10. Alex/Katherine
ALEX/KATHERINE
Alex
The Council of Bros
Alex: we need to talk. I have news.
Gabe: about?
Alex: Katherine.
Kingston: what’s the news?
Alex: Probably better to discuss in person. When can you two be home?
Gabe: I have a meeting in 5. Should be home by dinner.
A stack of pictures pops up next to King’s name.
The first one is of a gymnasium with a giant metal ring with a person standing in it.
The next photo is blurry, or rather, the person upside down in the ring is blurry.
The last shot is of a grinning Kingston, his arm wrapped around the hoop, looking like he’s having the time of his life.
Kingston: Cyr wheel practice is over at 4:30. Should I duck out early?
What the hell is a cyr wheel?
The SUV slows to a stop, and I glance out the windshield to find traffic snarled. My fingers flex against my thigh as my patience snaps taut like a rubber band. I take a deep breath and count to five. There’s nothing productive about losing my temper.
Massaging the ache in my forehead, I mentally remind myself that Gabe and King don’t know what I know about Lucinda Winthrop or about life.
Lucky for them, they’ve never lost their sister to a fucking creep. Not everyone has the same protective instincts I do. And I can’t keep Katherine in bubble wrap, no matter how much I might want to.
She’s with Roman, and he’ll keep her safe.
Alex: It’ll keep.
Then I open my web browser and type cyr wheel into the search bar.
Katherine
“Can I get you anything?” Destiny asks from the kitchen.
I survey the walk-in pantry, looking for a snack because that salad did not do it for me. Something sweet and carbalicious will make that train wreck of a lunch better. That and a bubble bath.
I’ve never had an afternoon bubble bath.
There’s a momentary drip-drip-drip of woe-is-me rich girl pity, but I shake it off. From now on, I’m taking the afternoon bubble bath, and the world can fuck right off.
“You know—” I turn and find her hovering outside the door, curious but patient. “Would you think terribly of me if I said a glass of Chardonnay?”
Her lips twist and then pull into a smirk. “Not in the slightest. Coming right up.”
My shoulders relax. A judgment-free zone is a precious thing.
Maybe that’s why I like Roman so much. He was more concerned that he’d failed to protect me from Tyler than wondering what I’d done to cause Tyler to come after me like that. Without missing a beat, he’d apologized, promised to keep a closer eye on my ex in the future, and gotten me home safely.
I turn and snag the colorful box of cereal that promises sugary goodness and crunchy marshmallows. Just go with it. It’s delicious.
I find Destiny adjacent to the dining room at a small wet bar, pouring a pale wine into a glass. It’s a generous pour, and I want to hug her for that. But I don’t. That’d be weird. She hardly knows me.
So I smile and thank her and resist the urge to explain my chosen snack.
“I’m going to pop out for a few more last ingredients for dinner,” she says.
“Will it keep ’til tomorrow?” I ask.
“Sure.”
“I was just thinking it might be nice to order takeout and rot.”
“Sounds fabulous. If you don’t need anything else, I’ll wrap up the kitchen and get out of your hair.”
A woman who can take a hint. I can see why Gabe hired her.
“Thank you.”
Upstairs, I wander through the rooms. Whoever Gabe’s friend is, he has great taste. Well, he and his designer.
We didn’t really discuss sleeping arrangements, and my more optimistic side half expects Vic to text me at any moment with word that I can go home.
“Optimistic, but not realistic,” I murmur to the empty bedroom. Which is okay. My current reality is lovely.
Setting my things on the edge of the massive tub, I turn on the water and realize I only have the toiletries I bought in Paris. No bubbles, no salts for when I hit the gym too hard.
I open the cabinet to the right of the sink. “What are the chances this guy has—oh thank god.”
There’s a chubby jar of what looks like Epsom salts. My heart lifts, and I reach for the bottle, cracking the cork topper. “Vanilla and lavender. Win.”
A smaller bottle catches my attention. Bath foam. I twist off the cap. Coconut and something fruity. Now we’re talking.
I pour a generous amount into the tub, and a thick foam bubbles up, perfuming the air. Bath time is saved. Time to get naked.
Admiring the rich wood of the closet, I strip out of my clothes. Would it be big enough for all of us? Alex doesn’t strike me as a clothes hog. Gabe, on the other hand... I feel like he could get out of hand quickly now that he’s met Kingston.
The thought of them together, shopping, dressing each other, dressing me, makes me smile. We could get into some serious trouble in this closet. On the island. Or the padded bench.
