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Smith snorted. “You say what you said. We are close. Why is it anyone’s concern what we do in the bedroom?”
Okay, so he had a point, but… “They were all looking at me, judging me.”
“Of course they were watching you, kitten. You’re drop-dead gorgeous.” Brock gave an unamused laugh. “The women were probably envious. The men…” His jaw clenched, nostrils flared. “I think it’s best we don’t find out what they were thinking.”
Kyra’s lips parted, but Smith interjected, “Brock’s right—people in that room are so straight arrowed they wouldn’t even consider us to be in a ménage relationship. They might be curious if you were dating one of us, but, Kyra, why does it matter what they think?”
Even if what they said made sense, the panicked part of her mind told her to keep running. A relationship between them could never work out. How could she date two men? How could they share one woman?
She’d done this to herself. She put herself in this situation. But she could take herself out of it too.
Realizing how wrong she’d been to allow herself to go this deep with them, she also realized she’d broken her one rule she swore she never would. “Tonight made me realize how blinded I’ve been. How wrapped up we’ve all been.” She looked at them, an awful ache filling her chest. “I’m sorry, I have to end this.”
Not only did she break rules about how much time she’d spent with them, but she’d broken her biggest rule of all. She spent time with men who put their work before their home life.
Smith eyes blazed. “Kyra—”
“Besides the obvious reason of why this needs to end.” She cut him off before he could try and change her mind. “Work is too important to both of you. I get it. Really, I do.” She moved away from the wall. “I told you on our first date, I saw my mother go down that road, and it destroyed her. They told me she died of a heart attack, but I still think she died from a broken heart. Depression killed her.”
When both men took a step forward, she matched their move by taking a step back and pressed against the wall again. “Maybe I was too consumed with the fantasy to care about all the cancellations, showing up late for dinners, or phone call interruptions, but I’m sorry, I refuse to accept that as my life.”
“Kitten,” Brock said softly, stepping fully away from the streetlamp. “We own a large company that depends on us. You can’t punish us for something we can’t control.”
Smith inclined his head. “I apologize if our business hours have upset you. In fact, I’m aware why it does. You have good reason to be annoyed.” Again, he stepped forward, as did Brock. Smith added, “But that isn’t a strong enough reason to end things between us. We need to compromise, that’s all. And we can cut down our work hours by hiring new employees.”
She stepped away from the wall, nearly reaching the curb, and she stared at the pain and anger in their eyes. Even if they could explain away the ménage relationship and somehow make it work, she needed to walk away now. She would not be her mother. “No compromising. I told you that. I can’t live that life.”
Her lip trembled and her eyes welled, but she swallowed her raw emotions. To Brock, she said, “This was supposed to be fun, no-strings attached, and a bet between the two of you, remember?” Turning to Smith, she added, “That’s all it ever can be. Don’t follow me. Don’t call me again.” She turned and strode off down the street, tears trailing her cheeks.
Surprising her, what made her cry harder, was that neither of them stopped her.
Chapter Eight
Reggie’s, a pub-style restaurant, where sports games showed on the handful of widescreen televisions and peanut shells littered the floor, had been a Friday-night tradition for Kyra and her best friends. Now with Bella and Marley attached, both Kole and Reed had joined in on the weekly ritual too.
Sitting on the bench side of the table, Kyra scanned the pub to her right, watching a couple sitting at the table burst into a fit of laughter. She heaved a sigh, needing this night out more than ever.
It’d been two weeks since she’d left Brock and Smith standing on the dark street, and the image of them haunted her dreams. She had returned the dress they’d bought her days after the charity event, and she’d wondered if that would stir a text or a phone call. She hadn’t heard a peep out of either man.
By all appearances, they respected her wishes to stay away.
Of course, now she regretted ever saying, “Don’t follow me. Don’t call me again,” and she wished she could take those damn words back.
Bella’s laughter snapped Kyra’s attention into the present, and she looked out in front of her, while she all but sat alone. Kole was a good foot away near the end of the bench. On the other side of her, Sadie had left a bigger space between them while Marley, Bella, and Reed sat across the table all snuggled close together.
Folding her arms, Kyra muttered to no one in particular, “Do I stink?”
Sadie giggled, her blue eyes twinkled, and her strawberry blonde curls bounced on her shoulders. “Of course not, silly.”
Kyra glared at every single one of her best friends, including the two doms at the table. “Then why is no one sitting with me?”
Sadie smirked, scooting closer. “There, is that better?”
“Much,” Kyra grumbled.
Desperation made her ache from head-to-toe. She’d never been so needy of her best friends. Since ending things with Brock and Smith, she had become clingy. She’d even slept in each of her best friends’ rooms for their comforting presence, at least once.
As she’d done for days now, Kyra drowned her sorrows. She picked up her wineglass and took a huge gulp, cringing at the dry, bitter taste. Ignoring the nasty afterbite, she took another long sip. The days without the men had been the worst of her life. The dark bags under her eyes only proved it. She hadn’t slept well, she wasn’t eating well, and there was no denying it: she was officially a mess.
