ECHO
A soft tapat my bedroom door rouses me from sleep. After Beckham and I cleaned up and fell back into bed, he’d wound his body around me like an octopus—didn’t want to let me go. I loved it. He’d given me a peek into his inner psyche, and I’ve never felt more in tune with him.
The door opens as I’m sitting up and rubbing my eyes. Royal pokes his head in. “Hey. Sorry, I didn’t know if you were awake. I’ll let you sleep.”
My voice scratchy, I murmur, “No. It’s okay. Come on in.” I glance at my phone in the charger. “Chase will be up soon, anyway, and then we won’t have much time to ourselves.” My lips quirk up on one side. “Our toddler is all about attention, and I can’t even fault him for it, you know?”
Nodding, Royal walks in. He’s shirtless with his joggers riding low on his hips and has a boyish grin on his lips that makes me think indecent thoughts. I do my best to shake myself free of them so I can focus, but I can’t help myself—my eyes roam over him, thirsty as can be. I’ve always thought Royal was so damn sexy, and things haven’t changed at all. I tug down the concert T-shirt I’d chosen to wear to bed, suddenly acutely aware that I’m only wearing that and a pair of cotton boy short panties.
He closes the door behind him, eyeing me as if he’s aware of the thoughts in my head. “Actually, Chase went downstairs with Wilder and Beckham. I think Kara was already making coffee. Anyway, Beck said he was starving, and Chase gave a rather emphatic ‘Me too!’so Wilder said he’d get started on breakfast. Looks like we’re now dealing with two human trash compactors. We’ll need to give Kara some money for eating all her groceries.”
My brows raise. “Wow, okay.” Lost in my own thoughts, I pull my knees to my chest and loop my arms around my legs. Eyeing him, I draw in a deep breath and nod. It’d seem that my mind is still having difficulties wrapping around how easily these guys fit into my life… and into Chase’s life, more specifically.
Easing off the bed, I head for the bathroom, gesturing to Royal that he should follow. He does so without question, watching me with a cautious eye. He’s always read me way better than I can read him. I stop at the sink, picking up my toothbrush while he leans against the doorframe. He’s waiting for me to say whatever is on my mind, but I don’t know if I’m in the proper frame of mind for it right now. Instead, I peek at him while I run some water, then bring the toothbrush to my mouth. “So, what’s the plan for the day, do you know? Besides the fight tonight. And how are we handling that?”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Wilder likes to be alone—it’s a pre-fight night ritual of his. He likes to get into the right headspace, and with this being his first fight against Bear Pierce, he definitely has a lot on his mind.” He stops speaking for a moment, and I glance over to find his jaw locked up tight.
Worry snaking down my spine, I lean over to spit the toothpaste residue, then rinse out my mouth. “Are you keeping something from me?” I stare at him wide-eyed as I turn and lean against the granite counter.
He blows out a hard breath, pushing away from the doorframe. He holds out his arms to me, and even though I’m unsure of what’s going on, I walk into them, letting him draw me close. Clearing his throat, his lips are in my hair as he murmurs, “Did you happen to give a second thought to his reaction the night of the murder?”
I ease back, staring into his pale-green eyes. “Yes. It shook me pretty hard to see him that upset. And I didn’t think Wilder was particularly squeamish either… he sees cadavers in his anatomy classes. But”—I pause to swallow, a hard lump forming in my throat as my anxiety levels increase—“I guess there’s been so much going on, I hadn’t found a time to ask him about it. It seemed like a topic he might be sensitive to discussing, so I kinda hesitated.” Wincing, I whisper, “I shouldn’t have waited. He was really shaken that night. And then to have to deal with his dickhead brother-in-law, too. It was all a lot.” I clench my teeth, worry overtaking me with every second Royal doesn’t expand on why he’s brought Wilder’s peculiar reaction up in the first place.
Royal clears his throat. “First, don’t take everything on yourself. I noticed, too, but held back for all the reasons you did. I think Beckham was the same.” He releases me, but takes my hand, pulling me along behind him back to the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he tugs me down with him, his hand resting on my back. “I hope this doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass, but… he had a bad nightmare last night.”
My mouth drops open. “Like how bad?”
He grits his teeth, touching a hand to his jaw. “Bad enough that he was making these terrible hoarse noises like he was screaming inside his head. He caught me with one of his fisted hands.”
I blink, taking this in. “Did he tell you what it was about?”
“Not for a long time. I was up with him half the night. We had to get his mind to calm first.” Royal’s lips purse, and he looks away from me, shaking his head.
Like a strike of lightning, I put two and two together… not what caused the nightmare, but what Royal might’ve done to help him relax. Setting that aside for a second, I chew on my lip, trying to decide whether I should probe a little more. “And once he was able to talk to you?”
From the corner of his eye, he peers at me. “I think it has something to do with his dad’s death. Has he mentioned that to you?” I shake my head slowly. Royal shrugs. “He’s very closemouthed about him and the circumstances surrounding what happened. But, yeah. He’s been dead since right before Wilder enrolled at Kingston University.”
My brain clicks along, putting together pieces. “That’s a little strange. Beckham’s stuff with his nanny—the end of it, anyway—that all happened right before he came to SIN as well, right.” So. I mouth, “Sin Keeper?” As if there’s anyone in my home that would care if we spoke openly about it.
“That’s how all three of us ended up at SIN. A card with instructions. An invitation to change ‘what never should have been.’ That’s how they put it. I have some assumptions about what Wilder was told to do. But no direct confirmation. The shit we’re asked to do varies widely based on what seems like strategic intentions.”
My head buzzes with what that could mean.
Finally, Royal grits out, “Let’s talk about something else. Please.”
I nod scraping my teeth over my bottom lip. “I think it’s nice that you’re protective of him. Wilder, I mean. Beckham, too, really. But lately, you and Wilder are getting pretty close, huh?” I shoot him an impish grin. “You gonna tell me how you calmed him down?”
Royal stares at his hands for a moment before angling his head toward me and pinning me with his gaze. His voice comes out rough, and more than a little flustered. “I think you already know.” As we study each other, his cheeks infuse with pink.
“And Beckham? How do you feel about him?”
He rubs his hands on his thighs. “I’m not sure. He’s my friend. I don’t know. You know Beckham. He’s kinda game for most things. Just don’t know yet if I am.”
“But you’ve thought about it.”
He raises a brow. “Echo,” he groans, but there’s a hint of an admission in the way he says it.
I truly am enthralled with the idea of all of us together in that way, but I won’t push. That’s not who I am. “’Kay. Changing gears. Can I tell you a secret?”
