Page 16 of Second Goal

When he reaches out and brushes my hair behind my ears, my words are lost. “I don’t think it’s irresponsible that you want to help people. I love that about you.”

Love.

Don’t read into his words, Kiley, my head warns. How many times has he made comments about not believing in love? Too many for me to count. But I can’t help but lean into his touch.

And then the moment is gone.

He clears his throat and takes a step back. “After I make this call, we should talk. There are things...” His frown deepens and the intensity of his gaze has a knot forming in my gut. “I spoke with Kane.”

“Oh.”Shit.He told him about the money, about me and Cruz. Shit, shit, shit. I try to swallow, but I can’t, all I can do is whisper, “Okay.”

I watch him turn and head to his bedroom. A moment later, I hear him speaking to someone about coming to change the locks on my door. But I wonder if it’s even necessary, considering Kane is probably debating whether or not to kick me out.

He’d warned me when I’d moved in that this wasn’t a three-strike system.

In the kitchen, I pull out a bottle of whiskey rather than the pizza box from the fridge. My fingers shake as I pour a large glass, then drink it quickly.

It burns straight to my core.

“They can’t come tonight—” Kade stops in the entrance of the kitchen and frowns at the bottle of whiskey. His lips thin and his jaw tics, then he says, “Pour me a glass too.”

I do, hand still shaking when I pass it to him.

His throat bobs when he drinks the contents, still watching me.

Silence stretches between us. That pull that’salways there, so much more intense than normal. And so is the frown that tugs at his lips.

“Okay, I’m ready for it,” I say.

“Ready for what?”

“Whatever you’re trying not to say right now.”

He sighs. “You’re an adult, Kiley. And you’re right, it’s not my job to lecture you.”

A small, forced laugh escapes my lips. “Come on, I can see you want to. Isn’t it your job to tell me what I can and can’t do?”

“Even if it was, you wouldn’t listen.”

“No. Probably not.”

His knuckles brush across my cheek with so much tenderness I swear I feel something inside me break - or heal. “I worry about you.”

I lean into his touch, wanting more. Needing more. “You don’t have to.”

“Yeah, I do.” He leans forward. “Trust me, I’ve tried not thinking about you. But I can’t. That’s why I told Kane.”

That knot comes back, sitting like a rock in my stomach. “He won’t understand. He’s going to—”

“He did actually. He gave us permission.”

“Permission?” I frown up at him. “For what?”

“To figure out whatever this thing is between us.”

I blink at him, not sure I heard him correctly. “I don’t understand.”

He moves quickly, one hand moving to tangle in the hair at the nape of my neck, the other on my lower back. His mouth crushes against mine. The kiss isn’t soft. It’s full of need. And the suddenness of it, the intensity of pleasure that hits me, shocks me to my core. Desire surges through me, a blast of heat so brilliant it feels blinding. Our tongues meet, stroke, an erotic dance that has my body weakening, leaving me helpless to his touch.

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