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The ocean glaring
And now we sail together.
Just us, only us,
We can do it.
We can do anything.
God, how dramatic, and now I’m almost crying. I feel so immature as I walk across the room and grab the kitchen towel, roughly pawing at my cheeks. Memories of Dad attack me: bobbing up and down on his knee, his voice as he read bedtime stories to me.
Butthatleads me to the other man who used to read me stories: his husky voice and dark eyes. The calm concealed a world of fire, heat, and potential violence—
Kai. I won’t think about him. He’s been gone for two years. When I was seventeen, he left to work with the European branch of the Titans. I sometimes hear him and Ryan talking on the phone, my entire body tingling at Kai’s voice, but I lock that away. I lock it down deep.
Ryan and Kai have been best friends for as long as I can remember. Hell, when Kaistartedreading stories to me, we were both kids. I was four, and he was seventeen. Mom and Dad loved Kai so much and treated him like family, which helped because he never had one of his own.
“I’m going to stay at the apartment,” I say, not looking at Ryan. I’m not sure if that comes from guilt or rage.
The apartment is the two-bedroom Ryan bought in town a couple of years ago. Sometimes, he’ll stay there when handling business, or I’ll stay there if I’m spending time with friends or working late at the diner.
I’ve taken some holiday time, just like last year when working at the diner as a summer job. Now, there’s no more high school, just the diner and the wild, weird dreams of being a poet—the most unsustainable and unlikely profession.
“I understand,” Ryan says, walking over and wrapping his arms around me. I almost yell at him to take his hands off, but the feeling is too familiar. Falling into his arms, holding him, and letting him hold me. “I love you.”
There are more tears in my eyes. “I have to go.”
“Kay—”
He’s about to sayKayla, but I only hear the first part. It’s almost like he saysKai, and that reminds me of when I was a kid, writingKai & Kayin notebooks, knowing I could never act on these feelings. It would’ve been a betrayal, just like Ryan betrayed me.
I leave the room and almost run down the hallway. I’ve got my sneakers on, so I push the door open and walk down the windy, dusty road leading to town. I could’ve taken the pickup, but the keys are on a hook in the kitchen. Anyway, I want to walk. Maybe the motion will clear my head, though I’ve never been the biggest fan of exercise.
I walk with my head raised. If I stare at the ground, my thoughts will collapse inward like a sinkhole. I won’t be able to do anything except think about all the moments I missed. Ryan supported Dad, caring for him, but I didn’t even know anything was wrong.
Only toward the end, when he collapsed, I finally saw past what I expected him to be to what he had become—shrunken, half of the man he was. I hated myself for not noticing sooner. Maybe I still do. How could I miss that?
After five minutes of walking, the town is in sight, lying in a natural dip in the terrain. Everything is tinted yellow. As the midday sun blazes, I hear a bike engine roaring behind me. I turn to find a cloud of dust swirling in the air, so I can only see Ryan’s silhouette. He must want to talk about what just happened, though I don’t know if I can, don’t know if I’ve got any more words in me. Maybe some bad poetry. Maybe some lines of pain.
I turn and walk quicker, though obviously, that’s a fool’s game. It’s not like I’ve got bionic legs. I’m not outrunning him. The bike gets closer, and I clench my fists. The sound of bikes usually brings a smile to my face. It means my brother or his friends, who are all friendly and respectful to me, are here. It means comradery and warmth.
Once, it even meant Kai.Thatdidn’t make me smile. That rumbling made my insides quiver and my soul hurt. It made me think of a life where this huge, handsome, hot-as-hell man and I could be together.
The bike pulls around in front of me. The driver comes to a clean stop. He handles the bike even better than Ryan, which says a lot. It’s not my brother. I bite down, stepping back, wondering if I’ve got a heatstroke. A light layer of sweat covers my body, so maybe that’s what’s happening here. Perhaps I’m losing my mind.
Kai steps off the bike. I know it’s him even before he takes his helmet off and lays it on the ground. He’s the same age as Kai, thirty-two, with dark black hair grown a little wild, swept to the side to keep it out of his eyes. A few specks of silver glisten in the sun, giving him a more mature look than the last time I saw him.
He wears his leather, which outlines his broad shoulders and muscular arms. His face is perfect from every angle. I should know. I studied it alotgrowing up. His eyes are bright green. Maybe that’s it, but the green becomes a raging fire in other lights—ready for violence and prepared to do what has to be done for the club. He’s not just Kai’s best friend. He’s his right-hand man.
If I acted on these feelings, I’d ruin a friendshipandput the club at risk. It’s a good thing he’d never want me.
CHAPTERTWO
Kai
I don’t want her. Ineedher. This wasn’t part of the plan.
My manhood is pushing against the inside of my jeans, and my heart is pounding against my leather-clad chest. I clench my fists as I walk across the dusty, sunbaked ground and stand over her.
