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“None taken.”
Amara senses me watching her from across the room. She has her profile to me when her lips twitch in what resembles a smile. Other than that, she doesn’t acknowledge me. It breaks my heart. Shreds the miserable organ right down the middle.
Killian is right. I have to tell her. Once I do, the three of us will start coming out with our polyamorous relationship. Hand holding here. A whisper there. Making sure everyone sees Killian and I haven’t been fucking since I was underage or anything. Without anyone undermining us, we can keep Amara safe.
That is if she still wants us after she learns who we really are.
“Anyway.” I return to Luna who’s squinting her eyes. She hates secrets. Welcome to the fucking club. “None of our suppliers need to know what we’re doing here.”
Technically not a lie. Our staff’s being made aware of it for their own safety. They have to. They roam the halls, clean the rooms, and handle these people on a daily basis.
Our suppliers, on the other hand, pop in and out of the hotel. They shouldn’t run into trouble with our members.
Shouldn’t being the operative word.
“One of them might say the wrong thing, and I’d have to kill them.” My psycho smile pops out for a visit. “I’m always down for that. Killian…a little less.”
“Carter, it’s a wedding.” A man I don’t recognize calls to Luna. She turns to a guy who must be the hairdresser the way he’s wielding an iron curler like a weapon. “Amara is fun. She’s worked hard on the flowers. Don’t be a jerk, tell her I want her as my guest.”
“Yes. It’s a wedding. Weddings mean drunk people.” I wipe the smile off my face. She has to realize how serious I am. “You invited some members. Had your family and friends sign NDAs. That’s your business. Our suppliers are mine.”
“Luna, your bridesmaids are ready and you’re still here,” the man calls to her. “In what world does that make sense?”
“In mine.” She grins at him. The psycho grin she’s learned from watching me. The guy flinches. Then she turns to me and says, “I’ll be expecting to see her there. Today is my day, and for once, you will be the one to do as I say.”
“Fine, fine.” I wave her away like the annoying little sister she’s becoming. “I’ll talk to the flower girl.”
“Maybe you’ll even grow a pair and ask her out.” Luna whirls around and saunters over to her scared-looking hairdresser.
Thank fuck for that comment. If Luna hasn’t noticed something’s up between us, no one has. Relieved, my eyes wander back to Amara. She dotes over the flowers and talks to them. Hasn’t stopped since she got here.
Sweet. Cheerful. Totally unsuspecting.
All it’d take was just one person to slip up to take it away from her. Her trust in us would be forever severed and it’d be my fault.
Still…
No one will mess with Amara if I hover around her. Be her bodyguard.
Amara will have a fun night out. With us sort of, and with the rest of the people here too. She’s cute and bubbly. Anyone would be insane not to want to be her friend.
Insane, or dead by my hands.
Amara gives her flowers one last kiss before straightening. Adjusts the collar of her jumpsuit. Smooths the fabric around her hips.
My gaze rakes the venue, looking for threats. Anyone who looks at her a second too long will end up in pieces.
Focus.
A night out. Fun times for Amara. That’s what matters. We’ll watch her from afar, and it’ll be our twisted little idea of a date. Just until we’re able to offer her something better.
Why the fuck not?
“Flower girl,” I yell.
Her grin is goofy and sweet. “I’m Amara.”
“Whatever.”
