Beside him, Nik looked composed as ever, but his attention was very much on me.
And Kiron, at some point while I’d been busy internally combusting, had taken his seat again after taking our plates to the kitchen.
I was still pretending I hadn’t almost melted into the floor from embarrassment not even five seconds earlier when Kiron spoke.
“Did you get the flowers?”
The question hit me sideways.
Flowers?
My brain just… stalled. Like I’d stepped where there was supposed to be ground and found air instead .
Why was he asking me that? How did he even know about them?
My thoughts started to spin. Slow at first. Then faster. Like one of those teacup rides you can’t get off even when you’re already nauseous.
The table went still.
I glanced at Nik automatically, searching his face for something—guilt, amusement, anything to explain what the hell was happening. He was the only one who knew I’d gotten them.
Had he said something? Was this some kind of joke I wasn’t in on?
“Flowers… what ?”
My stomach dropped so hard I had to grip the edge of the table. The wine threatened to come back up.
Kiron shrugged like he had no idea I was seconds from spiraling into orbit. “I sent you the tulips. I thought you might like them.”
The room tilted. The note. Couldn’t stay away. K as in… Keith. It had to be Keith. Right? My pulse roared in my ears.
Not Keith.
Kiron.
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
My brain was doing full Olympic-level gymnastics trying to make that make sense.
“You sent them?” My voice came out thin and tight, like it had to squeeze past something sharp in my throat.
Kiron frowned slightly. “Did you not like them?”
“No,” I said automatically.
The silence that followed dropped like a stone.
Kiron flinched like I’d slapped him. He clenched his jaw tightly for a moment like he was debating something and once he made some kind of decision he pushed back from the table and stood.
“I’ll give you space then. ”
My mouth opened and closed as I scrambled for something—anything—to fix this. I wanted to explain myself, but doing that would only lead to more questions. Questions I wasn’t ready to answer. But logic lost to the sick twist in my chest.
“Kiron, wait!”
I caught up to him at the front door, reaching for his arm just as he got there. He didn’t turn to look at me, but he did stop.
That had to be a good sign… right?
I dragged a hand down my face. “Don’t leave. Please. Let me explain.”
He turned slowly to face me, expression guarded, expectant. My nerves lit up all at once and I bit my lip.
“I didn’t know they were from you.”
His brow furrowed. “You didn’t?”
I shook my head quickly. “I would have loved them if I knew, Kiron. I swear.”
He frowned again, dark eyes searching mine.
“Who did you think they were from, then?”
I was already shaking my head before he even finished the question. I knew he’d ask. It was only logical, and I didn’t blame him for wondering. That didn’t mean I was going to tell him.
His eyes narrowed slightly. “No what, Sina? No, you didn’t think they were from someone else? Or no, you’re not going to tell me?”
“It doesn’t matter who I thought sent them.”
Kiron let out a low, frustrated sound and turned back toward the door. He was still barefoot and shirtless, and it was freezing outside. I couldn’t just let him walk out like this.
“Kiron, wait! ”
He turned back so fast it startled me, and I gasped. His chest was rising harder now, jaw tight, something fierce and barely leashed flickering in his eyes.
“Tell. Me. Who ? I’m this close to losing my control, my little spitfire.” He growled, strained like he was holding something back by force. “I need something , Sina. Anything. ”
The air left my lungs. Not because he’d yelled.
Not because he’d stepped toward me. But because I’d heard that tone before.
Different man. My pulse roared in my ears, my body going cold and hot all at once.
My brain knew it was Kiron standing in front of me—not Logan—but my nervous system didn’t care.
It only knew danger used to sound like that.
I took a small step back before I could stop myself. And the second I did, something in his expression cracked. It was so unlike Logan’s hate-filled gaze I found myself wanting to reassure him.
“He used to leave things like that,” I blurted, the words spilling out before I could stop them.
Maybe I just needed to say it out loud. Maybe I needed to remind myself this was now, not then.
I didn’t know how to cope with my trauma but seeing it affecting someone else made me want—no, need to fix this.
“Logan. My late husband. He’d leave little gifts like that when he messed up.” I shrugged, like that explained everything.
But how did you explain ten years of abuse to a room full of men?
My gaze darted around the foyer, landing on the others standing not far away.
Watching me. Harlow had gone completely still.
His head tilted slightly, eyes darkening in a way that made my stomach flip.
Rafe stood just off to my left, his kind eyes calming my racing thoughts.
Nik stood at the entrance to the kitchen, arms folded over his chest, a hardness to his stare.
He didn’t speak. His expression was impossible to read but I felt as if he was judging me nonetheless and I hated it .
“He hurt you,” Ki said quietly, like he was confirming a fact he already knew.
I nodded, my throat suddenly dry.
Kiron went completely still. “I didn’t know,” he said immediately, voice rough, strained. “Sina, I swear, I didn’t know that.” He dragged a hand down his beard, eyes dark and furious. “I couldn’t get you out of my head. And I wanted you to know I was thinking about you. I’m not good at this.”
He gestured between us helplessly.
I believed him. And that hurt in a completely different way. A way that made everything twist inside me.
“I know. The flowers… I thought he found me,” I whispered, licking my dry lips. “I thought I wasn’t safe anymore. I thought—”
Silence dropped heavy in the foyer.
“Who?” Harlow demanded.
I shook my head, tears falling freely now. “Please don’t make me say it.”
I’d already shared more than I’d wanted to but I couldn’t just let Kiron think I didn’t want him. I couldn’t hurt him like that.
Harlow made a low sound in his throat—an animalistic growl that raised the hairs on my arms. Like he wanted to protest. To push me to answer.
“ Enough ,” Nik spoke calmly. He stepped forward and lifted my chin to look into his dark stormy eyes. “He will never come near you again, Sina.”
It was a promise and a verdict all wrapped in one and not at all what I was expecting from him. My throat burned. My face felt hot. Embarrassment crashed in, right behind the fading panic. God. They’d all seen me spiral.
The urge to flee won.
“I just—” My voice wobbled and I hated it. “I need a minute.”
Rafe was already moving, guiding me gently toward the staircase without a word. I didn’t question where he was taking me, just grateful he was there. Solid. Calm. Safe .
I gave the others a wobbly smile, not trusting myself to speak, and let Rafe lead me down the hall, the weight of everything pressing hard behind my ribs. The last thing I heard before we turned the corner was Kiron’s wrecked, low voice.
“I fucked everything up didn’t I?”
Rafe opened a door at the end of the hall for me. A bathroom. Exactly what I needed.
“Thanks, Rafe. I’ll be out in a minute, okay?”
I stepped inside, shut the door, and braced my hands on the sink, staring at my reflection as the night finally caught up to me. My chest still felt too tight, my thoughts too loud.
Hopefully I won't regret opening up to them.
I wished Ghost was here. All I wanted was to bury my face in his fur and pretend the last couple of hours hadn’t happened.