Page 6 of Kink in the Road
I could feel the anger radiating off him. It burned ice cold, barely controlled behind his normally calm façade.
In an uncharacteristic move—and one that I would blame on shock—I stepped out of Aiden’s arms to wrap my own around Finn.
“Still,” I whispered against his chest. “Thank you.”
Finn remained stiff for a beat before his arms wrapped around me, squeezing me tight. “We should have intervened earlier.”
I memorized his smell—the mix of sweat and heat that clung to him. He’d removed his apron and chef whites, leaving him in a surprisingly clean black shirt.
I stepped back, an embarrassed flush heating my cheeks. “I should go.” I forced a rusty laugh. “Though who knows if I’ll be able to sleep after this. My adrenaline has certainly spiked.”
I felt them both stiffen.
“Or,” Aiden said slowly, exchanging a look with Finn. “You could stay.”
I raised an eyebrow in question.
“We could play a game.” He nodded at the table. “Just until your nerves settle.”
I glanced at Finn, who nodded, then back at Aiden. “You guys aren’t too tired?”
His slow smile unfurled a delicious warmth in my belly.
“Never for you.”
CHAPTER 3
The game felt like the antithesis of my previous match. The men were jovial and teasing, but maintained a respectful distance.
Too bad when all I wanted was to be disrespected by them in the bedroom.
Such was my life.
I sunk the ball in the far pocket and pulled back from the table, grinning in satisfaction. “Seems I won.”
“So it seems,” Aiden agreed, handing off the cue to Finn. “But we all know I’m a terrible shot.”
’Twas true. Aiden had to be one of the worst players I’d ever witnessed. For a man normally possessing of grace, he reminded me of a baby giraffe when a shot became available—all lanky limbs and uncoordinated movements. Adorable.
I waited for Finn to rack the balls, absently grinding chalk into the tip of my cue.
“Why did you look like you were going to cry earlier?”
Finn’s unexpected question snapped me out of my mini-daze.
“When?” I asked, frowning as he finished lining the triangle with the balls.
“When you first walked in.” He glanced up as he shuffled the balls to place the black eight in the center. “Did something happen at work?”
A weird lump formed in the center of my chest while a strange, not unpleasant, sensation squirmed in my middle.
“You were in the kitchen, how could you tell I was upset?”
Finished with the balls, he removed the triangle and hung it on the hook, blowing my mind with his offhanded comment as he did so.
“I always know,” he said, his back to me. “Every day you’re the light that sits at the end of our bar. And tonight...” He turned, his serious gaze finding mine. “You were shrouded in darkness.”
I glanced at Aiden, stunned by this revelation.
