Chapter 4
RENSHAW “REN” BOOTH
I slammed my head back against Shakira’s seat as I came to another fucking red light and groaned.
This was not the day to be hitting every red light in existence.
I was already a ball of nerves, muscles aching from how tense I’d been alone all night in my big bed.
I’d barely slept. My eyes burned to the point I was scared that if I closed them for too long, I’d nod off while driving.
Sleeping through all my fuckups was a talent of mine, but not when it came to Oliver and KC.
They had me wrapped around their little fingers.
My head was a fucking mess because of them.
My phone buzzed, and I picked it up from the cup holder to check. I had a message from an unknown number. I frowned and tapped the screen.
Unknown Number
Hey dickhead. It’s your brother. You know, the one whose life you were trying to ruin.
I snorted. Asshole.
Unknown Number
KC said we had to work our shit out. Come to Uncle Errol’s house tonight. You can meet him and his daughter.
Unknown Number
Bring KC and Oli. They love Errol. Be there at 6. We’re bringing out the smoker. And don’t be a shithead or I’ll kick your ass. Bring dessert or some shit.
I stared at the messages, my eyes eating up each word. They echoed in my head as I read them again and again until I wasn’t sure how I felt. I’d promised KC and Oliver that I’d make up with Luke, that we’d talk and work out our issues.
Someone blasted their horn behind me, and I jerked, dropping my phone back into the cup holder. Shit, the light was green. I hit the gas and focused on the road in front of me.
I hadn’t met Uncle Errol yet, but I’d heard a lot about him.
From Father, mostly. He had different views of the man than KC and Oliver did, that was for sure.
In the few times we’d talked about him, KC and Oliver raved about what an awesome guy he was and how he made them laugh.
KC mentioned how he blew shit up in his yard and it was a fun time.
Father, however, had always said how much of a delinquent he was.
“If you’re not careful, you’ll end up like your Uncle Errol,” he’d say, as if it was an absolutely shitty thing to be.
God fucking damn it. Father had a way of getting into my head, even though I was an adult and lived on the other side of the country.
He hadn’t called since I’d moved, but that wasn’t surprising.
I was the child who had disappointed him, above only Luke in the rankings of how much he liked his kids.
The fact that I’d become a tattoo artist was one of the many things he’d despised.
How would he feel about KC and Oliver?
I shook my head. I wasn’t going to let Father destroy a relationship from all the way in LA.
He’d ruined enough of my life, which meant I needed to get my shit together.
Oliver had shared something pivotal with me last night, and I’d shut down faster than a hooker who wasn’t getting paid.
I needed to get over my drama and stop being a loser around my men or they were going to leave.
I wouldn’t blame them.
By the time I pulled Shakira into the driveway at KC’s massive house, I was jiggling my knee nervously.
The last time I was here on Vert Island didn’t come with great memories, mostly because I’d fucked up the first time.
It was amusing, in a way, because my plan of getting revenge on Luke had barely gotten off the ground before I went and fell in love with these two adorable assholes.
Now I had to find a way to make them stick with me.
Luckily, I didn’t have to go up to the door.
KC and Oliver came out before I turned off Shakira, my magenta Mustang GT Fastback.
The sight of my guys made me pause. Oliver had on a pair of faded blue jeans that melded against his thighs, but it was his shirt—or KC’s shirt, I should say—that had my mouth watering.
KC’s football jersey hung loosely from his shoulders.
There was something sexy about Oliver wearing KC’s number fifty-two large and prominent on the front of the blue-and-white jersey.
NGU Riders stood out boldly above the numbers.
I lowered the window. “Turn around, Kitten. Let me see our boy’s name on your back.”
Oliver flushed and his eyebrows furrowed. I couldn’t help but grin at his angry kitten face. Still, he turned for me.
I groaned when the name “Beaumont” came into view, spread across his shoulders in ownership. My cock twitched, a blast of pleasure striking me and landing straight in my balls. Warmth spread through me, joining the desire that roiled there. “Fuuuuuck.”
KC smirked, clearly aware of exactly what he’d done by putting Oliver in his jersey. “He looks sexy this way, right?”
“So fucking sexy.” I licked my lips, ready to get my tongue on Oliver any way I could. It was a shame they had classes today or I’d drive them home so I could spend some quality time with them on my dick.
