3. Kelsey #2
Before I can fire back, his gaze drops, lingering on the cropped shirt hugging my torso, the high-waisted shorts that show off my legs and just a sliver of skin above my hips.
His expression darkens, the smirk slipping into something far more intense. "You're going out dressed like that?"
I glance down at myself, smoothing a hand over the soft fabric of my shirt. "What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing." The word is a growl, almost a warning. "It's just cold outside."
I open my mouth to argue—because hello, I'm not a child—but he's already moving, reaching for the jacket draped over the back of a chair. He holds it out, his fingers brushing mine as I take it, and the contact sends a jolt up my arm.
The leather is buttery soft, worn in all the right places, and it smells like him… cedar and something smoky, like a bonfire on a crisp night.
"This is going to ruin my outfit."
Kyler's mouth twitches. "Change your outfit, then."
"Fine," I say, "I'll just deal with it." I huff, slipping my arms into the sleeves. The jacket swallows me whole, the hem hitting mid-thigh, the sleeves dangling past my wrists.
He doesn't answer, just watches as I adjust the collar, the leather creaking softly under my fingers. The weight of it is oddly comforting, and I can't help but burrow deeper into the warmth.
The garage door swings open before I can say anything else, and Kieran strides in, the silver at his temples catching the light.
His copper hazel eyes lock onto me immediately, sharp and assessing, like he's cataloging every detail…
from the way Kyler's jacket dwarfs me to the way my fingers twist in the hem.
"What time will you be back?" His voice is calm, controlled, but there's an edge to it, something unspoken humming beneath the surface.
I adjust my bag on my shoulder, the strap digging into my palm. "Late."
His jaw tightens. "How late?"
I shrug, trying to play it off. "I don't know."
"I'll pick you up after work." It's not an offer. It's a command, delivered with the kind of certainty that makes my pulse kick up a notch.
I shake my head, already bracing for the argument. "No need. It's fine. I can get home myself."
Kieran's eyes narrow, just a fraction. "I didn't ask whether you could."
My fingers curl into fists at my sides. "Kieran."
Kyler steps in before I can say anything else, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Where are you going?"
"Just hanging out with friends. Dinner after." The words come out too fast, too defensive, and I can see the way his eyes flicker, like he's already piecing together something I'm not saying.
"I'll pick you up at ten," Kieran says.
I blink at him. "What if I'm not done by then?"
"Then you say goodbye," Kieran says, his voice dropping into that low, dangerous register that makes my stomach flip.
Kyler nods, his gaze never leaving mine. "Keep your phone charged."
"Don't walk anywhere alone," Kieran adds, his voice rough. "If plans change, call one of us."
I can't help it… I laugh, the sound bubbling up before I can stop it. "You two know I'm an adult, right?"
"Yes." Kieran's answer is immediate, unapologetic.
"Then why are you acting like I need a security escort?"
Kyler's expression doesn't change, but his voice is firm. "We're just making sure you're safe."
I bristle, my spine straightening. "It's fine."
Kieran raises an eyebrow, just one, the silver in his beard glinting as he tilts his head. "Is it? You never know."
I point at him, my finger shaking just a little. "Don't start."
His mouth twitches, like he's fighting a smile, but his eyes are serious. "Be careful."
"I will."
"Call when you get there," Kyler says, his voice leaving no room for argument.
"Okay." The word comes out softer than I intend, and I clear my throat, trying to regain some semblance of control.
Kieran's gaze flicks over me again. "Are you going to be drinking?"
I shrug, trying to play it cool. "Maybe. I don't know."
"Don't drink too much." Their voices overlap, Kyler's rough and Kieran's smooth, but the message is the same.
I roll my eyes, but my cheeks are warm, my pulse thrumming in my throat. "Yes, Daddy."
I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. The silence stretches, taut as a wire, and suddenly the jacket feels too heavy, the leather too warm against my skin.
The words hang in the air, thick and heavy, and for a second, the kitchen is so quiet I can hear the hum of the refrigerator, the distant tick of a clock somewhere in the house.
Kyler's mouth twitches, like he's fighting back a grin, while Kieran just stares at me, his eyes dark, unreadable.
My fingers fumble with the door handle, and I yank it open, the cold air rushing in to meet me. "Okay, I'll go now."
Kyler's low chuckle follows me out, but I don't look back. I slip through the door and pull it shut behind me, the latch clicking into place with finality.
The moment I'm on the other side, I press my lips together, biting back the laugh that threatens to spill out. My breath fogs in the crisp air, and I wrap my arms around myself, the leather of Kyler's jacket creaking softly.
They're both completely ridiculous.
But somehow, beneath the irritation, beneath the frustration, there's something else… something warm and fluttery unfurling in my chest. I shake my head, trying to dislodge the idea, but it clings to me, stubborn as ever.
I don't mind they're like this.
Not even a little.