She expels all the air in her lungs, tears welling, and I can see the smile hiding behind her stubborn mouth.
Her eyes drop to my lips again, she comes in, and then …
Red lights flash across her face.
She pulls away, and I look behind me, seeing the fucking red and blue gumballs of their neighborhood rent-a-cops.
I turn back to her, but she’s moving away, a coy look in her eyes. “I don’t think you have these cops on your payroll,” she taunts.
I match her steps. “Call them off.”
“And let them think they can leave me alone with you?”
She backs up, around the stairs, and I stalk her. The front door hangs open, the frame splintered. It’s an obvious break-in. They will take me in.
“Krisjen …” I scold.
She smirks. “I’ll tell Trace.”
Like he’s her protector now. She’s daring me.
I arch a brow. “I raised that boy to share.”
“You just want your turn, is that it?”
My turn? I break into a smile, the police lights getting closer.
She falters, seeing my amusement. “What?”
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
She continues to back up, and I match her step for step. “What if I’m pregnant?” she asks.
I pause, my heart beating faster. “Are you?”
“I could be,” she says. “It would be one of your brothers’.”
No.
It wouldn’t.
“It would be mine,” I tell her.
She breathes out a laugh. “Do you think Trace would agree that his child belongs to you?”
She better stop fucking talking about having anyone else’s kid.
“It would be mine,” I bite out. “Trace had a vasectomy as soon as he turned eighteen. He doesn’t want kids.”
She slows her steps. She didn’t know that.
“And Iron and Army always wrap it up,” I inform her. “I had to feel you.”
“But you didn’t come inside of m—”
I cock my head, and her chest caves.
I didn’t come inside of her … tonight.
