18

My arms sliced through the water, each stroke pushing me farther in the expansive indoor pool. The surface rippled and shimmered, a cool embrace against my skin. Above me, the morning sunlight filtered through the towering windows, spilling golden beams that danced across the surface.

The silence was broken only by the gentle splash of my strokes and the distant echo of water lapping against the pool's edges. It was like I was in my own world, a serene bubble where the chaos of the outside couldn't reach me.

And in that world, I could think. Of last night. Of Bloom. Of how na?ve yet responsive he had been in bed. Sleeping with him was even better than I'd thought. I'd always known he would be amazing in bed. He was too wild, aggressive, and expressive to be anything else, but the connection I'd felt to him last night had been startling.

And terrifying because I was in too deep. Despite my medical background and knowing he wasn't in danger, last night when he'd been locked inside his head, unable to vocalize his thoughts, I'd been scared for him. His parents had done a number on him. With all the tragedy he'd experienced in his young life, how could I have so selfishly dragged him into my mess?

I knew Bloom. After sleeping with him, there was no going back. He'd already acted territorial, and he would only get worse.

What if one day I had to disappear without a trace? How could I leave him behind?

I sank deeper into the water, welcoming the numbing cold that engulfed me whole. The silence beneath was comforting—a temporary refuge from the storm brewing inside me. But as soon as I resurfaced, the reality hit me again with an overwhelming intensity. I might unintentionally become one of the people who hurt him most.

With renewed vigor, I plunged back into my strokes, going as fast as possible. My arms grew heavy, my muscles burning with exertion, but I didn't slow down. With every sharp turn, the water slapped against my face, the shock of cold serving as a stark reminder of what was at stake. I couldn't run from it, couldn't pretend it didn't exist.

I have no business getting involved with him.

Gasping for breath, I swam toward the edge and gripped it as if it were my anchor.

"Wow, you're an amazing swimmer."

I wiped the water from my eyes. Bloom, wearing one of my long-sleeve shirts with only half the buttons done, sat on the edge a few feet away, his legs dangling over the water but not touching it. He looked relaxed, a mischievous smile on his lips. He leaned back, face tilted, and his black locks tumbling down his back. The sun framed his face with an ethereal light. For a moment, I forgot everything else.

He's the most beautiful boy I've ever seen.

And he's mine.

"You're looking at me funny."

I blinked and inched over to him, swimming between his legs. He was calm this morning. Last night I'd been worried that I was too rough with him, but the time we'd spent in the hot tub seemed to have soothed his achy muscles. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

"How beautiful you are."

Bloom sat up straight, his eyes shifting, uncertain. "Really?"

"Yes."

"How beautiful?"

I smiled at his childishness. "It's not enough for me to tell you you're beautiful?"

He shook his head. "You know what I want to hear."

"That mind of yours is too complex for me to know that. Why don't you tell me?"

"I want you to tell me that I'm more beautiful than—"

I groaned. "Don't even say it."

"Nicholas."

He spat the name out like it was poison on his tongue. His gaze bore into mine, dark and demanding.

"Yes, you are more beautiful than Nicholas. Without a doubt."

"Tell me more."

I laughed. "Bloom, what is it you want from me?"

"Tell me I'm the most beautiful guy you've ever slept with."

"You are." I ran my hands up his thighs, unable to resist teasing him. "But who knows? Maybe in the future—"

"In the future, I'll cut off your balls, that's what!"

He lashed a foot out at me, and I almost sank as hard as I was laughing. I swam away from him. "You'll have to catch me first."

"Don't think because I can't swim, I won't come in after you."

He couldn't swim? Ah well, I inched closer to him to taunt him some more. "How are you going to reach my balls, Bloom? If you want them as a trophy, you'll have to—"

He scrambled to his feet and jumped, aiming right at my head. I swam away in a quick burst of energy, barely dodging his incoming body-crash.

Had he been joking when he said he couldn't swim?

Bloom stared at me with wide eyes and disappeared underwater. He shot back to the surface, arms flailing.

"You're going to have to do better than that to fool me."

Bloom splashed more water at me, his panic-stricken face barely above the surface. "I'm not fooling! I can't—swim!"

Did he expect me to believe him? Who jumped into a pool when they couldn't swim? Not even he would be that foolish.

He held my gaze for a moment, but then he spit out a spurt of water and sank again. And didn't resurface. The water rippled where he had been, then went still.

But then again, he's the same guy who stabbed himself in the thigh just so I could give him medical attention. Is there anything he wouldn't do?

My heart pounded in my ears, and I stopped laughing. "Bloom?" I called, but there was no response. "This is no longer funny."

Bubbles floated up where he had disappeared.

"Damn…" I muttered, diving underwater in search of him.

Swimming as fast as possible, I finally reached him. He looked almost peaceful, with his long dark hair floating like tendrils of ink. Shit, he truly couldn't swim.

