Chapter 22
OLI
KC led the way into his room on the first floor. I should tell him how amazing his pa was, since he’d known the second we’d stepped foot in the house that KC was upset without either of us saying a word.
I didn’t.
Drifting in a sad fog had made my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth. The door clicked as it closed, but we could still hear Barber ranting about Ren at top volume.
KC growled, which sounded nothing like him.
“No wonder Ren knew stuff about both of us. I was so stupid. I never got an answer to a few questions I had about him knowing you and how he just seemed to know stuff about us in general. He kept distracting me. Now I know. I wish I didn’t.
” KC’s jaw jumped. “No wonder he pointed out that I was a jock. He was telling me I was dumb without saying it specifically.”
“Oh, KC . . . .”
KC and I locked eyes. Someone had taken an ice cream scooper to my chest and removed all the important parts, and I wanted to curl into a ball on the floor.
There was a sheen in his dazzling blue eyes that made the amber flecks shine brighter than pieces of stained glass.
His sadness, which was so not him, made me want to throw up.
Barber let out an animal roar in the living room followed by “Why would my brother hate me? This is bullshit!”
There was a soft murmur that had to be Quain. The only reason we’d snuck past him was because Barber had immediately lost his shit the second he’d laid eyes on his boyfriend.
Barber shouted again, but this time the words weren’t quite as audible. More just an angry buzz, hornets in my ears.
I flinched hard, and KC set a trembling hand on my shoulder. His bottom lip wobbled, but the more he stared into my face, it firmed up.
“Let me just . . . .” He patted my shoulder, then tugged out his phone. An instrumental score swelled from speakers around the room, something soothing to drown out Barber’s ongoing tirade. He tossed his phone on his nightstand and sat down on the bed, face blank as a fresh canvas.
That wasn’t KC.
He was fun.
Bright.
Happy.
The change was shocking. He hadn’t even been this way when he was lying in a hospital bed begging us—mostly Ren—not to call his father.
Tears gathered in my eyes. My heart broke as another shout from Barber busted through the music. All this pain had come from less than two minutes of Ren ripping off the mask he’d been wearing.
It hit me how important Barber was to me as a sob broke free of my chest. I spent a lot of time mad that I didn’t really know my dad, but I’d had Barber, and I’d thrown him away like trash for a man who didn’t even want me.
Stupid.
I was probably as terrible at tattooing as I thought.
Tears trailed down my face. “PD always said my art wasn’t there.
Wasn’t ready for the tattoo gun. Was Ren telling me I have potential just to convince me to leave Barber’s shop?
” My dream was slipping through my fingers.
I wasn’t able to catch a single piece of it.
Ren had poisoned it all. The tears dripped off my chin, but I didn’t move to brush them away.
What was the point? There would just be more.
“No.”
“Why would you believe that?” I whispered.
KC shrugged and his eyebrows furrowed. “Because everything is going to be okay.”
“No, it won’t,” I croaked and crossed my arms. A watery laugh tore out of me. “It was dumb to think a guy like Ren would want me.”
KC frowned, and finally, a crack emerged in his stony facade. “I need you.”
My heart jolted, jump-started by his words. I stumbled over to him, and he caught me, steadying me. “Are you sure? What if you’re lying to me?” The hurt that swept across his face had me pawing at his shoulders. “Sorry.”
KC pressed his lips against mine, a warm brush that left my heart the slightest bit lighter. “I promise I need you. Now more than ever.” His voice cracked.
Sad music spilled into the room from the speakers, something that reminded me of stormy weather and graveyards, but that was fine. We were grieving.
He cupped my face, and a thousand awful emotions swirled into a heavy ball in my gut, but the longer he stared into my eyes, the warmer my cheeks became.
My hands trembled as I rested them on his solid pecs.
Our kiss was salty. His tongue eased inside my mouth, a gentle dance of teasing back and forth that thawed the ice in my veins.
Without Ren here, a strange shyness swirled through me as KC lifted the jersey—his jersey—over my head.
He spread his thighs, and I stepped into the puffs of air that slid across my collarbone before he pressed a light kiss to the center of my chest. The air conditioning kicked on and my nipples peaked painfully.
“Pretty,” he mumbled and thumbed my right nipple, then sucked it between his lips, delivering a sharp pleasure that landed in my stomach and had my dick kicking in my jeans. I arched my back and leaned into the wet heat while my abs flexed. Sizzling tension crawled through my body. “Damn.”
Ren had already conditioned me to expect—no, crave—pain with my pleasure. More tears dripped down my face. He wasn’t here to destroy me and never would be again.
“Bite,” I whispered.
KC popped off my chest, and I whimpered.
“Focus on me. We aren’t going to think about him.” Tears gleamed in his eyes, too.
“Let’s not lie to each other.”
