Chapter Twenty-One
Twenty-One
Reece
“Shit,” I mumbled under my breath, holding one shirt then the other against my chest.
Someone once told me the Henley shirt was the top equivalent of gray sweatpants, and I’d held on to that, loving the way the thin material stretched tight over my broad chest.
I knew Cyrus was a fan of that, too.
Since my near-death experience and slight emotional breakdown, things had been going great between us. I could be vulnerable around Cyrus in a way that I couldn’t with other people. I didn’t have to hide my thoughts or feelings.
He felt safe.
There was no way we could do this forever, and I’d never ask him to. We’d have to go public with our relationship soon. But for now, I was content to keep what we had between the two of us.
I wanted to savor this period where we wouldn’t have to answer any questions or deal with judgment.
I’d changed, and Cyrus was the driving force behind that.
I grabbed my phone and sent him a text.
Reece: I need your help. I don’t know what to wear.
I laughed to myself because there I was, asking someone who didn’t wear clothes for fashion advice.
Cyrus: Send me pics.
I held up one shirt, snapped a pic, then repeated it with the other before sending them over to Cyrus.
Cyrus: Yeah, but send me one without the shirt in the way. Shirts are optional for boys’ night.
I snorted and rolled my eyes. Gods, he was such a horny fuck.
Tonight would be my first time over at the apartment Cyrus shared with Fallon and would be our first time around a large group of people since we started hooking up.
I was nervous but also excited. Tonight, I was going to be the one teasing Cyrus.
When I was finally dressed, my beard freshly trimmed, and my hair pushed back in that messy way Cyrus liked, I grabbed my keys and typed out a quick text.
Reece: Leaving now. See you soon.
I stared at my phone for a second. Would adding a kiss emoji be too much? I mean, we kissed in person. We did more than kissing in person.
Fuck it.
Reece: Leaving now. See you soon.
Cyrus: See you soon, darling.
Darling.
I could feel my cheeks heating like they did every time he called me that. I wasn’t used to pet names or being with someone who made me feel things.
It was at that moment I realized this was something different. That what Cyrus and I had was real.
And I was thrilled about it.
—
“Yooo. Look who’s here.” Fallon whistled and clapped me on the back as I stepped into the apartment.
Gods, he was such a fucking frat boy.
I could tolerate him for Atlas and Cyrus, but I’d never go out of my way to hang out with him one-on-one.
Jimenez was enough for me.
Speaking of Jimenez…
“Yooo!” he shouted from inside the apartment, raising his beer at me when I came into view.
“Hey.” I gave him a slight tip of my chin.
I scanned the apartment, taking in its high ceilings and exposed brick walls. When I pulled up to the building, I knew it was going to be fancy, but this was nicer than I’d expected. Cyrus had to be footing the bill because there was no way Fallon could afford this on what he made at the gym.
My—whatever Cyrus was to me—the artist.
Speaking of art, the walls of the apartment were covered with paintings.
Most of them were done with muted colors, but there was one that really caught my eye.
It was a nature scene with a bright orange sun rising over a shimmering body of water.
It reminded me of the morning Cyrus and I had spent together down by the lake several weeks before.
The morning where I’d almost drowned and then confessed my feelings for him.
“Cy painted that one a few weeks ago. It’s good, isn’t it?” Fallon asked, and ruffled his feathers.
I nodded, smiling to myself.
Cyrus was a shithead. Keeping these from me.
I wondered what other secrets he had.
“You want a drink, Reece?” Fallon asked with his head buried inside the fridge. “Atlas mentioned you don’t like booze, so I had Cyrus pick up some seltzers and he made this fancy mocktail thing.”
I fucking lived for mocktails.
And Cyrus knew that.
“I’ll try the mocktail, thanks.” I glanced at the living area before I took a seat at the kitchen island. “Where are Atlas and Cyrus?”
Jimenez joined me and leaned against the island. “They’re out on the terrace. You gotta ask for a tour, man. This place is fucking nice.”
“That’s all Cyrus. This place is way outta my price range,” Fallon said as he poured my drink. He held the pitcher with the scaly skin of his talons.
Shit.
He was pretty fucking good with those little chicken hands.
Fallon passed me my drink and made his way around the island. “Let’s head out to the terrace.” He said “terrace” in an awful British accent, obviously mocking Cyrus for the way he said it.
I knew he was trying to be funny, but it still made my fist clench.
Jimenez and I followed Fallon across the living room and through wide sliding glass doors that led outside.