I hooked my arm around his chest and kicked hard to propel us back to the surface. With a gasp, we emerged from the water, and the world righted itself. I dragged Bloom over to the edge of the pool and helped him out, then climbed out after him.

Bloom coughed violently, spewing water from his lungs. His skin was pale beneath the sheen of wet droplets clinging to it.

My hands shook as I touched his face. "Are you trying to kill yourself?" I snapped, but I regretted my harsh words as soon as they left my lips. "Why are you always so reckless? Doesn't it matter to you how devastated I would be if I lost you?"

"You said—"

"For fuck's sake, Bloom, you're the only one I constantly think about. When will you get that through your thick skull? I don't give a damn about anyone else. Only you. How can there be anyone else after you? Do you understand?"

He nodded weakly and climbed me with his arms and legs wrapped around me. His chest rose and fell erratically, and his heartbeat hammered against my chest. I tightened my grip around him.

"Do you think I'm crazy?" he whispered.

"No. I think you're impulsive and reckless because you don't value your life. I need to give those bikers a piece of my mind for raising you that way."

"My death won't mean anything. There's not even any record of my birth. No one would know I existed."

"Your brothers do. They care about you, though they piss me off for what they've gotten you into."

"Yeah, but with them, it's different. In our way of life, death is just a part of it. They'd miss me but move on."

"But what about me?" I stroked his damp hair away from his face. "I was so angry last night when you rode off recklessly because I was afraid you'd crash and die. We've just begun. I haven't had enough time with you yet. The way I feel about you, the time I'll spend with you will never seem enough, so you're not allowed to be so reckless again, do you hear me?"

"Logan." He placed his chin on my shoulder. "Do you really care about me?"

My throat clogged up, and tender words I hadn't spoken in ten years couldn't come. Not because I didn't care about him. Not because I didn't love him. People I knew had died because I cared about them.

"Let's get you into dry clothes."

"Logan, why are you avoiding the question? You led me to believe you didn't care about me all this time, but you just told me you'd miss me if I died. Why won't you ever be straight with me?"

"I acted the way I did because I thought it was better for you not to be involved with me."

"And now?"

"We'll see. Let go."

"No."

"I'm just taking you back to the bedroom so you can put on something dry."

"I'm still not letting go."

He tightened his grip on me. Sighing, I got to my feet with him wrapped around me. Dripping water, I carried him through the house. We were at the foot of the stairs when the doorbell rang.

I frowned. No one came to my home. Bloom was the first person I'd brought here with me.

"Get down so I can answer the door."

"Nope."

"Bloom, you're killing me."

"No, I'm loving you."

My stomach fluttered at the sweet words. I'd never have expected someone so dark to be so affectionate. He tightened his arms around me as if afraid I'd slip away.

"If you catch a cold because you're stubborn, I won't be happy."

"I'm warm enough."

The intercom buzzed again. I pressed the button. "Who's there?"

A voice crackled over the speaker, "It's Crowe. I see Bloom's motorcycle is here, so don't bother telling me he's not with you."

Bloom went stiff and shook his head. Pressing his lips close to my ear, he whispered, "Deny it. He'll be upset if he knows we slept together."

I frowned. What I did with Bloom was none of the biker's business. I had a few choice words I wanted to say to him anyway.

"Come on up."

I punched in the code to open the gates and the front door. A motorcycle engine rumbled up the driveway, and with a flurry of dust and rubber, Crowe was at the door before I could convince Bloom to get down.

The biker removed his helmet, looking imposing with his incredible height and the hard lines of his jaw.

Bloom hid his face in my neck. "Pretend I'm not here."

I rolled my eyes. "If you'd bothered to get down and put clothes on, I could have done that."

Crowe's gaze was disapproving as he climbed the steps. "You didn't come home last night."

Bloom remained silent.

"That's not how your selective mutism works, you frustrating little shit."

"Watch your language. Don't call him that. No wonder he has low self-esteem."

"You don't know shit about us, so keep your opinion to yourself."

I gritted my teeth. I was sure he had multiple weapons on him, but did I give a fuck? The way he talked to Bloom didn't sit well with me. This was the man who had raised him, albeit incompetently, given the way Bloom reacted to things.

"Look, you can rule the world when you're on the other side of that gate, but once you set foot on my property, you do what I say. This is my territory. Which includes him. You either accept it or get the hell out."

The silence that followed was deafening. Crowe stared at me, his icy blue gaze intense. His lips shifted into a crooked smirk, a sign of amusement, perhaps. He looked at Bloom, then back at me.

"Count your lucky stars," he said, his voice gruff but steady. "That little speech might have saved your life. I don't care if you're affiliated with the Grimm Reapers. If you hurt a hair on Bloom's head, I'll be the one reading your last rites."

