And Kade can’t come between that.
“Because Reese Avery saved my life,” Kade says on a sigh. “And when it came down to it, I owed him the same. So I did that.”
“I don’t think Reese is your biggest fan,” I point out. “Didn’t he come to Sterling Falls to stop the Cyclopes?”
He inclines his chin. “He… yeah.”
“So you are going to clash at some point.” I move around the house’s footprint, toward the road. I’ll thumb a ride back to the beach or walk—it doesn’t really matter. The rubble blocks my view of the road and driveway.
Kade follows me.
“Presumably, yes, but I’d like to avoid that.” He sighs. “It’s not my choice.”
“What isn’t?”
“How this is playing out.”
I face him. Like this, I can’t help but flash back to our fight. I didn’t know him at the time, of course. Just the facelessAtlas, who remained silent during the briefing before the fights, who warmed up quietly in the corner on his own, who kicked my ass…
At some point in the future, I want a rematch.
No, need one. If only to prove that I can hold my own.
Kade examines me. “There are more moving pieces than meet the eye, Saint.”
Reese, Kade, Artemis. Jace and his friends. The sheriff? The Hell Hounds?
“So don’t let it play out the way it’s going,” I say.
He shakes his head and brushes past me. He follows the sandy path around what’s left of the house, and I trail after him. His burnt-to-a-crisp SUV is gone, replaced with a shiny new one.
“Some things are more easily replaced than others.” He opens the trunk, which faces the house, and unzips a bag. From it, he pulls out a pair of shorts.
Without warning, he drops his wet ones.
My gaze goes straight to his dick. I don’t know if the piercing is a magnet or the cock… It twitches to life, and I whirl around. I stand with my back rigid, until his low chuckle reaches my ears.
“It likes you,” he says. “Nothing to worry about, Saint. I won’t fuck you unless you ask for it.”
What the hell?
I spin back around, and he’sstillnaked. I ignore his lower half and stab a finger in his direction. “In your dreams.”
“Yeah. I’ve been cataloging your comebacks. I think they’re just suppressed desires. Biting…” His gaze heats. “Fucking.”
“No.” It’s actually laughable.
“Okay.” He shrugs. “Want a ride back?”
I stare at him. “I’m not getting in a vehicle with you.”
He waits. “You’ll chafe.”
“Maybe I’ll swim back.”
He scoffs. But the humor only lasts a second, and it morphs into something more serious. “Get in the car, Saint.”
“No.”
