Vega
SIX WEEKS LATER
I wasn’t sure what hurt more, my head or my feet. After waking up at five that morning to study for a final, I then walked to work and pulled a double. My smile kept the tips flowing as I took orders and served up the greasy trash my boss called cuisine.
All I wanted was three ibuprofen, a hot shower, and a meal that didn’t come from a to-go container or a ramen packet. Stepping out of Frank’s Diner, I slung my backpack over one shoulder and turned for the bus stop that was two blocks down.
Before I made it a dozen steps, an expensive SUV pulled up beside me and honked. I glanced over, and my glare quickly faded when the window rolled down and I saw the darkly delicious man sitting in the driver’s seat.
“How about a ride, mo réiltín?”
“Kane!” I squealed, running over and opening the passenger’s door.
Climbing in, I threw my arms around his neck, hugging him hard.
His scent wrapped around me as he folded my body against his.
My feet still hurt and my head was thumping, but it no longer mattered.
I hadn’t seen him in four days, hadn’t seen Ryder in two, and I’d missed them both so badly it had become a physical ache.
For several long moments, Kane didn’t move.
He just sat there, his thickly muscled body stretched over the center console, his face buried in my neck.
He skimmed his nose up and down my flesh, leaving a trail of goose bumps that morphed into a shiver along my spine.
When he reached my shoulder, right above the collar of my work T-shirt, he pressed an openmouthed kiss there.
Little sparks zapped along every nerve ending inside my body, and a gush of burning heat pooled in my core, soaking through my panties. Biting the inside of my cheek, I attempted to hold back the pleased little whine that wanted free.
I hugged him tighter, a dozen scenarios playing out in my mind that should have made me feel ashamed.
Kane was my friend. In the short time I’d known him, he had been nothing but kind to me, never once crossing that invisible line that stood between us.
The one my heart had marked in the proverbial sand so I remembered that no matter how desperately my body ached for Kane—no matter how thoroughly invested my heart had already become with him—it was wrong to want my maybe-boyfriend’s coworker and friend.
Ryder and I hadn’t discussed what we were to each other.
Once, right after I’d left the group home for good and moved in to the small one-bedroom Ry had helped me lease, he had casually mentioned that when I was ready, we needed to have a chat about our relationship.
I’d taken that to mean he was ready for us to go from best friends to acknowledging the fact that we were soul mates.
Seven weeks ago, I would have been thrilled to have that talk with Ryder. Anytime, anyplace. It wouldn’t have even needed to be a full-on conversation. A simple, “You’re my girlfriend, I’m your boyfriend” statement from him would have been just fine.
But now that I’d met Kane, I was reluctant to broach the topic.
All the things I’d imagined a relationship being, what I’d hoped for when I was younger, were so much different from the reality of what I actually wanted.
Not just with Ryder. I wanted him—there was no question of that. It was that I wanted Ry and Kane.
Which was wrong. And unfair to both of the men I cared about. But…
I was starting to wonder if it was possible to have two soul mates. My heart kept whispering, yes, it was one hundred percent possible because I was already in love with Kane.
In that same, mind-twisting, body-melting, heart-racing way that I loved Ryder.
It was hard to put a label on what Ry and I were to each other.
Maybe-boyfriend was about as close to a description I could come up with for him.
He texted me at least ten times a day. Always starting my morning with a “Have a good day, little star,” and ending it with “Sweet dreams, Vega. Shine bright for me tonight. Love and miss you.”
He was forever finding reasons to touch me when we hung out.
Holding my hand for no reason, brushing my hair back from my face, giving me a flirty tap on the ass when he walked behind me.
But he hadn’t kissed me yet. I’d figured that once I’d turned eighteen and finally left the group home where the rules were military-strict, there would be nothing to hold him back.
But if anything, he seemed more restrained in his caressing touches now than before I’d become a legal adult.
Kane touched me in the same ways. Skimming his fingertips over any bare patch of skin that caught his eye.
Lifting my hand to place a kiss to my palm or lightly brushing his lips over my knuckles.