Back in the bathroom, the tub beckons, fragrant bubbles settling on the surface. I sit on the edge, testing the water temperature. Next to me, my phone chimes. I roll my eyes but reach for it anyway. As my hand closes around the cool metal and glass, I pause. Why do I always make myself available?
It’s a bad habit, but that knowledge doesn’t stop me from navigating to my texts.
Amelia: Mom says you’ll be staying with us for a while. Looking forward to some sisterly bonding.
I squint at the phone. That does not sound like the teenage girl I know. Sisterly bonding? I snort.
My mother is pulling out all the stops.
Katherine: Sorry to disappoint. I’m staying with a friend.
Three dots immediately appear, then disappear. I can almost imagine my mother fuming, Amelia’s phone in hand, my half-sister hovering, demanding her phone back. Maybe even grabbing for it. Will she ever wake up and see our mother’s true colors?
Blowing out a sigh, I step into the tub and sink into the bubbles. That’s not a concern I’m going to entertain at the moment. Putting my phone on the edge of the massive tub, I drop my head back and stare at the ceiling.
What a wild week. A wild, wonderful week.
It’s been rather delightful to cancel all my meetings and appointments and boring business dinners.
I wonder how long it’ll take for the board to regret their decision.
My guess? By the end of next week. How quickly a bunch of stick-up-the-rump old men forget who I am and what kind of blood runs in my veins.
They saw the picture of me and Kingston and suddenly realized I’m a woman. I guess that means I was just too good at my job.
I lift my right hand out of the water and blow the tuft of bubbles into the air. They swirl, spiral, and plop back into the bath. There’s something poetic there. Almost prophetic.
Before I let myself go down that particular train of thought, I reach for the bodywash and lather up my hands. It feels like silk against my skin, and my nervous system breathes a sigh of relief. Peace, quiet, me, and the bubbles.
Like so many late nights before, I tease my nipples with my thumbs and then coast a hand down my belly. Closing my eyes, I let the remnants of the world melt away and drift to a place where I’m happy, desired, sated.
Teasing a finger along my slit, I imagine it’s one of my guys.
One of my guys! My brain scream-whispers, because what is this life?
I smile as a shaky shudder quakes through me. At some point, they’re going to come back to this borrowed brownstone, and I’ll be surrounded again. Protected, teased, pleased. And still terrified to voice what my heart wants more than anything.
What a beautiful vision. Surrounded by the people I like most. The people who love me and aren’t afraid to show it.
The daydream stutters and wobbles until I remember the way Gabe sought me out when I got back from France, straight up the stairs and into my arms.
My skin heats at the memory, and there’s a new slickness between my thighs that has nothing to do with the lux bubble bath and tub full of hot water.
Footsteps echo across the hardwood in the bedroom. Measured and powerful. Giddiness fizzes through my veins, and I hold my breath, sure Alex will find me.
I know the instant he enters the room. Even with my eyes closed, I feel his attention. My skin prickles with awareness, and my nipples harden.
When he doesn’t speak, doesn’t reach for me, I glance toward the door.
Good grief, he’s handsome. He watches me with a barely there but oh-so-amused smirk gracing his lips. With one hand in his pocket, he leans against the door frame, taking up so much space.
My body softens, needing him like I need air.
“Are you going to stand there and watch, or are you going to help?” I tease.
He straightens and steps forward. Off goes the suit jacket. Of course, he hangs it on a hook because this is Alex, and as much as he likes being wrapped around me, he also likes to make me wait. And he’s nothing if not tidy.
Next go the buttons. One by one, revealing his honed chest and that dusting of dark hair. I can’t wait to feel it against my skin. That stubbly scruff on his jaw, too. I grin because I’ve upset his careful schedule. He gets to bed late and wakes up early these days because of me.
Once he’s kicked off his shoes, slipped out of his trousers, and peeled off his socks, he approaches the tub in nothing but boxer briefs. But try as they might, they can’t contain the epic bulge stretching the fabric.
Reaching out, I slide a hand up his thigh, leaving a path of bubbles. His muscles twitch beneath my touch. He reaches down, catches my wrist, and gives me a squeeze.
Turning, I tuck my legs beneath me and reach for the elastic around his chiseled hips. He gives Kingston a run for his money in the Greek Statue Contest.
As I tug them down his legs, his cock springs free, and he sucks in a breath. With the boxer briefs at his ankles, he steps free and kicks them away.
I grin at his impatience and beam when he steps into the tub.