58. Kian

58

KIAN

" T hat fucking grin, man," King says, slapping me on the shoulder as we step into the box reserved for us.

Lorelei practically fled to the bathroom the second she saw the sign approaching, and Tate quickly followed. I can only imagine what they're talking about right now.

"Fuck off," I mutter, picking up speed to get away from his smug ass.

"What? It looks good on you."

"Whatever," I say under my breath as I grab us both a chilled beer and walk toward the windows that allow us an unobstructed view of the field. The cheerleaders are out doing their thing, helping to rile the crowd up, ready for the game to start.

Just like always, a weird mixture of excitement and nerves flutters in my stomach as I think about our little brother being down in the locker room getting ready. He'll be solidly in the middle of his weird pregame ritual.

I smile. King and I used to roast him for it when we were younger, but it never stopped him from doing it, and even adding more over the years. It works for him, so I guess it doesn't matter how much we tease him.

"So, are you officially dating your assistant after what…two weeks?" King asks, reminding me that I'm trying to avoid his questioning.

I knew it was going to come. He knows me too well, and he's too damn nosey to keep his suspicions to himself.

But I could really do without the one-man firing squad right now.

Lorelei wants to go home after this game. That's enough for me to obsess over right now.

"No, we are not officially dating. We're?—"

"Fucking?" he asks, coming to stand next to me.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I tip my face toward the ceiling and close my eyes, praying for strength.

"Yes. No. I don't know."

"Well, I'm glad you cleared that up," King mocks.

"You're an asshole. Do you know that?"

"That's what big brothers are for, right?"

"I'll ask Kieran."

"You know you're going to lose the best assistant you've ever had, don't you?"

"Not necessarily," I mutter.

"Bro, come on. You can't be fucking around with your assistant and expect it to work out. You'll be a dick to her, and she'll get pissed and leave. Or…she'll meet someone else and move on because you can't offer her what she wants."

Jealousy bubbles up inside me like a volcano about to blow at just the mention of her being with someone else.

"How do you know what she wants?" I snap, unable to keep a lid on my emotions.

"Interesting," King muses, continuing to study me closely.

My fists curl with the need to punch that smug fucking look off his face. He always thinks he knows better. I know he's older and has a couple more years' worth of life experience, but that doesn't mean he knows everything.

"I don't want to be stereotypical here, but she's a woman, K. She might say she's only looking for a bit of fun, but I guarantee that she has one eye on the future."

I think about some of the things she's confessed to me, and my stomach knots.

He's right, I know he is, and I fucking hate it.

"We're just…enjoying working together," I muse, hoping it's enough to get him off my back. Unlikely, but it won't stop me from trying.

Thankfully, King lets the subject drop when I switch lanes and begin talking about work while we wait for the girls to return.

I want to say I'm fully focused as he discusses the British hotel chain he's still pining after, but honestly, I've got one eye on the door, waiting for Lorelei.

How the fuck can I miss her when she's been with me almost twenty-four-seven for the past few days? It's weird. I have never, ever craved another person's presence like I do hers.

The second the door opens, I turn away from Kingston, confirming—if he wasn't already aware—that I'm not listening.

"Hey," Lorelei says the second she finds me watching her.

"Everything okay?" I ask, studying her closely.

She smiles, but it's tight. "Of course. What have we missed?"

"Oh, nothing much," King says, wrapping his arm around Tate the second she's in reaching distance.

Seeing them together, getting to experience my big brother going all sappy for a woman, is pretty awesome, but this time as I watch his lips press against her temple gently, I feel different.

My chest does this weird lurch and I get the sudden urge to pull Lorelei into my arms and do exactly the same thing.

Only, I can't.

She's not actually mine.

It kills me to keep my hands at my sides and not reach for her. But I do it.

For her.

As if he senses that something is wrong, King glances at me, his brow furrowed.

"It's okay, you two can?—"

"The Chiefs are coming out," Lorelei says, cutting my brother off and stepping closer to the window.

I want to say that it's a good thing that the game starts, distracting everyone from the internal war I'm battling.I've never really given much thought to a woman's concerns before. Never needed to. But suddenly I'm holding back on everything I want to do because I know it's what she'd want.

What is this bizarre alternate universe I've found myself in?

T he Chiefs' win was easier than last week. I can't say that I was surprised. The Saints are in top form this year and probably their biggest competition for the Lombardi Trophy. But no matter how good the game was or how many touchdowns Kieran managed to score, I couldn't fully focus with Lorelei standing right beside me.

Is it always going to be like this now? Am I always going to be so aware of her presence, of every little move she makes?

Things haven't gotten any better since the four of us left the stadium and headed toward a restaurant of King's choice for dinner.

The food has been great—not that there's ever a concern about that if King is involved in the decision-making—but it's not the epic wings that Lorelei had last week. It's much…healthier.

I glance over at her as she tucks her cell into her purse as we get ready to leave.

She's been messaging on and off throughout the meal. It's her brother. She told him earlier today that she was heading to the game, and he's been messaging ever since.

Before, I'd have been worried that she was messaging her ex, or the douchebag she was sending titty pictures to. But I'm confident that she's lost both of them now thanks to that little block button.

Unease twists up my stomach.

She might have lost her ex's texts, but it's more than obvious he's still present in her life.