Anytime we were seated beside each other, he reached for my hand, entwining our fingers and keeping them firmly on his thigh—sometimes for hours.
Both my guys were openly affectionate with me, especially behind the closed door of my new-to-me apartment.
Inside my home, they amped up the flirting and the panty-melting touches until I was ready to beg them to kiss, touch, suck, and fuck me.
One, both…I didn’t care, as long as someone gave me a few incredible orgasms.
Honking traffic eventually separated us, and Kane shifted back slowly, like he had all the time in the world.
His evening scruff scratched against my skin as he lifted his head, pulling the smallest whimper from my throat.
Heat filled my cheeks, and I quickly busied myself fastening my seat belt so I didn’t see his reaction, afraid I might say or do something that would ruin our time alone together if he knew how much he affected him.
Once the belt clicked into place, he reached over, adjusting the strap so it was snug. He and Ryder always did that. No matter which one of them was driving, if I was in the front passenger’s seat, they double-checked that my belt was secure before shifting gears.
“I stopped and picked up a few groceries,” Kane said as he made a turn that would take us back to my apartment. “You mentioned craving comfort foods the last few days, and I thought I’d cook you a few of mine.”
With a grumpy rumble, my stomach announced that it was one hundred percent on board with that idea. His dark eyes shifted from the road to me. “Did you eat today, mo réiltín?”
“Of course I ate,” I told him with a smile that had his eyes narrowing.
“What did you eat?”
“Toast for breakfast. Fries for lunch. Grabbed a little soup on my break about two hours ago.” It was all the truth. I’d left out the exact quantities because they weren’t part of the question I’d been asked.
The toast had been the last slice of bread I’d had in my apartment, eaten completely dry because I was out of jam and butter.
Those fries, barely a handful, had been a few that were left over from a basket over the fryer that would have been tossed in the waste pile.
And the soup had been broth I’d put in a to-go coffee cup to keep it warm and sipped whenever I happened to have a moment to myself between running food to my customers.
I had bills that needed paying, and food was something that had always been scarce.
Even back in the group home, there was only ever enough for each of us to have a small serving of whatever was being offered.
Most days, that meant a few ounces of whatever meat was on offer, a grain, a vegetable, and some type of fruit option to meet state guidelines.
Nutritious, in theory, but the portion sizes rarely fulfilled the hunger that always seemed to linger.
Stopping for a red light, Kane grasped my wrist, pulling my hand up to his mouth so he could kiss it.
He did it so casually, as if it were as natural to him as breathing.
It was an intimate moment, yet not once had it ever felt awkward.
Kane touched me like I was meant to be his, and my body lit up every time in agreement.
It was my mind that was conflicted. I wanted him, wanted everything, every experience, every life goal to be with him.
And I wanted to experience it all with Ryder too.
Wanting, being with—loving—two men at the same time wasn’t right. Very few people would understand that kind of relationship. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I understood it.
“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he said as he sat there with his head tilted toward me, his eyes scanning me as he kept my hand pressed to his mouth.
“Are you blind?” I snorted a laugh. Without looking in a mirror, I still knew what a mess I was.
Limp flyaways had fallen from my ponytail.
Stains on my shirt and jeans. Blotchy face from being in the hot diner all day.
And then there was the smell. Fried foods, onions, and countless other scents had been absorbed by my clothes and soaked into my pores.
“I have perfect vision, mo réiltín. And right now, I’m looking at the most beautiful woman I’ve ever set eyes on.” He turned his gaze back out the window, driving through the intersection and then making a lane change that would take us to my street.
Driving time in this city was a game of chance. Walking and taking the bus were more convenient because the hassle of finding a parking spot that wasn’t blocks away was its own kind of nightmare. Yet Kane and Ryder never seemed to have issues when they drove to visit me.
Fifteen minutes later, we were inside my apartment.
Once all the groceries were unpacked, I excused myself to take a shower, mostly to give myself a moment to collect my thoughts.
He hadn’t just brought the ingredients for his favorite comfort food dinner.
He’d carried in at least thirty plastic bags, all of them containing basic pantry staples, along with many of my favorite snacks.
