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“I bet you don’t,” Nick answered, and my face burned.
He glared at her until she turned and awkwardly left.
“Nosy bitch,” he muttered, then grabbed his cutlery and attacked the food on his plate, stopping to look over at me, his fork halfway to his mouth. “Eat, Ryth.”
I grabbed my fork before I knew it. How easy it was to now follow his every command.Eat, Ryth…get dressed, Ryth…that’s the way, fuck him, Ryth.My hand trembled. I licked my lips and met his stare. It wasn’t food I wanted…now that I was sober and every much aware of every glance and every touch, I wanted to feel him in other ways.
He just grinned and clucked his tongue. “There’ll be plenty of time for that, princess. Right now, you need to eat to keep up your energy.”
When he said it like that…
I shoved a forkful in my mouth. Pride gleamed in his eyes as Nick watched me take every bite until I leaned back and moaned. “I’m done. I can’t eat another thing.”
His smile grew wider and God, if that small thing didn’t make me feel alive.
He leaned across, grabbed my plate still piled with bacon, and scraped it onto his own, then set to demolishing the whole thing. I sat back, watching him with amusement, wondering how someone could eat like a damn horse and still look like him. Memories came back to me, the club, the fight, the way he'd charged into that back room, lunging after the men who had Caleb…and the way he'd thrown that bouncer to the floor.
I’d never seen anything so aggressive. Sitting there watching him, knowing what we’d done last night, only made me want him more.
“You’re staring,” he muttered, carving into the last pancake before shoving it into his mouth.
“Sorry.”
He lifted his head and his movements stilled, the fork halfway to his lips. I caught the flicker of his eyes as he quickly scanned the diner around us, his voice deepening. “Told you before, princess. You can look all you want, all you have to do is say the words.”
I looked away, flushing. But inside, I was racing, breathless with his intense focus. Then he ate, consuming the rest of everything else. “You gonna drink the rest of your juice?” he asked, drawing my attention.
I shook my head and slid the glass toward him, watching him give me a cocky smile and grab it, draining the contents in three massive gulps. How many years had I spent wondering what it’d be like to have brothers? To have a house that was loud and boisterous, to have my food eaten for me, and to have someone to watch out for me, to protect me no matter what. To have something that wasn’t just born from blood, but carved out of soul. My soul. Now I knew.
Nick stilled, the back of his hand chasing the remnants of the juice on his lips. Stars sparkled in his eyes and inside me, I ignited. He saw me, the real me, and he wanted more. We might not be tied by blood or the impending marriage of both our parents, but this moment, right now, felt different…it felt more.It felt more real than anything else I’d ever had before.
More real than the love of my parents.
More than the love of myself.
And as that glint in his eyes grew deeper, I knew he felt it too. Whatever this was between us was growing, taking on a life of its own…and we were helpless to stop it.
“Everything okay over here?” The waitress neared the table, shattering the moment.
But Nick didn’t let her steal everything. “Go away,” he growled. “You can clear the table when we’re done.”
She stiffened and jerked her glare from me to Nick before turning on her heels, muttering something under her breath as she stormed away. I was speechless. The way he'd turned on her, the way he'd gone from that charge of excitement to pure unmistakable dominance left me giddy.
“Are you done, Ryth?” he asked carefully as he threw enough cash to cover our bill onto the table, and added a generous tip.
Unable to think properly, I just nodded. He slid out of the booth then, offering his hand. “Little sister.” I took it, catching my breath at the connection as his hand clasped around mine.
Then together we strode out of the diner and headed for the car.
I expected him to take me to the park, to make good on what his eyes had promised. God, if I wasn’t ready. But he didn’t. Instead, he drove home and pulled into the driveway.
The Jeep was back.
My pulse raced at the sight. Tobias and Caleb had left before us, and now they were back. My gaze went to Creed’s gunmetal gray Mercedes with the trunk open. Nick pulled up and killed the Mustang’s engine as Creed strode out of the house, looking very different from how he'd looked before.
He was freshly showered and dressed in his usual dark gray slacks and crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He carried an overnight bag and a suit in a garment bag.
“Going somewhere?” Nick asked as we neared.