“I want to get in the back,” KC said, and I raised my eyebrows as I slid out of the car and yanked my seat forward, giving him room to slide in.
I watched the way his ass flexed in his jeans and how his black T-shirt with a vintage motorcycle print rode up, giving me the delicious treat of smooth, creamy skin. My mouth watered for a taste.
Oliver scrunched up his face but didn’t argue as he went around to the passenger’s seat.
Once we were all in the car, I reversed Shakira and headed in the direction I’d come, more than a little glad I didn’t have any run-ins with KC’s pa.
I didn’t need to give him another chance to throw me through a glass coffee table.
“Talk,” KC said bluntly from behind me. “What you did last night was shitty.”
I bit back the urge to snap aggressively.
What he said was true, but it was in my nature to defend myself, and it took every ounce of my willpower not to say something stupid.
I wasn’t fucking perfect, far from it, and now I had to prove to them that I was trying.
It was in my personality to shut down and add a cold, hard wall between me and people, but that was what got me in trouble in the first place.
Fuck. I didn’t know how to do this. How to be in a relationship.
Oliver looked at me, fiery brown eyes equally defensive and sad, and I knew I had to tuck my defenses deep behind my rib cage where they couldn’t be found. Oliver deserved the best version of me. So did KC.
“I don’t know how to do this.” I clenched my teeth. “I don’t do relationships.”
KC’s hand landed on my shoulder, and I jumped. My sleeveless white muscle shirt meant we were skin to skin, and he always had a warm, comforting touch.
“Talk.” KC raised his eyebrows. “I know it’s hard, but you need to tell us why you acted the way you did, how you were feeling.
If you want this to work, Ren, you need to help us understand you.
We’ve barely known you for a month, and the first few weeks feel like a lie.
You dated us to get revenge on Barber. So, give us the real Ren, the one who makes us laugh and smile. Tell us what’s happening in your head.”
How was he so smart? I had years on him, but I felt like a real rookie.
“Oli was hurt by your reaction,” KC said, firmness in his tone.
It always warmed me how protective KC was, especially when it came to Oliver.
There was no doubt Oliver could defend himself.
I’d seen his claws when I’d chased him in the alley the week we’d first met, but he was also soft and gentle.
There was a reason I’d given him the nickname Kitten.
“I know and I didn’t mean it.” I winced. “Well, I did, but not in the way you think.”
I really, really sucked at this. It didn’t help that I had no healthy relationships to use as role models.
My parents barely talked on a good day. My sister and her husband were as cold as ice and never touched each other.
My brother had married his high school sweetheart and treated her as though her role went as far as a mother and housewife.
None of my friends were married or had partners.
They were the kind of guys who ran wild.
“I’m mad at myself, okay?” I watched the road as we passed over the bridge toward the city, twisting my hands on the steering wheel.
“You didn’t tell us you were a virgin, and I was rough with you.
I hurt you. Not even the sluttiest of sluts handle my piercings well unless they love pain.
And the first cock you got was mine with my piercings.
And now I’m pissed you didn’t tell me you were a virgin because I’m an asshole, but not that much of an asshole, you know?
I would’ve been gentler on you. For fuck’s sake, Kitten, you should’ve told me. ”
Oliver made his angry kitten face again. “I didn’t tell you because you were acting like a dick. You would’ve made fun of me.”
I wanted to deny it, but there was a chance I might’ve. At that stage, I’d enjoyed pissing Oliver off and he hadn’t been my main target. But still, I liked to think I wouldn’t have hurt him purposely.
“Maybe,” I admitted, and the confession was acid on my tongue, especially when Oliver looked at me with an expression that tore my heart out and stomped on it.
“Listen, Oliver, I am an asshole. A dick. A prick. Whatever you want to call me. I can’t promise I won’t fuck up and make mistakes.
I’m not great at this whole feelings thing.
” I huffed out a breath. “But I’m trying because I want to be with you and KC.
I love you both. You dropped this on us last night and I got a little freaked out, you know?
I hate how I hurt you the first time we fucked. ”
Oliver’s cheeks flushed and he buried his face into his palms, bent in half so he could hide farther between his knees. “It’s fine. I enjoyed what you did.”
But it wasn’t fine, not as far as I was concerned. The last thing I wanted was to become a selfish asshole like Father.