His face crumpled, then smoothed out. A tear broke free and slid down his cheek, and my dick punched against my pants in response.
I didn’t want to make KC cry, but the tears were part of the swirl of sex in my mind, and thanks to Ren, on some level, I thought they should signal good things to come.
They should, but tonight, they didn’t.
Excitement burned hotter in my gut, but a bitter sensation slithered through me. I smiled while KC frowned.
“I’m never going to see tears again without thinking of Ren.”
“Sweetheart, come here.” He cupped the back of my head and drew me in for a harsh kiss.
I fell into it. If everything was going to remind me of Ren, even being with KC—which on its own would’ve felt like a moon shot a month ago—I might as well just do this.
KC was sad, too. If we electrocuted each other with our terrible feelings, perhaps we would come out the other side fried but alive.
His hands slid to my belt, and he leaned back to glance down as he unbuckled it.
“Do you think he always wanted to hurt us? Did he hope he would make me panic that night with the chair?” My heart thudded in my ears.
KC grimaced as my pants fell. He pushed my boxers down, and I kicked the clothes away. Despite everything—or who knows, maybe I enjoyed all pain? Emotional pain? Perhaps because of everything—my cock was rock hard and drooling.
He wrapped his hand around my shaft, and the surge of pleasure that fired through me had more tears pooling in my eyes.
He huffed. “Maybe? Ren took care of me, though. Why would someone who wanted to hurt me worry about my health?” His brow furrowed and I hated the way his breath caught.
“No fun breaking toys that are already trashed.” Even as I said the words, I knew they didn’t fit the concern I’d seen from Ren, but everything that happened earlier had me questioning my whole life.
Tears trembled on KC’s eyelashes and he shook his head.
“Baby? Let’s . . . . Like you said, let’s focus on us. We’re real, right?”
“Right.” KC’s lips twisted into a crooked half smile.
I wanted that spark of happiness, so I attacked his mouth, tried to consume whatever emotion had caused the gray clouds to part.
I bruised my lips on his, chased the bite of pain, but he softened our embrace and ran his hands up and down my back.
I was hard and dripping, and this was perfect and terrible and not enough and just too fucking much.
No matter how hard I sucked on his tongue or thrust into his mouth, he didn’t nip at me.
Anger began to build in my chest for wanting Ren when I had a sweet football god right here.
I clawed at KC’s clothes, and he helped me get rid of them.
A sense of accomplishment had me grinning as I tossed away his socks.
KC pulled me close and rolled me onto the bed on top of himself. His skin pressed to mine was soothing, and he was firm in all the best places. A tease of delicious tension spilled through me as I ground against his abs, smearing precum all over him.
Instinct took over, thank fuck. Some of the bullshit in my brain went silent as we got down to business.
KC spread his legs, and I slid lower, gliding my throbbing hard-on against his.
We were so ready for each other that we didn’t need lube to slick things up.
I rubbed against him until we were both a panting mess, but the stupid tears wouldn’t go away.
Sweat stung my eyes, but that only made things worse.
KC wrapped his arms around me and surrounded me, protected me from my doubts. Of course KC wanted me. He was here with me, and we were both miserable because of the same man. If that didn’t say he gave a shit about me, nothing did.
“Make me come,” I said.
He grinned, a peek of his real self. “You’re bossy when it’s just us.”
My heart plummeted. “Guess we should get used to it.”
He didn’t say anything, just held me tight and rutted his thick cock against mine. My entire body was on edge. I was straining for the top of the mountain when he licked his palms, then slid his hands between us and cradled our dicks.
“Oh!”
He chuckled, a low, rich sound.
One second, he squeezed. I was fucking a tight tunnel, my dick snug against the wet friction of his wood.
So good. So fucking good.
The next second, I was coating his fingers and cock with heavy bursts of cum.
My head rushed and my hips kept thrusting as I shouted.
The sensation that ripped through me was bold and released tension in my body.
He captured the sounds I made with his wet, open mouth and grunted as more slick heat covered my dick from his pulsing cockhead.
Time slowed to a crawl as adrenaline lifted my spirits before dumping me into a gaping chasm.
When I returned to reality, I was curled up on top of KC with his sticky hands on my lower back.
I didn’t even care that he was getting me messy.
I wanted him to touch me. Our musk was heavy in the air, and I wished I could absorb it into my pores so I would always smell a little like him.
Never have to really be alone.
The funeral dirge music played on. Neither of us moved.
KC brushed a kiss to my temple. “Are you doing all right?”
I shrugged. “Who’s to say?”
He slid his hand down to my ass. “I think I love you.”
“That’s a problem.” I hid my face against his neck, and his pulse fluttered beneath my closed lips.
He tensed under me. “Why?”
“Because I love you. But I think I love that asshole, too.”
KC shook and cried for both of us, which was good because my tears had run dry.