The sun was setting, bathing the terrace that overlooked Briar Glenn in warm orange light. Atlas leaned against the railing, his muzzle scrunched up as he let out a barking laugh at something Cyrus said.
Cyrus.
Hearing that smooth British accent sent shivers down my spine.
He looked in our direction as we walked out onto the terrace, and when his gaze connected with mine, his mouth parted into a wild smile.
He was so fucking handsome.
Not in the traditional sense, sure, but in a way that was attractive to me.
The angular planes of his face, his soft translucent fins, the musculature of his body, his bright coloring, and those tentacles.
Nothing would ever compare to those tentacles.
“Hey there,” Atlas said, extending his hand out to me.
I was expecting a handshake, but he pulled me in for a tight hug.
Holy fuck, he was strong.
I was shocked he hadn’t accidentally suffocated my sister with one of his hugs.
“Hello, Reece.” Cyrus’s voice was so calm, it practically bordered on a purr. I watched as he brought his mocktail to his lips and winked at me.
That fucker.
And I’d been so sure that I’d be the one who would be doing the teasing.
The five of us sat on the fancy—or “posh,” as Cyrus called it—outdoor sectional, drinking and shooting the shit.
I was surprisingly relaxed—until Atlas brought up the triathlon.
“How’s tri training coming along, Reece?” Fallon asked, leaning forward in his seat. “I know you and Cyrus have been hitting it pretty hard.”
Atlas glanced over at Cyrus, and I could have sworn he smirked, but it passed too quickly for me to be sure.
Was he onto us? I knew there were cameras in the gym, but the locker room and showers were safe. There was no way Cyrus would have mentioned to him what was going on between us without bringing it up to me first.
“There’s, what—a month left until the race?” Atlas asked.
Gods, Atlas. Way to remind me.
Cyrus chimed in before I could answer. “Yeah, a month. Reece is going to do great. He’s come a long way. A few more open-water swims and he’ll be set.”
I fought to school my expression. I didn’t want to give anything away, but knowing that Cyrus believed in me made my heart sing.
“We’ll all be there to cheer you on. I think your mom and your sister are making shirts for everyone.” Atlas wiggled his ears.
I choked on my drink. “Are you fucking serious?” I coughed.
“Mm-hmm, it’s true. Selene was telling me all about it,” Jimenez said with a laugh.
“S-Selene?” Fallon gave Javier a sideways glance.
“Yeah, my sister. She’s one of Tegan’s best friends,” Jimenez said while absentmindedly scrolling through his phone.
“I thought Declan was Tegan’s best friend.” Fallon tapped his talons against the armrest of the sectional.
Jimenez shrugged and kept scrolling. “I don’t know, man. They’re all close. They have sleepovers and shit all the time. Well, at least they did before Atlas came into the picture.”
“Trust me, they’re still around all the time. But Tegan’s friends are my friends. Whatever makes her happy.” The tip of Atlas’s tail wagged ever so slightly.
He was head over heels for my sister. I felt like a jackass for ever being opposed to it.
While everyone chatted, I nursed my virgin mojito and did whatever I could to keep from staring at Cyrus.
He looked so good with the last rays of sunlight shining off his smooth skin.
His tentacles gently swayed as he spoke, like how you’d tap your fingers or bounce your leg, and each time Atlas told a joke or rehashed a funny story, he’d throw back his head with a laugh, like everything that came out of his friend’s mouth was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.
“I, uh, I gotta take a piss,” I said, setting my drink down and rising off the sectional with a groan.
“Oh, I can show—” Fallon started to say, but Cyrus cut him off.
“I’ll show him where it is. I wanted to give Reece a little tour anyway.”
“That would be great.” I followed behind Cyrus.
We were both silent as we walked inside and down the hall to the bathroom. My body tingled with anticipation. Sitting across from Cyrus all night and not being able to touch him had been complete torture.
He came to a stop at the bathroom and leaned against the doorway while I walked inside. I watched as he leaned back, his pointed head peeking down the hallway, making sure the coast was clear before he slipped inside.
I was on him the moment the lock clicked, pushing him against the door and kissing my way down the finned column of his neck.
“You’re so fucking sexy, you know that?” I mumbled against his smooth skin while my hands slid over his back, down to where his torso ended and his tentacles began.
“Am not,” he whispered, and gripped my chin, forcing me to make eye contact with him. “Especially compared to you, you sexy fucking tease.”
His mating tentacle unraveled and massaged my cock through my shorts. It was the kraken equivalent to frotting, and I lived for every second of it.
I whimpered, thrusting my hips to meet his tentacle, and Cyrus let out a dark laugh.