King and Tate take the lead, and I gesture for Lorelei to go ahead of me, although I'm not very far behind.

"Are you sure about this?" I ask quietly.

"It's my home, Kian. No one is scaring me off. I'm not a weak woman that?—"

I laugh. "I know that. Trust me, I do."

"I need to go home," she states, making my heart sink.

But what if I don't want you to?

I shake my head as I take the door from King and hold it open for her, remembering that I should be putting her first.

But would demanding she comes back to mine be so bad?

She'll be angry, sure. But Lorelei is hot as hell when she's mad. It would ensure some epic angry sex…I've never really experienced that before.

The car ride to King and Tate's apartment is much quieter than this afternoon. Tate is curled up against King's side, half asleep, and King's concern is on his wife. As it should be.

I shouldn't be complaining—at least he isn't focused on me and trying to figure all this shit out.

No sooner have I pulled up in the underground parking lot than King and Tate are out of the car.

"Have a good night, guys," Tate says, suddenly perking up.

"Take her to bed, King," Lorelei instructs, not taking any of her friend's teasing.

"I have every intention of doing just that," he happily confirms.

"For sleep. She's exhausted."

"Sure." He winks before nodding at me and taking off toward the elevator with his girl still tucked into his side.

"They're cute, aren't they?" I muse once we're on the road again.

"Ridiculously so. Tate deserves it."

"So does King," I agree before falling silent.

There are a million and one questions spinning around in my head, but I don't really want to voice any of them for fear of what the answer will be.

We drive for another five minutes before I summon the courage to ask the question King sparked in me earlier.

"Is that what you want?"

"Is what, what I want?"

"What King and Tate have?"

"A relationship?" she asks, sounding confused.

"Yeah, I guess. A relationship, a marriage, kids. The whole happily-ever-after thing."

"Of course," she says without having to think about it. "But sometimes I wonder if it isn't in the cards for me." Her voice turns sad, dejected even, and it pulls at my chest.

"What makes you say that?" I ask, pulling up to a stop light and glancing over at her.

"My choice in men. Every single guy I've been with has been a liar, a player, or just completely emotionally unavailable. It's like a curse. Karma, maybe."

"Why would it be karma?" I ask, confused.

Lorelei shrugs.

"My life…it hasn't been anything like the American dream everyone wants. It would be naive of me to think that it could change."

"Living our lives the way everyone expects isn't all that's possible. There is no rule that says you must get married and have two-point-four kids."

"No, I know that. I just…" She lets out a heavy sigh, and I feel it all the way down to my toes. "I want it. I want a normal, happy family life. I want to know how it feels."

"Lorelei," I breathe, feeling weirdly choked up by her confession.

"No," she snaps. "Don't do that. Don't pity me because?—"

"I'm not," I argue. "I would never pity you. I do understand, though."

She gives me a double take at that confession. "How?" she breathes.

I get it. I'm sure that on the face of it, from the outside, the Callahan family looks like one of those all-American families that Lorelei is dreaming of.

"I know our lives have been very different. But just because things may look good on the surface, it doesn't mean that everything is rosy beneath it."

"I guess not."

"I get that you don't want to talk about your past, your childhood, but please don't let that be because you don't think I'll understand. I promise you, I will."

My grip on the wheel tightens as my other hand sneaks across the center console and rests on her thigh.

She tenses the second I connect with her, but to my surprise, she doesn't push me off.

"What about you?"

"What about me, Temptress?"

"You want the happily ever after?"

My lips part, but before I can shoot out my standard response of "hell no," I second-guess myself.

"Honestly?"

"No, Kian. I want you to lie to me," she mutters. I don't look over, but I know she rolled her eyes at me.

"I don't know what I want. I've always worked too much to ever really consider anything else. And I've certainly never met a woman who's made me think that it might be worth trying for."

I pull the car to a stop outside her apartment and gaze up at the building.

Please don't go in there.

"It must be hard when you're such a workaholic."

"King's figured it out," I counter before turning to look at her."I guess that's what happens when you fall in love."

My eyes bounce between hers, my heart steadily thumping against my ribs.

"Yeah," she agrees sadly. "Must feel pretty awesome, huh?"

When I don't respond straight away, she reaches for the door handle.

"Wait," I demand.

She instantly pauses, but she doesn't look back at me.

"I need to go home, Kian. Thank you for…for everything. I really appreciate it."

"But—"

"It's time to go back to reality. I'll see you at work in the morning, Boss."

Before I get a chance to respond, she's out of the car and rushing around to the trunk to grab her bag.

I reach for the button to open it for her, hating myself for not getting out and being a gentleman.

But if I do, I'm not sure what I'll say, what I'll do. And call me a pussy or whatever, but I'm not ready for that, and I know for a fact that she's not.

I hit the button and the trunk releases, but I'm unable to stay inside.

"Fuck," I breathe before pushing the door open. I climb to my feet and wait for her to walk toward the entrance of her building.

"Please," she begs. "Don't follow me."

I swallow thickly. "You know I can't do that."

"Kian," she breathes as I step up behind her.

"I can't leave until I know everything is okay. Humor me."

She twists around to look back at me, but something down the street catches her eye and she sucks in a sharp breath.

I follow her stare but find nothing.

"What is it?"

"Cat," she explains before taking a step forward, leaving me to trail behind her, telling myself that I'm going to do the right thing.