So he cared about Bloom despite his rough demeanor and ignorant approach to raising the boy. I stepped aside. "You can come in."

Bloom groaned. "I thought you were going to send him away."

"You, shush. I'm not ready to deal with you yet." Crowe entered the hall, and I closed the door.

"Oh?" I raised my eyebrow.

"He knows the rules. We need to know where he is, yet he spent the night out without telling any of us." Crowe heaved a sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. "Bloom, will you get off the man for one second so I can talk to him?"

"No!"

I squeezed his ass, ignoring the way the biker's nostrils flared. "Be a good boy and do what you're told. Go put some clothes on."

"That's not fair." He pouted but shimmied down my body. "You better not hurt him, Crowe."

"Or else what? You gonna knife the man who saved you to protect your lover?" Crowe clicked his tongue as though amused.

"You'd make me choose?"

A soft expression crossed Crowe's face. My stomach churned at the way this hardened killer looked at Bloom with such tender possessiveness. Years of history were between them. This was the man Bloom was attached to the most, and the realization planted seeds of jealousy that squeezed my gut and wrung out every breath from my lungs.

"You don't have to worry about him," Crowe said. "I can tell you care about him, so as much as I still think you're not ready, I won't touch a hair on his head."

"Yes!" Bloom flew at Crowe and wrapped his arms and legs around the man like he'd held on to me. A volatile heat ignited beneath my skin at their too-intimate interaction. Bloom always stayed a mile away from others. He hated people. Except for me. And apparently, this man he was hanging on to while practically naked.

"Bloom, I think your worry was misplaced." The biker set Bloom on his feet. "You keep holding on to me like that, and your doctor's going to lose his cool and nail my head against the wall as an example to all other men who get too close to you."

Bloom's eyebrows knitted, clearly missing Crowe's point. "What do you mean?"

"Go put clothes on," I said gently.

He nodded with a smile and rushed up the stairs, giving me a perfect view of his pert ass cheeks. With the wet shirt he had on, everything was on display. I snapped my head around to see if Crowe was watching, but he looked at me, then dropped his gaze to my swimming trunks.

"I'd offer you some coffee," I said. "But I haven't made it to the kitchen yet."

"I'm not fond of coffee anyway, but I'll take a beer if you have any."

"Unfortunately, I don't. Iced tea?"

He shrugged. "Fine."

We moved to the kitchen. Crowe glanced around while I poured him a glass and handed him the iced tea. I got the coffee machine started, then leaned against the counter, arms folded.

"Nice, expensive-looking place you got here," he said.

"I'm sure you didn't come all this way to compliment me on my taste in houses."

Crowe shook his head. "Who would have thought you would be Bloom's type? He even listens to you. I can't get through to him lately."

"What is this visit about?"

"All right, let's cut to the chase. What do you want with Bloom? Well, obviously, I can see your interest in him is sexual, but he doesn"t have much experience and might take that interest to mean more. I'm here to see he doesn't get hurt."

"Rest assured, I have no intention of hurting him."

But I might anyway.

"I don't think you're understanding what's at stake here, Doc. Bloom's crazy about you."

"And I feel the same way about him."

"No, you don't." He rose to his feet. "You have no idea what that boy is like. He has an attachment disorder, which makes it difficult for him to connect with others, but when he does, it becomes an obsession. He'll have an irrational fear of losing you, which makes him do extreme things to ensure he doesn't lose you. You think him clinging to you and refusing to let go is bad? It's just the beginning."

I held his gaze, even though a chill ran down my spine. "Is that all?"

"He will hurt you and the people close to you who he thinks take your attention away from him. How much has he told you about his past?"

"Not much, but I understand he was abused as a child."

"Abused seems such a light word compared to what his parents did to him. The state doesn't even know he exists."

I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists. "And you never sought to correct that? You just let him grow up without an identity?"

Crowe's eyes flashed. "I did what was best for him."

"How is it best for him to not belong anywhere?"

"He belongs. He's a part of the club."

"That's easy for you to say. Sure, you're a part of the club, but that's not all you are, is it? You can walk away at any time, start a new life without a hitch. What else can he be but an obscure biker when, to this state, he doesn't exist? You've used him as a ghost to do your dirty work as an enforcer for the club, but did he ever get a chance to be himself?"

"Fuck you. You know nothing." Crowe slammed his fist on the island. "You have no idea how I found him. He was barely alive. He almost killed someone once simply because they tried to get him to take a shower. For years, he couldn't speak, and even when he didn't have to, he slept in a cardboard box rather than on a bed. I did everything I could for him, including giving him the name Bloom."

"Then why didn't you give him your surname to make him feel he belonged to a family?"

Crowe swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. He was silent, a conflict of emotions crossing his face. "You don't understand."

"Then make me understand how you've had that boy for what, eight, ten years, and he doesn't value himself."