Page 98 of Bitter Truths

Owen rolls off me immediately, but not before I catch the frustrated growl that rumbles through his chest. The loss of his weight leaves me feeling cold and exposed. He sits up, running both hands through his hair, jaw locked tight. His breathing comes harsh and uneven, hands clenching and unclenching like he’s fighting the urge to reach for me again. Or strangle Tristan.

I sit up quickly, tugging my hoodie back into place and trying to look like we weren’t seconds away from devouring each other.

“We were just—” I start.

“Sparring,” Tristan finishes, amusement dancing in his blue eyes. “I can see that. Very... hands-on technique.”

My face burns.

Right. Because that’s totally what it looked like when I was melting into a puddle under Owen on that mat. At the waterhole, I’d kissed all four of them without a hint of embarrassment, spinning that bottle like I owned the world. Now here I am, acting like some caught teenager.

“Looked intense.” His gaze moves between us, cataloging everything—our flushed faces, rapid breathing, the way Owen’s hands are still clenched into fists.

He sounds almost... jealous. He’s looking at me like he wants to do the same damn thing to me and much more.

He moves closer, each step deliberate. My heart beats wildly as his scent reaches me, making me dizzy.

God, I’m so turned on right now it’s not even funny.

“Where’s everyone else?” Owen asks, his voice steady but strained.

“Freddie’s making breakfast. Weller’s already working on the reports for our meeting today… don’t forget you need to take care of that thing for the fathers this morning.” Tristan’s eyes linger on me as he stops just a few feet away.

Owen grunts a response.

My skin tingles with awareness. This close, I can see the way his shorts cling to his... fuck. Every nerve screams at me to either run… to… or from… I am not quite sure which one. The fire in his eyes is doing things to me.

“Put me down for the next sparring session,” he says, those blue eyes never leaving mine. “Whenever you’re feeling up for the challenge.”

His offer sends a thrill through me. He’s not talking about sparring, and we both know it.

“I’ll take you anytime, Tris.” I mean to sound confident, but the words come out too breathless, too... needy. Oh god. Both men freeze at the wording, and it makes my skin scorch.

His eyebrows shoot up, and that familiar smirk spreads across his face.

I groan, pressing my palms against my eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Are you sure?” His tone deepens to that silky register that makes my skin prickle.

The thought hangs in the air between the three of us, electric and dangerous. But reality crashes back into me with a jolt—I have a mission. There are people who owe a debt that is impossible to repay, but I’m going to take what I can from them anyway. I can’t afford to get distracted, no matter how badly my body wants to bask in their attention right now.

“I should go take a shower,” I say, standing and moving toward the door on unsteady legs. “Get ready to head back to the hospital.”

And finalize my other plans, I think, but keep that to myself.

At the doorway, I can’t help but glance back. Owen sits on the mat, still shirtless, still looking at me. Tristan leans against the wall now, arms crossed, watching me.

I know my refuge training won’t save me from what these men make me feel.

Not for much longer anyway.

20

BIANCA

“More coffee?” Freddie’s already reaching for the pot before I can answer.

“I’m good.” But I don’t stop him when he fills my cup anyway. His face brightens as he pours, as if this simple act gives him purpose.