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Chapter 14

Brooke

The girls' gang is resting at my feet, the cats climbing all over Micah's furniture, and Daisy pouts in a corner. She has been doing it since Kieran left earlier today, and I bet she misses him.

She wouldn’t be the only one.

Wistfully, I stare at Morticia and Gomez. The two grey canaries sit on the same rod in their huge cage, nudging their heads against each other. So sweet and annoyingly in love.

What a whirlwind of a day it's been.

I should be more thankful in the grand scheme of things. The animals are safe. I'm safe. Kieran's not the dickhead I thought he was.

And at least my existing shelter is safe, even if the sanctuary is slipping further and further out of reach. Like magnets, my gaze is pulled to the stack of papers in a corner. Or rather, the bag I'm keeping them in.

The animals deserve so much more. More place to roam, more space to live their lives in and enjoy some peace and quiet.

My phone buzzes with a message from Hannah.

Hannah: 🔗Video

Hannah: You're welcome.

Before I can even click the link, another message comes in.

Hannah: This is my personal favorite. Again, you're welcome.

Curiously, I click the first link and almost throw my phone across the room.

Right, she mentioned something about Kieran and his TikTok. What I didn't expect is him in all his upper-body-naked glory, dancing sensually to some low-bass sound.

"Holy shit," I whisper and pull the phone closer to my face.

I might have seen his ass not too long ago, but he's ripped, all abs and smoky tattoos, and the smooth way he's moving sends heat right into my cheeks.

And he's got a full account full of these kinds of videos.

His face isn’t visible in any of them. It's kind of a shame, actually. Lean bodies one way or another, it's his eyes that tend to draw me in, the way he's only wearing his emotion in them while trying to hide them with his behavior and lame jokes.

Now I click the second video Hannah sent me, and this time I drop the phone for real, which is bad because the video is pretty damn loud, and it sounds pretty damn obscene.

"What the hell is he chopping wood for?" I murmur as I pick the phone off the ground.

I didn't see a fireplace in his house, but holy shit, I could watch him chop wood for two days in a row. His naked chest glistens with sweat, his muscles strain as he holds the axe high over his head before slamming it down into the log and lets out small, throaty sounds.

Slowly, I let the phone sink and stare at the wall.

Oh, I'm in so much trouble.

I run my palm over my face and pinch the bridge of my nose.

"Brooke!" Evan's muffled voice is accompanied by loud knocks. My phone drops to the couch, heart racing like he caught me watching porn.

Yes. Please. Anything to distract myself from that. I get up, pat my hot and probably beet-red cheeks and hope he’s oblivious enough to not notice in the dim light. Or, at least, nice enough to not pry.

"What is it?" I ask, opening the door, right as his fist is about to hit the wood again.

"Oh, there you are.” He stumbles, but quickly regains his balance. “We're having a campfire. Are you coming? It’s Hudson’s last evening here before he returns to the city until Christmas."