Kane Brennan was trying to take care of me.
Stocking my fridge, cooking for me, watching over me by driving me home after working a double so I didn’t have to walk on aching feet.
I would be lying if I said I hated it. Taking care of myself was something I’d done all my life.
Ryder had started doing it in little ways when we met, mostly because I wouldn’t let him do more, but Kane wasn’t subtle about it.
Where Ryder would anticipate certain things and fill the gaps where I allowed it, Kane simply made it happen and made no apologies about it.
While I was independent and happy to take care of myself, it was almost a relief to have someone step up and take charge.
Kane did it so smoothly, without drawing attention to the actions, leaving no room for me to feel small or humiliated.
I’d had a few more days’ worth of meals in my kitchen, mostly oatmeal and ramen, but I wouldn’t have starved.
Now, my fridge was stocked with fresh fruits, vegetables, and deli meats.
I had a freezer packed with not one but six pints of my favorite ice cream.
There was bread, butter, milk, jam, even those little snack packs of trail mix that fueled me between classes and study sessions or on my walk to work.
Tears stung my eyes. Some people would have made it feel like a handout, like they were doing something for me that they expected to be repaid at a later date.
Or that they could use against me in some way in the future.
Ryder would never do such a thing, but he also wouldn’t have stocked my kitchen so thoroughly.
He would have brought me a few bags at a time, under the guise of wanting me to cook for him, and snuck in a few extras.
Hair still wet, I walked out of my bedroom into the living room where Kane was setting out plates of food on my coffee table. He’d gotten comfortable while he cooked. His suit jacket was gone, the sleeves of his tailored button-down rolled up his forearms.
Biting my lip, I watched him move around my space like he belonged there.
Hearing me, he straightened, turning his head to give me a smile that quickly turned into something more.
His brown eyes traveled over me from head to toe, taking in the old T-shirt I’d stolen from Ryder when he’d still lived at the group home.
It was soft and mostly swallowed me, falling off one shoulder, while the hem hit mid-thigh.
I hadn’t bothered with a bra, but when his gaze paused on my chest and my nipples instantly pebbled, I wished I had.
Heat filled my cheeks, but Kane didn’t linger long enough to make it awkward. His gaze moved lower, as if he were mapping my body, even though it was hidden beneath the soft cotton. Reaching my legs, he sucked in a harsh breath, his hands clenching and unclenching for a long moment.
“I keep thinking there’s no way you could get more beautiful. Yet every time I look at you, I realize that’s the biggest lie I’ve ever told myself.”
I tugged at the hem of the shirt self-consciously. My eyes worked just fine, so I knew I was pretty. Ryder had been telling me I was gorgeous for years, and it always made my heart melty. But when Kane told me I was beautiful, I could hear the reverence in his voice.
It always went to my head, making me shy…and wet.
Kane crossed to me, taking one of my hands and pulling me close.
His other hand tipped my chin back, so I had to look up at him.
Jaw clenched, he traced his thumb over my bottom lip, his eyes bouncing back and forth over my face, watching for any sign that I didn’t want this.
His touch. His nearness. His scent filling my senses.
His head dipping lower. His breath on my cheek and lips.
His mouth pressing to mine, tasting, molding, owning.
Groaning, he cupped the back of my head, deepening the kiss. Fire rushed through me, starting in my core and blooming outward, leaving me feeling like a human flame. I kissed him back, letting him set the pace.
I’d never tried drugs before, but I wondered if this was what Ecstasy felt like.
Every inch of my body was ultrasensitive, hyperaware of each brush of his body against mine.
His hand tangling in my hair, how his scruff scratched my face, the way his teeth grazed over my bottom lip as the kiss turned hungrier.
It was too much, too good, but nowhere close to enough. I didn’t know kissing could feel this good.
With a tortured sound, Kane lifted his head. Breathing hard, he pressed his forehead to mine. “Food. You need to eat, mo réiltín. And then…”
“And then…?” I repeated, shy—hopeful.
“Whatever you want, Vega.”