69. Lorelei

69

LORELEI

K ian was almost right. Being in his arms again was almost enough to put aside just how fucking uncomfortable the pull-out is.

Almost.

Much to my frustration, he remained true to his word and mostly kept his hands to himself.

I respected the hell out of his need to do the right thing and not give my brothers any more reasons to have nightmares.

We kissed until long past midnight. It was incredible, and everything I didn't know I needed. Okay, I knew. I just refused to accept it.

But with him here, with my limbs entwined with his, it's impossible not to accept the truth. Everything makes more sense when I'm in Kian Callahan's arms. Everything seems easier, lighter, more achievable. I feel like a better person just because of his presence. Is that what real love is? Because if it is, I think it's safe to say that I've never experienced it before. I thought I had, but it seems every relationship of my past pales in comparison to this. I already knew that no other man could compete. But the feelings he evokes in me…they're beyond everything I've ever known. I'm almost as obsessed with them as I am him. Almost.

The sun is shining bright, the thin curtains at the windows no match for the ones that keep Kian's apartment in complete darkness until he's ready to greet the day. There is no chance of sleeping in this morning. It's just another of the things I hate about this place.

A groan from behind me lets me know that my bed buddy is rousing.

"I think my back is broken," he complains as he shifts his hips, ensuring his erection pokes me harder in the butt.

"Baby," I laugh, rubbing my ass back against him, making him groan again, only for a very different reason.

"Hmm, I could be convinced to stay lying on this rock for a little while longer."

"I gave you the option of a four-star hotel," I tease.

"I'd have chosen this every time."

He shifts again, rolling me onto my back and settling himself between my thighs.

"What time do your brothers wake up?" he whispers in my ear before nipping my earlobe.

"They're seventeen-year-olds," I remind him. "They're lucky if they're awake this side of midday."

He chuckles, his lips tickling my neck and sending goosebumps skating across my body.

"You're going to need to be quiet," he murmurs.

"What happened to respecting my family home?" I tease.

"I'm a patient man, Lorelei. But even I have my limits."

His palm lands on my breast, and a moan rumbles in my throat as my back arches.

"Kian," I gasp when he pinches my nipple through the thin fabric of my tank.

"Yeah, Temptress. I'm right here."

Dragging my tank down, his lips wrap around my nipple and he sucks hard enough to send desire shooting to my clit.

Suddenly, I regret my decision last night. Maybe I should have insisted he stay in the hotel and I should have gone with him.

"Please," I whimper when he moves to the other side, teasing me in only the way he can.

Sinking beneath the cover, Kian kisses down my stomach before tucking his fingers into the sides of my panties.

He's barely moved them when both of our cells start ringing.

"Keep going," I demand, reaching out and twisting my fingers in his hair to hold him in place.

A deep chuckle rumbles in his throat before he does as he's told.

But no sooner have our cells stopped than they start again.

"Fuck's sake", he mutters, moving so he can reach over the side of the bed. Lifting my arm, I look at my wrist.

"It's Tate."

"It's King," he says at exactly the same time.

We share a look before answering the calls.

This can't be good if they're both ringing.

"What's going on?" I bark the second the line connects.

"You dirty little whore." Tate laughs down the line while Kian climbs from the bed.

"He's done what?" he roars, ensuring that Wilder and Hendrix are also awake with dawn.

"What's going on, Tate?" I ask, my stomach knotting with fear.

"Someone has leaked photos of you and Kian on the beach last night."

"They've what?" I shriek, sitting up so fast it makes my head spin. Kian looks back at me with a mixture of fear and concern warring in his dark green eyes. "Who even knew that we were there?"

"We're trying to find out," Tate assures me.

"Find him," Kian demands. "I don't give a fuck what it takes. Find the motherfucker. No one does this to her."

My chest swells the second I hear the possessive tone in his voice at the same time acid drips through my veins.

"It was him, wasn't it? He's punishing me for turning my back on him," I say quietly as Kian gets swept up in a conversation with his brother.

"We don't know that."

"We do, though. No one else cares enough about what I'm doing with my life."

"We'll find him. And if it's him, he's going to regret it," Tate says dangerously. "King called Aubrey."

My breath catches. I love Aubrey. She's the kind of badass I aspire to be. But she's also dangerous as hell. You'd never believe it by looking at her, but uncover a few layers and she's freaking lethal.

"She won't let him get away with this."

"What will she do to him?" I whisper, hating how her promise makes me feel.

"Who gives a crap? He's trying to ruin your life. The things he's said. I'll?—"

"What?" I ask, confused. She said there were photos, she didn't say anything about words.

"Lorelei, please, just…stay off the internet today, yeah?"

I'm already lowering my cell as her voice rings through the line.

I type Kian's name into my search bar—because why would I type my own? No one knows who I am. But I very quickly discover that assumption is beyond incorrect.

Kian Callahan making the most of his new assistant after hours.

