by Becca Steele
“I’ll be there,” he promised me, then spun the chair back around. Lifting me effortlessly, he turned me around to face the computer. “Look at this.” He leaned forwards, clicking the computer mouse. “Recognise the names on this list?”
I ran my gaze down the list of names, recognising some of them. “What’s this? Is this a list of the people that were there yesterday?”
“Yeah.” His hand moved from where it had been resting against my side, and I twisted around to look at him. He was rubbing his brow, his eyes closed.
“West?” My hand covered his. He sighed, his breath skating across my cheek.
“Just a headache.”
Pulling his hand away, I stroked my fingers across his brow and across to his temples. He groaned, keeping his eyes closed, his lashes fanned out across his cheeks.
Fuck. He was beautiful.
With an effort, I focused on the reason I had my hands on him to begin with. “West?”
“Yeah?” He kept his eyes closed, his arms lightly gripping my sides, his head resting against the back of his chair.
“How long have you had these headaches?”
His eyes blinked open, glassy and unfocused as I continued the movements of my fingers. “I dunno. A while.”
“When you’re looking at the screen, or other times?” I slid my hands into his hair, massaging his head, and he groaned, his eyes falling shut again.
“Fuck. Keep doing that.”
“When?”
He was silent for a bit, contemplating my question. “When I look at the screen.”
Gripping his face, I examined him. “Open your eyes.”
After a couple of minutes, he opened them, watching me. The deep, dark blues and greens and greys were so hypnotic, I almost lost my train of thought.
“Have you had an eye test?”
“I don’t need glasses,” he said automatically.
“Will you just have one? For me?” I attempted to bat my eyelashes and pout.
His laughter was so loud, I was surprised that no one else came running to see what was so funny. “Don’t do that again,” he wheezed. If I didn’t like him so much, I would have been tempted to cause him physical pain.
Actually, I was still tempted.
“Sorry,” he muttered, when he finally had control of himself. “Promise me you won’t do that again.”
“Do. What,” I bit out.
His hands cupped my face. “Believe me when I say that you’re beautiful, Lena.” He stared into my eyes, sincerity radiating from him, although his lips were still curved in amusement. “You don’t need any tricks to get me to do what you want.” He buried his face in my shoulder, his arms wrapping tightly around me.
“Okay,” I agreed readily. “But will you have an eye test? Please?”
“Yeah. I’ll book one.” His voice came out muffled but resigned, before he raised his head. “I will. Promise.”
“Good.” I didn’t linger on the conversation because it was clear he didn’t want to talk about it. Instead, I returned the attention to the list of names as I turned back to face the screen. “Do you—”
Before I could even finish the sentence, he was scrolling to the bottom of the list. “These are the people who I think could be running it.”
He dragged the cursor across the screen, highlighting the few names listed in bold.
Martin Smith
Jaroslaw Milosz
Thom ???
“Okay, let’s go through these. We have Martin Smith. Do we know his role?”
His thumb stroked across my stomach almost absent-mindedly, like he didn’t realise he was doing it. “I’m sure he’s the money man. Sorting out the deals, or whatever.
“I think so, too.” Everything I knew ran through my mind as I tried to fit the puzzle pieces into place. “What about this Jaroslaw guy?”
He leaned forwards again, navigating to another folder where he opened a file labelled Milosz. “This is what I have on him.” Scrolling through the data he had, I learned that Jaroslaw had a criminal record in Poland, and he had been tentatively connected with a trafficking ring in Romania. But the one thing that made his connection crystal clear? He was the licensed owner of the lorry that Caiden and Zayde had found.
“Do you think he’s the one bringing the dogs in?”
West shrugged. “It seems like it.”
“What about Thom?” My eyes focused on that one word, typed in bold with a load of question marks next to it.
“I don’t know.” He heaved a sigh, dragging me back against him at the same time. “He was mentioned in that message from Martin Smith’s phone, wasn’t he?”
I nodded, thinking back to the messages and what we knew of the guys already.
“Do you think he could be the guy in the hood that was collecting the bets at the fight?” I wondered aloud.
“Could be. That was my first thought, but fuck knows. There are a lot of people involved in this shit.”
“That’s true.” We both stared at the screen, Weston’s head leaning on my shoulder while he navigated through the data.
“See that?” He opened up a record of import. “Fits with the date that was mentioned in that email, remember?”
“This looks cosy.”
An overly loud voice sounded from behind us, and I felt rather than heard Weston’s sigh in my ear. He spun us around lazily, until we were both facing my brother.
The expression on Cassius’ face…I couldn’t read it. It was like he was happy, and not happy at the same time. Like he didn’t know whether to be pleased with us or not.
“You wanna see my list?” Weston offered, and Cassius blinked, then nodded.
“Yeah, mate. Show me what you got.”
“Is breakfast ready?” My stomach suddenly decided to make itself known.
“Almost. I left Z in charge.” Cassius flashed me a smile, and I climbed off Weston, needing to leave them alone.
