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Why doesn't he get it?
I force myself to meet his gaze. "I was supposed to keep moving. I can't let him come here. If he sees you—"
"Roe." His harsh tone makes me pause. "You know as much as me that I'm not the issue. He's not gonna touch me. The real reason you're losing it is Wes—what he might do to him if he finds out about your little, uh…obsession."
Motherfucker.He's right—on both accounts. He would never harm Kiwi. If he wanted to, he would've had the chance. Wes though…
I pry my hands out of his grasp and cover my face, inhaling deeply. At the thought of anything happening to Wes, I feel like I'm being choked. I swipe my hands up and into my hair, taking a fistful and pulling. "This is all my fault. He gave strict orders not to stay anywhere longer than a few weeks. But what did I do? Blew it all to hell because I ran intoWeston Sheatsand developed this unhealthy crush on the guy. I should've known better.Weston. Sheats.Look at me." I gesture wildly at myself, and Echo sits up, startled. "Who the fuck stalks a guy like this? Ask me anything about him; I probably know the answer. That fact alone would make anyone run for the hills. I'm a freaking nutca—"
"ENOUGH!"
I flinch at my best friend's outburst. He rarely raises his voice at me, and I don't like it. Kiwi is one of the few people I care about what he thinks of me.
Instead of responding, last week replays in my head like a movie.
The adrenaline rushing through my veins as I pushed the gas pedal down, Wes's bike coming closer and closer.
"King."
As I skirted to a halt next to him, my finger pushed the button to roll the window down. When he saw me—really saw me…
"KING!"
My head jerks toward Kiwi, who sits leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.
"WHAT?" I snap.
He cocks a brow and pointedly looks toward my hands. I follow his gaze, and my eyes widen. When did I get that out? I'm holding my Guardian Helix in a white-knuckling grip—with the blade out.
A whimper comes from under the table, and I drop my second favorite knife as if it had burned me.
Oh, God.
I wasn't carrying the GH tonight. I only had the Du Hoc with me earlier. My heart is racing in my chest. I haven't lost time in over a year. Not since—
"You had it in your boot." Kiwi's subdued tone penetrates my ears.
I did?
I glance down at my worn Doc Marten boots.
"Roe-Roe." My eyes begin to sting at his gentle tone. I'm such a basket case.
Suddenly, Kiwi stands up and pulls me out of my chair. I don't fight him as he drapes his arm over my shoulders and leads me to my room. Echo pads after us, her nails clicking softly on the hardwood floors.
Neither of us turns the light on. Kiwi lets go, pulls his shirt over his head, and unbuckles his jeans. When I continue standing in front of my bed, he takes over. He picks up the sleep shirt I discarded on the mattress this morning, pulls my The Grizz crop top over my head, followed by dressing me for bed like a toddler—arms up, shirt over my head.
He pops the button of my shorts, and inwardly I want to make a joke about how he's so good at opening a girl's pants, but I can't manage to form the words. I'm pretty sure a low chuckle escaped me, though.
If he heard it, he didn't show it. He pulls the comforter back, and before either of us can get in, my dog jumps up and moves to the far end of the mattress.
Kiwi sighs. "At least she's leaving enough space for both of us."
I get in first, and when we're both—all three—tucked in, Kiwi lies on his back, and I'm nestled into the crook of his arm.
I have no idea what I'm going to do.
Why isit so fucking hot?
