Micah shuddered. He needed to stop thinking. He shouldn’t say it, especially when he was facing Kai. I love you.
But Spike dragged his teeth down Micah’s shoulder, just next to his scent gland. Micah wanted him to bite down, wanted Spike to mark him.
He wanted to belong to Spike, too.
“I,” Micah panted, feverish with his need. I love you. He clamped his mouth shut.
“You...?” Spike asked, breathing hard.
Kai leaned in, giving Micah a dirty, hungry kiss, his tongue sweeping into Micah’s mouth. Spike thrust hard into him, hitting the sweetest spot inside.
Micah’s pleasure jolted up his spine, unyielding, wrenching his climax through his body. He cried out and shuddered, his cock pulsing in Kai’s fist. “I-I—” He dug his nails into Kai’s arms, Kai’s breath puffing against his skin.
“I love you,” Micah blurted, spurting onto Kai.
And then he froze, the horror of saying it to the wrong brother crashing through him.
23
Micah
Spike’s thrusts slowed. Kai opened his eyes, surprised. And Micah wanted the floor of the shower to swallow him up.
“I—I shouldn’t have said that,” Micah said, his face burning. “I didn’t mean it.”
That was better than telling one of them, and not the other.
Spike pulled out of him, leaning sideways to study Micah’s face.
“I should go.” Micah made to step outside the shower. He couldn’t deal with this, not when he’d messed up so badly.
Before he could leave, Spike grabbed his arm, whirling him around to face them. “You love Kai?” he asked, his gaze a bittersweet mix of disappointment and joy.
Micah dared to glance at Kai, whose eyes had lit up. Gods, I can’t do this to him. To both of them.
“No.” Micah shook his head. “I messed up. I just... it was a slip of the tongue. That’s all. I don’t love both of you.”
And now they were both watching him, attempting to read all the things he was trying so hard to hide. Micah eased out of Spike’s grip, his entire head flushing hot. He didn’t have the energy for this. He shouldn’t have done anything with them. He should be at the hospital.
They followed him out of the shower, their arousal filling the rest of the bathroom with musk. Sticky white droplets clung to Kai’s abs.
“You love someone,” Kai said slowly. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have said it at all.”
He exchanged a look with Spike. Micah saw the question in their eyes—was it Kai that Micah loved, or Spike, or both of them?
If Micah told them the truth, Kai would feel left out, wouldn’t he? That wasn’t what he wanted to happen at all. He liked Kai.
He staggered to the door, pausing when Spike stepped up close, slipping his arm around Micah’s waist. Micah shivered at his touch, his entire body tingling.
“Tell us,” Spike murmured. “We want to know.”
“Someone’s going to get hurt if I do,” Micah said, closing his eyes. “I don’t want that to happen.”
“But you love one of us,” Kai said, his gaze heavy on Micah’s back.
When Micah had started this thing with them, he hadn’t foreseen this happening. He wet his lips. “No.”
“Liar,” Spike said, nuzzling Micah’s shoulder.
Micah blew out a breath. “Yes, I’m a liar.”
“I still love you anyway,” Spike said.
Micah’s heart missed a beat. If Spike knew... he would be so happy.
“I should be at the hospital,” Micah said, squirming out of Spike’s arms.
Kai stepped forward then, touching Micah gently on the waist. “If you love Spike, you should tell him.”
Micah froze. How had Kai figured it out? He turned, glimpsing Spike’s disbelief and hope, and Kai’s wan smile.
Briefly, he thought about denying it again. But in the very act of hesitating... Kai would have confirmed his suspicions. Spike’s smile widened.
“You’re not denying it,” Spike said, his eyes gleaming.
Micah gulped, backing against the bathroom door. “I...”
“I like you,” Kai said, his lips tugging into a bigger smile. “I don’t mind that you love Spike.”
Micah held his breath, meeting Spike’s eyes. Spike beamed, stepping forward to pull Micah into a tight hug.
“I love you,” Spike whispered, kissing the sensitive spot just behind Micah’s ear. “I’ve loved you forever.”