“I’m gonna keep an eye on him.” I escaped the room and made my way to the kitchen, where Caiden and Zayde were finishing up the food prep while Winter and Kinslee set everything out on the table.
“What can I do to help?”
It was Caiden who answered me. “Get the salt and pepper.”
After I did that, I slid into a seat on the left side of the table. “Breakfast is a big deal here, huh?” I stared at the spread laid out in front of me.
“Yep.” My brother had re-entered the room with Weston, and he took over from Zayde, dishing out the eggs onto everyone’s plates. “Take a seat.”
“I already did.”
He rolled his eyes in response, concentrating on dishing out the food. My attention focused on Kinslee. She barely paid attention to West, and I relaxed against my chair.
“What do you think, Kins?” Cassius spoke, turning my attention back to her unwillingly. She shrugged, her eyes dancing, amused by whatever my brother had said when I wasn’t paying attention.
“I have no idea,” she drawled. “I’ll let you decide.”
Because I was clearly a masochist, I slid out of my chair and spoke in Kinslee’s ear. “Do you want to come to Cassius’ birthday lunch?”
Her eyes met mine, all wide, amber pools, fringed by heavy black lashes. Why did she have to be so fucking pretty? And why the fuck did I even care? This stupid, irrational jealousy over Weston needed to go away. Now. “I’d like that.” Her eyes narrowed. “If you’re okay with it.”
Apparently, I was way too easy to read.
“I’m fine with that.”
She gave me a knowing look. “Lena.”
“What.”
Her voice lowered so it was barely above a whisper. She scooped food onto her fork with one hand, while still focusing on me.
“Weston never looked at me the way he looks at you.”
I didn’t know I needed to hear those words until she said them.
Something inside me settled, and I smiled at her for real.
THIRTY-FIVE
“What about Skirmish?” I named the huge warehouse-style place owned by Credence Pope, aka Creed, that offered everything from archery to paintballing.
“Let’s do it. I wanna improve my knife-throwing skills.”
Winter’s enthusiasm caught me off guard, and I looked to Kinslee, who shrugged. “I’m good with that, if you can book us a slot with short notice.”
After a quick call to the centre, we booked one of the throwing ranges, which allowed up to eight people at once.
“Should we invite someone else? Make it an even number?” Winter suggested to me. “Why don’t you invite one of your friends from Alstone High? It’s time I got to know them, really. Especially since I have a feeling that you’re going to be spending a lot more time around here.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?
“West.” She coughed into her hand, and I rolled my eyes as Kinslee laughed.
“So subtle.”
One more phone call later, and we were on our way to Skirmish, stopping to pick up Raine on the way. After her initial shyness, Raine was coaxed into a conversation with us about her clothing designs. I happened to mention the leggings she’d designed for me, and by the time we’d pulled into the Skirmish car park, she’d agreed to design a pair for both Winter and Kinslee.
Inside, we were shown to the throwing range and took up position. The others made me go first, supposedly so I could give the rest of them tips. Raine wasn’t bad, for a beginner, and soon we were all involved in the game, trying to be the first to hit the centre.
While Raine and Kinslee took their turns, Winter sidled up to me. “I’ve been meaning to speak to you. What’s going on now with you and West?”
I sank to the floor of the range, leaning my head back against the wall, and she took a seat next to me. Stretching my legs out in front of me, I thought for a minute. “We both agreed to take a step back. Mostly to give Cass a chance to cool off, and…” My voice lowered. “I wanted him to make sure that this was what he wanted. If this was worth it. If I was worth it, you know?”
She shuffled closer, leaning her head on my shoulder. “West would be lucky to have you. I agree that he should be sure of what he wants, but if you want my opinion—and too bad if you don’t, because you’re getting it anyway—he’s really into you. Really, really into you. If he hasn’t already come to that conclusion by himself, I’m sure it won’t take him long to realise.”
I tilted my head to rest on top of hers. “Thanks. I hope so. I’ve liked him for so long.”
“I know, I could always tell,” she said with a small laugh. “I don’t think it was obvious to anyone else, though.”
“I hope not.” I cringed.
We sat in silence for a few minutes, watching Kinslee and Raine. “You know what, though? We both have amazing taste in men. The Cavendish brothers are fucking hot.” She lifted her head to grin at me.
“I think they’re the ones with amazing taste.” Climbing to my feet, I offered her my hand, pulling her up from the floor.
“That’s true.” We made our way back over to Kinslee and Raine, where she handed me a knife. “Are you going to stop holding back now and show us how it’s done?”
“If you insist.”
After our allotted time on the throwing range was up, we headed into the attached café area to get drinks. Queuing to pay, we were informed that our drinks were complimentary. Winter was just about to question it, when a smooth, male voice came from behind us.
“Afternoon, ladies.”
I turned to see Creed, owner of Skirmish, his lips curving into a smile as he took the four of us in. His large muscular body was covered in grey suit trousers and a white shirt, and he had a suit jacket draped casually over one arm. His golden eyes glimmered with humour as Kinslee visibly flinched, and I bit my lip, trying not to laugh as I remembered the first time she’d been introduced to him. She’d had the same reaction then, too.
