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“What do you mean?” The twinkle of joy in him diminishes. “Can’t you tell? I thought I was being clear before.”
“We’ve been the only meaningful person in each other’s lives for years.” I ignore the clouds descending on his gray eyes. Overlook the simmering anger. “We’ve never been apart for over a day. You might confuse the love for a father figure to a—”
“Step, Killian.” He does what I can’t, grabbing my hand in both of his strong ones. His voice is a rugged growl. “Stepfather. We’re not blood-related.”
“I’m the only parent you’ve ever known.” I’m not being fair for pressing him. But he has to think this through. This isn’t some kinky adventure.
“Step fucking parent.” He squeezes my fingers angrily. I glower at him to calm the fuck down, and he does. “Fuck you for the fucking insinuation. I’m not confused. I’m not a kid. I’m a twenty-five-year-old man. I know what I want.”
“Okay.” On its own accord, my thumb rubs the inside of his wrist, soothing his jacked-up pulse. “And what’s that?”
He licks his top lip, curses, and looks away before searing me with his gaze again. “You. You and Amara together. Why is that so hard for you to understand?”
The right answer would be because, for the better part of my life, you’ve been a kid to me. My kid. Then you became Amara’s. For six months I’ve been sure your love started and ended there.
It’s too much of an admission. Too emotional. Too fucking deep for this time of night. One of these days, I’ll use big words like love and obsession.
“Everything happened so fast.” I resign to the second-best answer. “I didn’t see it coming.”
“Oh, really? That’s what you tell yourself?” He tightens his hold on my hand, his grip turning affectionate. “Neither of us is blind to it, Kill. On some level, we’ve seen it coming. I haven’t missed the looks you give me. I haven’t missed you getting hard around me. I don’t believe for a second you haven’t noticed me doing the same up until I started dating Amara.”
“Your dirty fucking mouth.” My eyes roam across his body. To my sweats that he’s wearing.
My sweats.
His erection tents them. Tents the goddamn clothes I’ll wear later.
Jesus fucking Christ.
“See?” He jerks his chin to my painfully hard cock. “We’ve had this going on for three years. I haven’t been fucking around during that time. Then Amara came, and fuck, she’s everything. From the very first moment, I couldn’t imagine a life with her not in it. I thought you’d never come for me. That’s why I set the idea of you aside. Have been loyal to her in my heart and soul. But we don’t have to choose anymore, do we?”
He moves in closer. I smell my toothpaste on his breath. See every hair of his stubble. The shadows under his high cheekbones. His full lips.
“You haven’t been with anyone either.” Carter’s determined tone dares me to tell him otherwise. “Haven’t brought anyone over.”
“I haven’t had sex in three years, no. Not since I…” Love isn’t the word.
I do love him. He’s the only person I’ve ever loved other than my parents who died when they were young. Both from a stray bullet—the reason I entered this world to begin with.
Is it this kind of love, though? A romantic one? Could be. No fucking clue. I’m not about to drag Carter into my mess.
“Since the first time, I found that I was attracted to you.”
“Because I’m the only family you’ve got?” He’s not taken aback by my confession. He’s taunting me. Throwing my question back in my face.
“This isn’t the same thing.” You’re younger. More impressionable. “And no. I’m attracted to you because of you. That’s that.”
“Do you like Amara”—he quirks a teasing eyebrow—“because she’s been hanging out here? Because you got used to her being around?”
“No,” I admit the truth. “You don’t need me repeating that. You overheard what I told her.”
“Yes.” He’s unapologetic about listening in on us. Smirks in triumph.
Another emotion shines behind his playfulness. One I never witnessed on Carter’s face before he met Amara.
A foreign emotion on Carter.
A good one.