Micah’s heart pounded. “I love you,” he whispered back. Spike rumbled, pleased.
But it didn’t feel right, when, over Spike’s shoulder, he glimpsed a brief shadow in Kai’s gaze. Like the time Kai had watched them from across the podium, back when they’d given Micah the pair of lace panties. Back then, Kai had looked... left out, almost. Like he wished he could join in, instead of watching from the outside.
But love was a fickle thing—you couldn’t tell yourself you’d love someone, and automatically feel it for them. It was something that blossomed on its own.
What if you tried your hardest, but love never happened? Micah’s stomach flipped. He couldn’t promise Kai anything.
He kissed Spike on the lips, savoring him for a heartbeat. Then he turned to Kai, reaching for him, too.
“I really like you,” Micah said, hoping it was good enough. “I can’t... promise anything. But I enjoy your presence. I’m grateful for your protection.”
Kai cheered up a little. He pressed himself behind Spike, hugging both of them. Over Spike’s shoulder, Micah kissed Kai on the lips, trying to tell him You are worthy, too.
Spike joined in, kissing Micah’s cheek, and Kai’s jaw.
Despite liking Kai, and loving Spike, having all three of them together like this—that felt the most right.
“I love you both,” Spike said, his eyes bright. “To the end of the world and back.”
“Now you’re just getting sappy,” Kai muttered. He pulled away with a bigger smile, though, slapping Spike’s ass.
“We really should head to the hospital.” Micah winced. “I promised York I’d be there.”
Their smiles faded. “We’ll go with you,” Kai said, opening the bathroom door. “It’s just the one car between all four of us.”
Micah grimaced. He wasn’t short on money, but having both a car crash and an ER visit to pay for—it still hurt his wallet. And that wasn’t counting all the expenses his new baby would bring.
Kai handed Micah a towel; Spike headed into the bedroom for some warm clothes.
When they arrived at the hospital, they found the emergency room full. Babies wailed, children fussed. Harried nurses hurried to and fro.
The anxiety of the place burrowed under Micah’s skin. He held Kai’s hand, searching the crowd for a familiar head of brown hair.
He couldn’t find York. Micah gripped Kai’s fingers tighter, pulling him deeper into the emergency room. Panic pressed up through his throat.
For two decades, York had been Micah’s anchor, the person he relied on for a reason to be strong. Over and over, Micah remembered York’s words. I missed a stoplight. A car crashed into me.
Micah had been so close to losing his son.
“We’ll find him,” Spike said, touching the small of Micah’s back. “Do you wanna sit down and let Kai and I—”
“Dad,” a familiar voice said from somewhere behind.
Micah’s heart leaped. He hobbled around, finding York a few paces away, his arm in a sling, his hair all mussed.
“York,” Micah cried, his heart unclenching. He blinked, afraid that he was seeing an illusion. But York was still there, his gaze steady, looking just a little worried.
With a ragged cry, Micah launched himself at York, pulling him into a hug.
York yelped, turning so Micah didn’t crush his injured arm. Micah hugged him tighter. Breathed in York’s hickory scent. York was so much taller than Micah, but he still felt like Micah’s baby. He had fit in Micah’s arms when he was
a newborn, and he’d stopped wailing when Micah murmured to him, his eyes all scrunched up, his tiny fingers curled.
Regardless of what happened with Kai and Spike, York would always be a pillar of Micah’s heart.
“I’m so glad you’re all right,” Micah said, his voice breaking. “Don’t scare me like that.”
“I’m fine,” York muttered. He looked the slightest bit shaken, still. “Sorry.”
Micah sobbed, stroking York’s back. “I’m sorry we haven’t really talked in a while,” he said when he could catch a breath. “I’m sorry you haven’t felt welcome at home.”
York gulped, the corners of his lips pulling down. “I’m sorry too, Dad.”
Somewhere nearby, Kai said, “This is really sweet, but you’re standing right in the middle of the aisle.”
Spike hushed him. But York heard, and he moved them closer to the wall. Micah held him for a long moment.