“Creed. I’m guessing you’re the one behind our free drinks?” Winter smiled at him. He inclined his head.
“I am. I was making the rounds, stopping in on my way back to London, when I noticed your car outside,” he told her. “Couldn’t leave without saying hi.”
“This is Raine,” I interjected, giving my friend a gentle nudge forwards. Unsurprisingly, she had a similar reaction to Kinslee, which seemed to amuse Creed even more.
“Always a pleasure.” He stepped away from us, lifting his hand. “Drinks, food—whatever you want, it’s on Skirmish.”
After he’d gone, we made our way to a large table in the corner of the café. “That guy gives off some seriously scary vibes, doesn’t he?” Raine pulled the wrapper off her straw. “Or was it just me?”
“Thank you!” Kinslee exclaimed. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks so.”
Winter laughed, leaning back in her chair. “He’s gorgeous, though, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” we all agreed at once, then laughed.
“He’s a good guy,” she continued. “Or maybe good isn’t the right word, because he’s neither good or bad. He’s…he’s just…Creed.”
“Yeah, that guy is all kinds of shades of grey.” I dug in my pocket for my phone, which was buzzing annoyingly.
“Fifty shades?”
“Ha ha. I heard there were like a hundred different actual shades.”
I tuned out the conversation as I saw the name on my screen and navigated straight to my messages.
West: Having fun?
Me: Yeah. I got the highest score in knife throwing *grin emoji*
West: No surprise. You’ve got skills
A smile spread across my face.
Me: What are you doing?
A few minutes passed before I got the next message, and it was worth the short wait. He’d sent me a selfie of himself, Cass, Cade, and Z, all hot and sweaty from their football match. He was grinning straight at the camera, at me, while Caiden had my brother in a headlock and Zayde was tipping water over his own head. He’d written “just finished football” under the picture.
My smile grew wider, and when I received the next message, I knew I was grinning like a lunatic.
West: Wish you were here
I set the image as my phone wallpaper, then sent back a one-word reply.
Me: Same
Under a minute later, another message came through.
West: Do you need a lift home? I feel like taking my baby for a drive now it’s not raining
Me: I’m assuming you’re referring to your car as your baby AGAIN *eyeroll emoji* But if you want a drive I won’t say no
West: 20 mins. Wait for me
THIRTY-SIX
My DBS rolled to a stop outside Skirmish, and my gaze went straight to Lena, waiting outside the entrance. When she saw me, a smile curved over her lips, and my heart stuttered. Her smile grew wider when she slid into the car, and I loved that I was the one to put a smile on her face.
“Hi.” Leaning across the car, I cupped my hand around the back of her neck and drew her into a kiss. She pulled away much too quickly for my liking, laughing at whatever face I was pulling.
“Hi, friend.” She emphasised the word, making me groan.
“Don’t remind me.”
Another laugh escaped her. Clipping her seat belt into place, she turned her attention to the view as I navigated away from Skirmish. “Where are we going?”
“Dunno.” Pausing at the car park exit, I glanced in both directions before manoeuvring onto the road. “I just felt like driving, and I wanted to see you.”
“Oh.” Her voice was quiet, almost unsure. I felt her eyes on me as I turned the wheel to the right, heading back in the direction of Alstone. Fuck, I wanted to touch her so badly.
“Talk to me,” I said instead.
We talked for over an hour about any
thing and everything as I drove around without a destination in mind. Even though we’d known each other all our lives, everything felt new. Which I guess it was—we were connecting on a different level now.
After a while, the sidewards glances began again. From both of us. When we stopped at a set of traffic lights, my hand “accidentally” brushed over her thigh. As we sat in another queue of traffic, she repaid the favour, stroking dangerously close to my swelling dick with a sultry as fuck smile on her lips.
I couldn’t take much more of this.
Once we hit the coastal road, I drove for a while longer before bringing the car to a stop on the clifftops. Next to us, a winding path led down to a small cove, but it was raining again, so I remained in my seat, reclining it back as far as it would go and unclipping my seat belt.
My eyes met Lena’s.
The atmosphere in the car thickened.
In a flash, she was out of her seat and straddling me.
“I want you so fucking much.” My voice was hoarse against her ear.
I half expected her to remind me of the friends thing again, but all she said was “There’s not much room.”
“Mmm. We can make it work.” Kissing down her neck, I slid my hands under her top, stroking across her skin. “Tell me what you want.”
“You. I want you.” She ground herself down on my dick. Fuck. I needed her.
Even though I didn’t want to stop, I had to make sure. Raising my head, I stared into her darkened eyes. “Even though we’re—”
“Friends with benefits,” she murmured against my lips, and I smiled. Yeah, I was in total agreement with her.
I carefully turned her around on top of me, helping her to slide her leggings down her legs. She kicked them off along with her boots, then pressed back against me, tilting her head and baring her neck to me.
“Mmm.” I took the hint, dropping kisses down her throat as my finger skimmed over her underwear. She was so fucking ready for me. “You want this just as much as me, don’t you?”
