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He pulled away a few inches and then showed me his left arm. It was a butterfly like he had on his other arm, but on this one he had the word Beautiful curving over the top. “You make everything ugly inside me beautiful, Kat.”
I stared at the ink, the skin still red and inflamed. The artist had captured the butterfly in flight, the shadow of its fluttering wings making it pop from his skin. The most intricate designs decorated the wings with black and a brilliant blue.
I looked up at him. I didn’t have a chance to say anything as he lowered his mouth to mine, soft and gentle like a feather brushing up against my lips.
He hadn’t attempted to kiss me since the attack. But it wasn’t that; it was that Ream didn’t do gentle kissing. He was passionate, hard, and insistent. He was trying to be tender as his lips roamed over mine sweet and warm, but I needed him to be rough and unforgiving. I needed Ream to be Ream.
“God, Ream, kiss me damn it.”
“You just had your stitches—”
“If you don’t kiss me like you mean it right now, I’m walking away.” That was a lie and I suspected he knew that.
He groaned then flipped me around, and I staggered backwards until my spine was against the car. His mouth hit me hard, seeking, claiming, and finding me all at once. My hands slid up his chest to feel his heart hammering beneath my palms.
He pulled back for a second to look at me then tilted his head and his mouth slammed into mine again. It was two cars colliding, bent then broken now fusing together.
The ache between my legs vibrated as he pressed into me. I rubbed my thigh up against his and he grunted then slid his hands down my back to my ass and picked me up so I could curl my legs around him.
“Jesus, baby. I’ve missed you.”
He didn’t let me respond, and honestly I wanted to avoid all talk and just kiss him because I’d needed this for far too long. Now I was getting it and I didn’t want it to end. It was one thing we never lost, the passion for one another.
His lips softened against mine and our frantic need slowed, but the urgency still claimed us as he held me pinned between him and the car. His fingers curled into my ass and I moaned. “I want you to trust me again, baby.”
“Ream? Kat?”
A car door slammed.
Matt. And he didn’t look happy—at all.
“What are you doing here, Ream?”
Ream didn’t let me go but let me slide down his body until my feet hit the pavement. He half-turned toward my brother like a protective wall of muscle. I ducked under his arm and was going to ward off Matt, who looked ready to start a fight, but Ream grabbed my hand and pulled me back.
“Matt. It’s fine,” I said.
“What’s your problem with me?”
“You’re an ass. That’s my problem,” Matt retorted, still glaring at Ream.
“Says the guy who didn’t tell his sister about Lana. Fuck man, why the hell wouldn’t you say anything? You knew what your sister thought.”
“Because she is better off thinking you’re a piece of shit.”
“Matt. Seriously?” I said. “That is so not cool.”
“He shows up at my bar. You’re drunk as hell with another guy and this asshole is saying shit about needing time. I saw you two leave together two nights before that. I’m not stupid, Sis.” Shit, Brett must have overheard. “Then he loses his shit and I need to have his ass thrown out of my bar. No, Kat. You don’t need a guy like him in your life. No stress remember?”
“Matt, stop.”
Ream locked his arm around my waist and pulled me into him. “Baby, if your brother needs to say shit …”
“Fuckin’ right I have shit to say to you.” Matt stopped right in front of us and as Emily and I would say he was ‘on the burner.’ “You had your chance. You screwed up. You’re not getting that again. And I don’t care that you showed up at the hospital this time. I let it happen because Kat, for some reason, wanted you there. But hooking up with you again is a mistake and I’m not letting her make it twice.”
“Matt. Let me—”
He turned toward me. “What’s the deal, Kat? I thought you were done with him. He doesn’t deserve you.”
Ream’s entire body went stiff and completely still. When he spoke it was with a hard, gruff tone that even I didn’t want to mess with. “Maybe I don’t. But this is between her and me—not you.”
Matt’s hands clenched and the pink of his cheek turned red. He was ready to blow a gasket.
The pins and needles in my legs sparked like fireworks. “Both of you. Stop it,” I shouted.
Neither of them paid attention to me, and Ream let me go as he strode toward Matt, fists clenched, body tense. My legs weakened as the tingling turned to numbness and I staggered into the car, grabbing at the edge of the door for support. A slight yelp escaped me as I just about fell.
“Fuck.” Ream dove for me, wrapped his arm around my waist. “Is it your legs?” I glanced up at Matt and saw the surprise in his face. “Babe, get in the car while I deal with this.”
Matt’s voice was suddenly calm and quiet as he stared at me with shock. “He knows?”
I nodded.
Ream tightened his hold around my waist and Matt’s expression instantly changed from fury to concern. I couldn’t blame him; he’d raised me, been through all the testing, and sat with me while the neurologist gave me the bad news that I had Multiple Sclerosis. I remember him reaching across the space between us and taking my hand. It was the most comforting gesture he could’ve ever done. No words. No anger for what I’d been dealt. Just support. I’d always remember that moment. I’d been sixteen and scared, not understanding what this meant for the rest of my life. But I knew I had Matt and that made everything a lot less scary.