Kian Callahan's assistant isn't afraid to get her hands dirty.

And there are more. So many more.

My hand trembles as Tate's voice continues to fill the air, but I don't hear a word she says. Instead, I stare in horror at the news everyone is waking up to this morning.

"Kian," I whisper, tears filling my eyes.

He looks over and instantly freezes at what he sees.

"Get rid of it all, and then call me when you find him. Nothing else is worthy of a call."

He hangs up, throws his cell onto the bed and rushes over.

"It's going to be okay," he says, crawling onto the bed and taking my face in his hands. "King is going to get it all taken down."

There's movement elsewhere in the trailer before Wilder comes storming in, and he doesn't stop. Or at least not until he's dragged Kian from me and thrown him against the wall.

"What the fuck did you do?" Wilder bellows, getting right in Kian's face.

"Wilder," I cry, scrambling from the bed just as Hendrix comes running in.

"Dude, put him down," he states as I tug at Wilder's shirt, trying to drag him back.

"He didn't do this, Wilder," I cry. "Please."

Thankfully, my words get through to my brother and he releases his grip on Kian.

"It was someone else," I explain as I rush to Kian's side.

"Who?"

"That's what we're trying to find out. But I can promise you, I have nothing to do with it. No one has the right to talk about Lorelei like that," Kian says so fiercely it's actually a little scary.

"We think it's my ex," I explain as Wilder continues to glare at Kian with his chest heaving, ready to fight for me.

I appreciate it. I really do. But Kian isn't the one he needs to be glaring at.

"Where is he?" Wilder demands.

"We don't know," I say softly in the hope of calming him down. "Kian has people looking for him."

"But he's here. Do you have people here, Kian?"

"We will find him, no matter where he is," Kian explains calmly.

"That's not good enough."

"Wilder," I warn.

"Do you all want coffee?" Hendrix asks, sounding much more composed than his hot-headed twin.

"Yes," I all but cry. "Yes, we all need coffee."

Taking Kian's hand, I lead him back to our bed and tug him to sit.

He's tense. His shoulders are practically bunched around his ears.

"I'm sorry," he whispers as Hendrix demands that Wilder help him.

"Hey," I say, cupping his jaw and turning his eyes to me. "None of this is your fault. My relationship with Matt started long before there was anything here."

"I should be protecting you," Kian hisses, clearly irritated with himself.

"You are," I assure him.

"He's also targeting you because of me."

I swallow thickly, because he is partly right there. "He'd have done this no matter who came next in my life. He just lucked out that people know who you are, giving him a larger platform for his bullshit."

Kian's eyes bounce between mine as he absorbs my words.

"I'm sorry he ruined last night."

"Again, not your fault."

Wilder walks over with a mug of coffee for Kian, and he holds it out for him as a peace offering.

"Thanks, man," Kian says, taking the mug and almost instantly taking a sip.

The second the taste hits his tongue, his eyebrows shoot up in shock.

He tries to hide it, but he can't, and he ends up spluttering.

"I'm taking you all for breakfast," he announces, abandoning his mug and pulling his discarded clothes back on.

I want to argue, refuse to take his charity, but this time, I manage to keep my mouth shut.

He just wants to do something nice.

"That sounds great. Go and get ready—we can drop you at school after."

"Really?" Hendrix complains, obviously hoping for a day off.

"Really," I state firmly.

He rolls his eyes and I laugh.

"He just doesn't want to watch my fan club fawn over me."

"Too fucking right," Hendrix complains.

"Go and get ready, and we'll head out," I say before kissing Kian and walking toward the bathroom to clean up.

" C an I drive?" Wilder asks the second we emerge from the trailer.

"The kid with the concussion?" Kian deadpans. "Yeah, I don't think so."

"Dude, that's harsh."

"And yet true," Hendrix mocks as he pulls the back door open and climbs in.

Wilder blows out a heavy breath but does the same thing.

Kian is shaking his head, waiting with the passenger door open for me.

"Ignore them." I laugh.

"Never, they remind me far too much of me and my brothers," he confesses as he wraps his arms around my waist.

"I can only imagine," I muse, staring up at him with my heart pounding a little too hard in my chest.

What is it about Kian Callahan that makes all the ugly things surrounding us seem like nothing?

Of course, I feel totally violated that our private moment last night has been plastered all over the internet. Of course, the toxic things that were said about me stung, but they're just words written by a hurt man. A hurt man with a questionable state of mind.

It might be hot news in certain circles now, but give it an hour, and it'll be old and forgotten. Someone more famous will do something much more gossip-worthy.

"We were trouble," he says with a smirk.

"Some might say you still are."

"Touché."

My stomach growls as he holds me.

"I guess I should feed my girl. Do you know somewhere good to eat?"

"In this town?" I ask, cocking my head to the side.

Disappointment washes through his expression.

"Of course I do. There is only one place to go for breakfast."

I quickly peck him on the lips before dropping into the car, waiting for him to join us.