Bonus Scene
Z IGGY
Kennedy's unfiltered laugh balloons in the dilapidated house and my attention unwillingly pulls toward him. He's shirtless, sweating, and my sanity can only handle looking for too long.
It's why I avoid it as much as I can.
Because once he has my attention, it's almost impossible to steal it back again.
He's teasing Hart about something I have no interest in--not that it's possible to have interest in anything when his back muscles are moving under his skin like that. I have a very, very big problem, and it's not a problem I plan on doing anything about.
Kennedy's presence is painful, like a well that’s been carved into my chest with infinite depths of pain. I'm torturing myself being here, but I'm drawn to him and I can't fight it because while it hurts, this is the most I've felt in years.
I know Kennedy, full of light and smiles and kindness, wouldn't look twice at a gremlin like me, but that doesn't matter. I'll admire him from a distance. Want. Yearn. Drive myself out of my goddamn mind. It's worth it for those small beams of sunshine he directs my way.
I huff at where my thoughts have strayed to and yank myself back to reality. I'm here to work. Not perv. Concentrating shouldn't be as hard as it is.
Pussy.
Loser.
Weirdo.
The old voices are frustratingly close to the truth and they've been getting louder than ever these days. It's one of the many reasons I've been showing up to work with the brothers because the alternative is sitting alone at home and letting those voices win.
At least if I'm obsessing over Kennedy, I'm not obsessing over my flaws, so I call that a win.
Probably.
"Hey ..."
I glance up at the familiar voice and watch as Wilde joins me. He looks as cautious as I feel to be here, but there's something lighter in his expression than I've ever seen before. His usually dark and stormy eyes look more like clouds right before the sun shines through.
"Hudson says you've been here a lot," he tells me, and I don't know how to respond to that. I won't say anything, not with the brothers here, but usually Wilde can read my expressions and I don't even know what one I want to wear.
Yes, Wilde, I know I'm here a lot.
Funny thing about working is that you have to work.
I'm unhealthily obsessed with torturing myself, thank you for noticing .
Instead of any of that, I give him a flat look like I don't know what he means.
He very nearly smiles, gaze flicking toward where Hudson has joined his brothers. The look he wears as he watches Hudson casts shadows over the well in my chest, and I can't stop from wondering what it would feel like to be looked at like that.
"He also says that you disappear whenever he shows up."
After he attacked me for bringing their tools back, it's a mystery why I'm not interested in spending time with him.
Wilde picks up on the distrust I send Hudson's way. "Yeah, I get it. He can be a hard man to like."
But not for Wilde, apparently. I search his gaze for the answers as to why he likes him.
Wilde shrugs, shifting like he's uncomfortable with the turn our conversation has taken. "I see past the asshole he tries to be. And I get it. The way things in our past shapes who we grow to be."
I'd know about that as much as anyone.
Wilde cuts off there with a shake of his bearded head. "Fuck talking about me. Are you ..." He checks we're not being overheard and I'm grateful given what he says next. "Still all hot over the other one?"
Instant regret over ever mentioning my crush to Wilde takes over as my cheeks burn. I scowl his way and it earns me a short laugh.
"So that's a yes."
"That's a shut up," I hiss so low Wilde's the only one who can hear me.
He laughs again and this time it gets the brothers' attention.
Hart's frowning at us both. "I didn't think you were allowed to do that."
Wilde and I exchange a confused look. "Do what?" he asks.
"Laugh. Be happy. Forget to scowl. Take your pick."
"Don't be an asshole," Hudson snaps, shoving his shoulder.
"Aww ..." Hart responds. "But I'm just trying to take after my oldest brother who I look up to so much."
"You forgot something." Hudson pretends to pull his middle finger out of his pocket.
"Trust me, I didn't." Hart's voice is thick with derision. "You never let me forget."
Wilde grunts. "I'll be outside."
He leaves and Hart and Hudson keep bickering, but I can't focus on them because Kennedy is heading my way.
He throws his thumb back over his shoulder and a half-hearted grin shifts his moustache. "These two, huh? Never ending."
He's not wrong.
"If you want, we can head next door to work. It'll be quieter there."
That's a common mistake people make. They think that just because I'm quiet, that I prefer it. There's nothing I hate more.
My gaze drifts to his brothers, and actually, there's one thing I hate more. Screaming and the anger that comes with it. Thankfully his brothers are just sniping at each other, but after Hudson shouting in my face that day, I don't think I'll ever get that image of him out of my memory bank.
Kennedy's still waiting on a response so I shake my head.
Up close, he feels even bigger than usual.
We're roughly the same height, or maybe he's a little shorter than me, but he's stocky with muscular arms and chest and a chubby belly.
The need to touch him rolls over me and I shove my hands into my pockets instead.
He rubs his chest, like he's suddenly self conscious. "Yeah ... bit sweaty. It's a hot day."
It's only then I realize that I'm shamelessly staring at him and he's picked up on it. I hurry to act like his sweat--and not his skin, muscles, nipples--is what I was focused on.
It is hot. I'd know since I'm wearing jeans. I pretend to sniff the air near him and pass out, but unfortunately it only gives me a good nose full of his scent and the musky, manly smell makes me weak.
"Hey." He laughs as he playfully backhands my stomach. "I'd like to see you haul all that lumber and not stink."
I pinch my nose.
"Asshole."
I cup my face like I'm breathing through a gas mask, and instead of it scaring him away, a spark lights up his eyes.
"What's that? You like how I smell? You want more?"
And before I know what he's doing, his arms close around me. Heat rushes from my toes to my scalp as Kennedy rubs his body against mine.
"Now who smells?" He laughs, chest pressed firmly to my back. "Ahh, Ziggy, you're so sweaty. And you stink. I'm going to pass out!"
I'm going to pass out if he keeps touching me. The contact has my every nerve humming to life, and his scent is making me lightheaded. Fresh sweat and sunshine heated skin isn't a combination I ever thought I needed in my life, but it's wrapping me in warmth and ...
Shit.
My dick is hard.
It's lucky he's behind me and can't feel it, but now my cheeks are burning for a completely different reason.
I will my cock to go down, but then Kennedy nuzzles his face into my neck and his bare skin flush against mine, the tickle of his moustache racing down my neck and along my shoulder, pumps lust into my veins so sickeningly fast I almost moan.
I playfully shove him away from me and grab my toolbox, almost upending the thing in the process.
Then I march right out the door.
My heart is fucking galloping in my chest, and the fact Kennedy has never met a thing called personal space is going to kill me.
"Ziggy?"
I don't turn around. Partly because I'm worried that as baggy as these jeans are, they're not going to hide the flag pole I'm waving at him, and partly because what the hell do I say? My cheeks are on fire which means they'll be flaming red, and I can barely force words with him on a good day.
Horny and worried about blurting out how hot he is definitely doesn't qualify as that .
I'm doomed to scramble home in disgrace and spend the rest of the day alone.
Like so many days since coming to Wilde's End.
I feel safe here, but more alone than ever.
Selfish.
Inconsiderate.
Spoiled.
Yes, Mom, I know .
My eyes fall closed against the voices and my dick finally starts to flag. Funny what bad memories can do for a guy.
Wilde's leaning against his truck, just watching the sky, but his gaze falls to mine as I storm from around the side of the house. "You okay?" he grunts.
I'm never okay.
I'm so, so close to telling him that.
But I force a smile and hold up the toolbox. "Done for today."
Then I turn my back on him before he can read the truth and head home .
I'll get through this.
I always fucking do.