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There’s no man or woman I’ve ever loved harder than I love muffin. That is why I hate that I like the way his stepdad’s eyes darken when they land on Carter. Or me. I don’t understand what that dark, chocolate gaze wants, but I’m always two seconds from asking.
Or maybe it’s nothing but a get-out-of-my-personal-space look.
Not like I see him that much. I hang out in their penthouse on the weekends, and they work odd hours, so I hardly ever bump into Killian. When I do, I can’t help thinking of the three of us together.
That they’d be together, and with me.
Dream on, Amara. While you’re at it, try not to fuck things up with the man you’d cut someone’s throat for.
“He won’t want me there.”
Semi-honesty for the win. Despite the tension I must be imagining, he’s hardly ever spoken to me. The rare dinners we share aren’t what you’d call awkward, they’re just quiet. So quiet.
“Pet, of course, he’ll want you to move in with us.”
“No.” I give my head a rough shake, the strands of my hair covering my eyes.
Carter brushes them back, tucking them behind my ears. “What makes you say that?”
“I feel it.”
“Elaborate.” Carter, my sweet, vicious, Carter. He doesn’t let up. Then again, when has he ever?
“His expressions when I’m around.” I bite my bottom lip, and Carter pulls the flesh out to encourage me to go on. “Frowning or glaring. Sometimes, he groans. I don’t mind.” I do. His approval is important to me. For many reasons. “It’s his home; he deserves to have his quiet space. Without me there.”
A strong, scary emotion takes over Carter’s face. Something dark and sensual. His cock jerks beneath me.
“Killian is Killian.”
The irrefutable truth. Meaning there’s only one person Killian will show his version of love to. And that’s Carter. Preferably when I’m not around to be a witness to his softer-ish side.
How am I supposed to live there? Under the roof of a man who makes me giddy and yet hates me, or at the very least, feels nothing for me?
How am I supposed to be okay with ruining their dynamic?
My bottom lip juts out in a pout, and I twirl a lock of hair around my finger.
“He likes you, A. I swear.” The sincerity in his voice has me believing him. Almost.
“His glares tell a different story.” Or like he wants to eat me until there’s nothing left. “Listen, Carter, thanks for the offer. I’ll stay here, install a better lock. You’ll have to climb through the fire escape at night instead of breaking in, but maybe you’ll learn to like it?”
Carter’s warm palms encapsulate my cheeks, dragging me to face him again.
“Amara, please.”
“Please, what, muffin?” I huff.
“He’s not like that around other people.” His thick, black brows pinch together. “You think he’s pissed at you? No, beautiful. The way he looks at you, it means… Fuck.” He holds me tighter, gray eyes drilling into me. “You really don’t see it?”
“N-no,” I say, although I’m less sure than before.
He sighs. His breath smells of peppermint and Carter. I need to put an end to this conversation. Put it off indefinitely and maul him in my living room. I wanted him, my baby. And here we are, taking a nose-dive into emotion-land.
Things have been so easy between us. He’s crazy about me. I’m stupid for him. The three of us will ignore the big-ass elephant in the room.
Easy.
“Carter, I don’t want to make a mess out of things.”
