Page 84 of Give Me Peace

“Where’s Kash?”

Shit.

Chapter Forty

Saylor

It took us the better part of an hour to find Kash last night. He was squished beneath my bed with ear buds in, an explicit audiobook blaring through them—loud enough to be heard from several feet away—passed out with a sucker hanging from his mouth. Krew had to drag him out by his feet since we couldn’t reach the headphones to turn the volume down. It startled him so much, he jolted awake and smacked his head on the metal frame of my bed. Now him and Havok have matching bruises.

I’m certain when Lochlan and I finally crashed it was just the two of us. I’d fallen asleep with my face buried in the base of his throat, breathing in the faint traces of his expensive cologne while he held me closely. But there’s a distinct weight behind me now, even though I haven’t moved once throughout the night and Lochlan and I are still chest to chest. I feel like I’m being baked alive from the amount of body heat being produced beneath the thin duvet covering us.

“Tell me, Kade,” Lochlan grumbles sleepily. “Does that feel like Saylor’s leg to you?” Havok jerks his hand away, shaking it off like he can rid the appendage of cooties.

“Ew, fuck,” he swears, disgust dripping from his scratchy voice. “Let’s not make this a thing. I was unconscious, asshole.”

“You shouldn’t even be here,” Lochlan huffs as he tugs me closer. “Never mind the fact that you so easily mistook my much bigger and hairier thigh for Saylor’s. Pretty offensive, if you ask me.” I keep quiet, too entertained by their back and forth to butt in.

“You know what I find offensive?” Havok whisper-yells, lifting his head up to punctuate his annoyance with a glare. “You’re stupid fucking face.” I barely suppress a snort. They’ve definitely been cooped up with one another for too long.

“Get. Out.”

“Make me,” Havok taunts, connecting his foot with Lochlan’s shin.

“Bloody hell,” he grunts. I squeak when Lochlan tightens his hold and rolls me over his body, putting him beside Havok and me safely tucked on the other side, clear of the crossfire. Lochlan wraps his fingers around the metal slats of his headboard and starts shoving Havok from the bed with his feet. Popping my head up, I watch the two of them battle it out. Despite his best efforts, Havok still ends up in a heap on the floor. He lands with a curse. If they don’t take a timeout from each other he’s going to be black and blue.

“Fine.” Havok climbs to his feet, firing eye daggers at the back of Lochlan’s head. “One hour, Say. That’s all you’ve got before I break back in and steal you.” He leans over, using the side of Lochlan’s face as support, and pecks me on the mouth. He adds a little more oomph to closing the door than he needs to, but I just roll my eyes. I have no idea who decided that women should be labeled the ‘dramatic’ gender, but they’ve clearly never been in the presence of these five men. Lochlan turns, his honey-colored gaze going soft at the sight of me.

“Good morning, love.” He smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Hi.” I stare unabashedly, taking in the relaxed state he’s in. It’s scarce for Lochlan to let the weight of responsibility fall to the wayside, even for a little while. But he’s fully present at the moment, looking adorably rumpled from sleep. A crease dents his cheek from where he had it pressed against his pillow all night. I trace it lightly, loving the way his eyes close from the contact. Lochlan grabs my hand and brings it to his mouth. Placing a kiss on the tip of each finger, he trails his lips over my wrist, down to the bend of my arm, then back again.

I twine my hand with his and hug it to my chest, allowing my eyes to wander around the room. I’d been too tired to take notice of much last night, but with the sun shining through his window I’m able to make out a lot more of the space. His style matches the rest of the house—sleek and modern. Besides his bed, the only other furniture in the room is a dresser and single nightstand. There’s not an ounce of clutter. I’d be willing to bet his clothes are folded perfectly, each piece in its respective spot, and the drawer of his nightstand is organized to a T. If I didn’t know Lochlan, I’d think his personal space was cold and sterile. But that’s not it at all. He just likes for things to be nice and neat.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” I grin playfully.

“Like what, sweetheart?”

“Well, I know you were born and raised in upstate New York. Mostly. You spent your summers in London with your Nan. I’ve heard how you met the guys. That the reason you got into the business of private investigation and security is because of your savior complex. So, what don’t I know?”

“Honestly, love, that about covers it.” Lochlan toys with the strap of my tank top. “I have no tragic backstory that shaped me into the man I am today. No disadvantaged upbringing I had to overcome. I grew up with wealth but lacked attention and affection. My parents were indifferent, too busy climbing the cooperate ladder to bother raising a child. Despite that, I have no resentment towards them. They did the best they could with their lack of emotionally availability. I never wanted for anything, received the best education, and I got to visit my Nan for a couple months every year. If anything, I learned exactly what not to do as a parent one day.”

I want to argue that his childhood was kind of tragic. I can vividly picture a small version of the man before me, playing all alone in some stuffy old mansion with no one to talk to or pass the time with. It’s a testament to his Nan that he’s as well adjusted as he is. I’m grateful he had someone to love him, even though their time together was short. Lochlan’s right—he’d never be that kind of father. Any kid of his wouldn’t go a single day without knowing how loved they are.

“Do you still talk to them?” I ask, curious if they have a better relationship now that Lochlan’s an adult.

“Once or twice a year. Usually on my birthday or Christmas.” He shakes his head at my tight expression. “They have their lives and I have mine, love. Don’t pity me for something I have no remorse over. My family is right here—those four assholes and you.” I melt, dropping my head to his chest with a sigh.

“I’ve been wondering,” I mumble, pulling back slightly so my words aren’t muffled. “Why SOTERIA? Is it something you came up with or was it a joint effort?”

“SOTERIA is the goddess of protection,” Lochlan reluctantly answers, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. “My younger self was a nerd.” He shrugs, playing off his embarrassment.

“Was?” I cock an eyebrow at him. Glaring playfully, he rolls us, lifting me easily so I straddle his thighs.

“Am I too tame for you, sweetheart?” Lochlan holds me in place, his fingers flexing against my hips as he bites his lip.

“Not at all,” I answer truthfully, reaching over to grab his glasses off the nightstand. I slide them on him, in awe of how handsome he is. “I happen to like the nerdy look.” Lochlan makes a pleased sound, using his hold on me to his advantage. He drags me closer, right over his erection, slipping a hand to the back of my neck as his mouth takes mine in a sweet kiss. It’s a complete juxtaposition to the arousal pulsing between us. When he pulls away, I lean in for more, subconsciously chasing the taste of him.

Lochlan chuckles, gripping my butt in both of his hands as he stands and walks us to the bathroom. He places me on the vanity between his two sinks and hands me a new toothbrush. I smile gratefully, sneaking glances at his shirtless torso every few seconds. He has no tattoos or scars, his skin smooth and flawless. He spits, turning to face me with an amused glint in his eyes as he props his hip against the counter. I scrunch my nose and go back to brushing. After rinsing my side out, I drop my toothbrush in the holder and turn my attention to Lochlan.