Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“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 say Kayla, but I only hear the first part. It’s almost like he says Kai, and that reminds me of when I was a kid, writing Kai & Kay in 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. That didn’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 a lot growing 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 friendship and put the club at risk. It’s a good thing he’d never want me.
CHAPTER TWO
Kai
I don’t want her. I need her. 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.
Before I left for Europe, she was a shy kid in braces. The days of the bright-eyed, confident girl listening to me read bedtime stories are long gone. She was a bookish, withdrawn teenager, nodding hello when I visited and waving goodbye but never anything more.
Now, her braces are gone. Her smile is different, more womanly, her full features highlighted by her wavy brown hair framing her face. Her body is delightfully curvy, triggering things deep inside of me. My shaft throbs as if begging for her hand.