Page 66 of Honey Bee Hearts

“Relax, bro. It ain’t love,” he says, as if that’s reassuring.

“She doesn’t deserve your particular brand of heartbreak,” I growl.

“I know that,” he growls back, his mask slipping a little. “That’s why it was just sex. One time, and it’ll never happen again. I just had to get her out of my system. Now I can pretend it never happened.” I blink in disbelief. When laughter tumbles from my throat, Rhett narrows his eyes on me. “What?” he growls. “Why are you laughing?”

“You’re an idiot,” I reply, shaking my head again. “Fable Everhart isn’t the kind of woman who leaves your system. It’ll only get stronger now.”

Rhett storms up to me, a snarl on his face. “It’s already gone!”

I look into his eyes, see everything that he is. Rhett and I, we’re close, not only because his parents adopted me, but because of their loss. The honeybee tattooed on the side of myneck is a symbol of that, of the family they all became, of the brother that I gained. In his eyes, I see the emotions he can’t hide from me. I see everything.

“You can lie to your damn self,” I tell him gruffly. “But you can’t lie to me.”

He blinks. “I’m not lyin’.”

I thump him on the shoulder. “Leave her alone. Let her enjoy herself, but don’t chase her anymore.”

Rhett crosses his arms. “I wasn’t plannin’ to.”

“I mean when you realize you’re wrong,” I say, turning away from him. “And you will. You should let it go when that happens.”

His mask slams back into place. “Maybe you need to act on your need for her, big dog. Otherwise, she’s going to slip through your fingers.”

A distraction. An attempt at redirecting back to me, reminding me that I’m just as into her as he is, that I could make the same mistake. But I’m not as foolish as Rhett. His years as a womanizing asshole has convinced him he’s heartless, but Rhett has the biggest heart of us all. He just doesn’t realize it.

“As she should,” I grunt, glancing back at him. “She doesn’t deserve my trauma any more than she deserves yours. I have enough brains to know that. I thought you did, too.”

Rhett’s expression shutters. “Yeah, whatever,” he growls, turning to storm away.

Sly chitters at my shoulder and I nod. “He’s in for a rude awakening, but that’s on him. It ain’t on me.” I hand Sly a cracker before glancing at the stables again, wondering if Fable is okay.

Chapter 36

Fable

Gunnar is always in the stables, so I’m not surprised when I call his name in the large building, and he pops out of a stable just before Houdini’s head does beside him.

“Fable?” he says, frowning. “You good?”

“Hey. Can I talk to you?” I ask, shifting on my feet. I know what I must look like right now. I hadn’t stopped to clean up. There’s honey and. . . I’m covered in sticky stuff, my clothing sticking in a weird way to me. It’s uncomfortable, but part of me also likes it. I reach up to push my hair back from my face and grimace when I find it sticky there, too. Fuck, what had gotten in my hair? I should have looked in a mirror before I came in here.

“Can it wait?” he asks. “I’ve gotta repair three more?—”

“No,” I interrupt with a wince. “I’m sorry. I’ll be quick.”

He frowns and looks me up and down, seemingly realizing my state of undress. He disappears and the sound of the metal latches clashing against each other as he undoes them reaches my ears. Houdini chuffs as Gunnar steps out and tries to snatch his hat, but Gunnar swats him away.

“Not right now, you big weenie,” he growls. At the tilt of my head, he explains, “he saw a mouse and nearly took us both out.”He goes over to wash his hands in the sink before coming over to me. “Is everything okay? Did something happen?”

“I. . .” I start, wincing. “I guess I shouldn’t dance around it. I owe you that.” I press a hand to my forehead, panic starting to flicker in my chest. I really like Gunnar. I like all of them, but I know this is going to ruin things. The thought of that has my eyes watering just a little and Gunnar catches it.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says, coming up to touch my face. When he finds it sticky, he frowns. I can see the moment realization hits him, the moment he understands why I’m here, and I choke on the guilt in my chest.

“I’m sorry,” I rasp. “I. . . I don’t know what came over me. He was out there and, and?—”

“Stop it, Fable,” he chides me, cutting off my panicked explanation. “Don’t be upset. It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But I feel like I did,” I croak. “I should have told him no. I should have?—”

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