When Micah eventually convinced himself that York wasn’t about to vanish, he pulled away, wiping at his eyes. “Sorry. I really embarrass you,” he said to York.
Unlike all the other times when Micah had worried too much about his son, and York had pushed him away, York shrugged now, cracking a tiny smile. “This isn’t so bad.”
“Because you still need him to pay the bills,” Spike muttered.
York scowled. “Speak for yourself.”
Spike flipped him off; Kai glowered.
Micah sighed, blowing his nose. “Can we all start anew?” he asked, glancing around at the three of them. “No more insults. We’re all adults here.”
“York did start it,” Spike said, throwing York a dirty look. “Kai and I are perfectly fine.”
“You all kept a huge fucking secret from me.” York narrowed his eyes.
He was right. And Micah was the one Kai and Spike had been trying to protect. So Micah said, “If there’s anything you’re unhappy about, York, I’m the one to blame. You can take up any grievances with me, not them. I’ll fix things.”
York grumbled, but he seemed to realize that Micah was right. “Fine.”
“So we’ll start on a fresh page,” Micah said, glancing around at the crowd in the emergency room, lowering his voice so any onlookers wouldn’t judge. “York, these are my alphas. Kai and Spike, this is my son. If you could all shake hands...”
It still felt like there were eyes on Micah, though, people wondering what he had paid Kai and Spike, to have them both as his alphas.
Kai and Spike held their hands out. Grudgingly, York took them. They released each other like skin contact was poisonous, but at least they’d done as Micah asked.
Micah waited for York to step away from the brothers, before heading to the payment counter. There, the cashier stared at his scars, too.
Micah stroked his damp hair over the bald patches on his scalp, wishing he’d thought to dry his hair more thoroughly, so it would fluff up and cover the spots more. Then he caught his own reflection in a pane of smooth, dark glass. All the hideous scars. The missing hair. His gnarly fingers.
Behind him, Kai and Spike stood, tall and strong—even the receptionist threw interested glances at them.
The payment couldn’t go through fast enough. By the time he turned back to Kai, Spike, and York, Micah didn’t feel much like talking anymore. “Let’s head home,” he said.
York stayed close to Micah as he leaned heavily on his walking stick; Micah’s fatigue had seeped back into his body.
“I’ll carry Micah,” Spike said.
“I’ll do it,” York retorted.
Spike glanced at York’s bandaged arm. “Maybe in a few months. Kai can’t do it right now, either.”
Spike stopped in front of Micah, his copper eyes searching out Micah’s gaze. “Okay if I carry you?” he murmured, touching Micah’s cheek. Micah’s heart tripped.
“Don’t do that in public,” York grumbled. Spike ignored him.
“We should get Micah home,” Kai said dryly. “And get started on dinner. I’m starving.”
Micah still felt the presence of too many people around them, too many stares. It would be different in the privacy of his own home.
He turned his face away from Spike’s touch, nodding stiffly. “Home would be nice.”
Spike’s gaze didn’t once leave Micah.
In the car, Micah sat in the backseat with York. Spike drove, his gaze darting toward Micah through the rearview mirror. “What’s for dinner? I realized I forgot to ask what you bought at the store,” Spike said.
Micah thought back to his drenched grocery bag, and winced. “Leftovers. Unless you’d rather have dill whipped cream on top of smoked salmon and lemon custard. In which case, we’d need to stop at the store for more.”
He was met with silence. York turned slowly to look at him. “Lemon... custard? And dill?”
Micah smiled sheepishly. “I’ve been craving it.”
“I would try the dill whipped cream,” Kai said. “That sounds interesting.”
“Yeah, well, I’m going to try it all,” Spike said, puffing out his chest. “That’s what a good dad does, right?”
“I don’t think you’ll like it,” Kai answered.
“Ugh.” York looked revolted. “You as a dad. That just reminds that you knocked up—No, wait. I’m not thinking about it.”
Kai narrowed his eyes, looking back over his shoulder. “This isn’t about you. I’ll make some food. The special entree’s really for Micah.”
