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“Thank you,” she murmurs.
Then the unexpected happens: her fingers drift over my thigh under the table. The touch is fleeting yet distinct. My heart thumps hard in my chest. I’m so aware of her at this point that every time she moves, I catch the scent of her skin and hear the soft hitches in her breath.
Today, her fragrance smells of hot buttered cinnamon-sugar toast and strawberry jam. It makes me want to bury my nose in the crook of her neck and hold her forever.
Unable to help myself, I slowly move my hand up to the back of her chair, hidden from Killian’s watchful gaze. The sleek tip of her long ponytail tickles the tops of my fingers. Blandly reaching for another scone with my free hand, I use the moment to trail my fingers along the length of her ponytail.
She shivers delicately, and the downy hairs along the edge of her neck lift. Immediately, I get fully and achingly hard. I want to wrap my fist around that silken length of hair and hold on tight, work my hard cock into her tight, slick heat. I want to pleasure her body, watch her lips part and sigh my name.
As if she knows the direction of my thoughts, Brenna keeps her gaze firmly away from me. “Have you had enough of my sex talk?” she asks Killian.
“Totally,” he answers far too easily. Then he grins evilly. “Did I ever tell you about Libby’s favorite—”
“Keep going,” Brenna cuts in. “I’m certain Libby will want to hear all about you describing her sex life to me.”
That shuts him up in a hurry. He hunches over his tea with a surly frown. “It’s no fun when you call my bluff.”
I chuckle. “She’s got your number, man.”
He slides me a look filled with aggravation but then smiles. “Always has.” Lightning fast, he reaches out and musses Brenna’s hair, laughing when she squawks and swats him away. “Aw, come on, cuz, don’t be like that.”
“Ass,” she says, smoothing her hair. But there’s a glint of amusement in her eyes.
It hits me how close they are. Sometimes I forget about their connection. Mainly because we’re all so close. But as I am currently sneaking around and doing dirty things to Killian’s cousin, whom he thinks of as a sister, I’m suddenly feeling a twinge of uncomfortable guilt. Not because I think I need permission from Killian or anything; Brenna is her own person. But I’m lying to him, and he cares deeply about her.
Truth is, I don’t like lying to any of them.
Killian takes another sip of tea. “You know I actually invited you—not you”—he glances at me before returning to Brenna— “for a reason.”
“Hey,” I protest.
Killian’s expression turns quelling. “Dude, you couldn’t be bothered to show up for the last two band meetings, and you’re acting outraged because I didn’t expect you here?”
A thick, ugly blackness threatens to close down my throat. I swallow past it. “I told you, I had a headache.”
“Twice in one week?” His snort is dubious and annoyed. “And yet you’re here now. For the food.”
Heat invades my face. Brenna stares at me with a frown, but she doesn’t say a word. I’ve told her I have headaches. I’ve told them all. Evidently, that’s not going to fly. Even so, his implication that I care more about food than I do about the band sets my teeth on edge.
I lean forward, pinning him with a glare. “I didn’t say one fucking word when you went AWOL for an entire summer, drinking your ass off and dicking around. Not one fucking word.”
Killian hisses, but I speak over him. “Because I knew you needed to tap out for a while. Life is sloppy. Sometimes people can’t show. Now, are you going to give me the same courtesy I gave you or pull some diva rock star bullshit?”
Anger sparks in his eyes, and I know he’s about to blow. Good. I need to work off my own steam at this point. But then a cool, smooth hand lands on my forearm. I glance down to find Brenna is holding on to both my arm and Killian’s.
“Cool it,” she says briskly. “You guys hate fighting and will regret what you’ve said later.”
“Call me a diva again and— Ow! Shit, Bren!” Killian rubs his arm where she knuckle-punched it.
“You were being a dick to Rye,” she says, shocking the shit out of me and Killian, who gapes. Brenna’s gaze narrows on him. “You were. We don’t rag on each other for having off days.”
Now I feel like an ass. Because there are no headaches. The urge to hide my hands under the table is both childish and ridiculous. I need to confess to the guys at some point, and I’m being a coward about it.
A mulish frown twists Killian’s lips, but he nods. “Sorry,” he says shortly. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