“You don’t even like dill,” York muttered at Micah.
“I can’t help it. I ate all the artichokes when I was pregnant with you.” Micah looked pointedly at his son. “And now you love artichokes.”
York scowled. “So you’re saying that this—this baby’s gonna like dill whipped cream and lemon custard?”
“Who knows?” Micah touched his belly, unable to help his smile. His baby was in there, somewhere. And it was growing slowly but certainly, a tiny flicker of life that Micah wanted to protect and nurture. It was Kai and Spike’s child.
“I’m not liking that sappy look on your face,” York muttered.
In contrast, Spike and Kai both perked up. “That’s our baby,” Spike said. Kai angled a warm look at Micah, sending a tingle down Micah’s spine.
York looked greener. “I don’t want to know.”
“You’ll have to acknowledge it, you know,” Micah said, squeezing York’s shoulder. “It’ll be your sibling.”
“That’s... awkward,” York said.
Both Kai and Spike looked vaguely uncomfortable. Micah hoped this would work out—all four of them as a family, Spike and Kai by his side.
But would they really stay? Or would Spike’s love fade? And Micah couldn’t possibly expect Kai to stay, instead of pursuing his dreams.
Micah pushed his doubt to the back of his mind. He’d worry about that another day. For now, there was delicious whipped cream to anticipate, and family to spend the time with.
24
Micah
Micah hesitated in front of his dresser, his heart pounding. He knew he shouldn’t do this. It was futile, and vain, and stupid.
But part of him, the part that asked What if they like you better with no scars? That part was... more difficult to ignore.
He could do it. It was in his power to.
He’d forbidden himself from ever touching the makeup kit again. After a date had stared and asked What are those lumps under your skin? Micah had thrown the box into the furthest corner of his bottommost drawer, and slammed it shut.
He didn’t need that sort of humiliation again.
But over and over, Micah remembered the stares in the ER a couple weeks ago. He’d thought about the beautiful receptionist ogling Kai and Spike, and he’d wondered what it would feel like, to look pretty again.
He imagined Spike and Kai looking at him all amazed—that was the most damning thought of all.
His hands trembling, Micah pulled the dusty sheet off his mirror. He sat in front of the
dresser, turning on the lights ringing the mirror, until every inch of his face was lit.
Then he forced himself to look up.
With the lights this bright, he saw every ridge and pothole of his scars. He saw the thick red lines, the whorls, the way it encroached onto his lips, so he could never smile right again. He saw failure and terror in those scars, smelled the acrid burn of smoke.
Micah swallowed his own revulsion, and flipped open the makeup kit. Most of the things in there had expired, but some... he could work with those.
He lay on the foundation first, masking the scars so his skin was just one color again. The scars were still ridged, though. Still lumpy. Micah brushed a lighter powder onto the shadowy parts, then took an eyeliner to his scalp, coloring brown over the bald patches, where the hair follicles had stopped growing.
Then he painted his lips, so there was definition on the right side once more. He drew on the end of his right eyebrow, and brushed more foundation down his neck, and his hand. Those were the simpler parts.
When he was done, he closed the makeup kit. The person in the mirror... It didn’t look like him, either. The eyes were too shadowed, the lips weren’t smiling. But it was an approximation of how he used to look, and it was a sight better than the scars.
His heart thumping harder than ever, Micah shut off the lights, and stood.
He shouldn’t be this nervous. It was just makeup. But if Kai and Spike liked this... what did it mean?
I want them to like me more.
What if they saw this, and they couldn’t go back to the scars?
Fear fluttered in his throat. Micah almost washed it all off.
He pulled the sheet back over the mirror, and stopped next to the door, breathing hard. His hands shook. He made himself suck in a deep, calming breath. Then he stepped out of his bedroom, and into the shadowy hallway.
Kai, Spike, and York were still asleep. Micah crept into the kitchen, preparing breakfast. Focus on the coffee. The toast. This isn’t anything unusual. You’re just doing the same daily routine.
His Two Alphas Page 23
