Page 52 of Fractured

The funeral.

All the things that made me want to hide my head in the sand for a year.

Then last night came rushing back to me. My evening with these four was everything I needed to end a shitty day. We’d talked into the early morning about my mother, my father, me. Everything I’d bottled up and never wanted to show anyone. If I was honest, I also thought no one would ever want to see those pieces of me.

Much less treasure them.

With each mundane story I told, the strings connecting us grew a little shorter. I was sure the liquor had something to do with it, but after it had worn off, I’d retained some of that hard-won comfort.

Granted, we didn’t talk ofthatday any more, and they didn’t ask. What they did want to know was my happiest memory, what my favorite bedtime story was. Who I grew up with. They were so focused on me, and I’d reveled in their attention.

Today though… Today, I’d have to go back out into the world, and I could already feel part of the confidence they’d nurtured in me last night recede a little.

Not yet though.

I was supposed to have dinner with Harper. She knew how important Randolf was to me, but she let me have yesterday to myself. Funny.

Before Atticus pulled in with Saint, Kenzo, and Ambrose, I would have said I’d have preferred to grieve in solitude. They were showing me that maybe I didn’t enjoy being alone as much as I’d thought I did. I’d just pretended because I thought I needed it.

Harper wasn’t expecting me at her place until about five, so I had hours before I had to say goodbye to Atticus and Kenzo.

Ambrose had to leave to get some work done, but he’d promised to come back tonight. Saint had left too, although him leaving spoke of something different. He said he was committed, and I believe he had meant it, he was just unsure of this type of relationship.

At least, that was the way it seemed.

Now that I’d sufficiently woken myself up with unwanted thoughts, I stretched my arms over my head, dislodging Atticus’ tight hold on me.

He peered at me through one cracked eye, probably waiting for my answer.

“Good. I’m feeling good,” I whispered. Apparently satisfied, he nodded and closed his eye. In seconds, he was softly snoring.

Quietly, I climbed out of bed and padded softly to the bathroom. Once I’d emptied my bladder and brushed my teeth, I moved to the kitchen after I made sure the guys were still sleeping.

It wasn’t until I was half done with my cup of coffee that Kenzo stumbled out of the bedroom, looking downright adorable with bed head and Avengers’ boxers. He scratched his stomach as he flopped down next to me, stealing my cup for a hearty gulp.

“I can make you your own, you know.” I waited until he was done. “Never mind, you finished mine off.”

“I’ll make you a new cup. Just give me a few minutes to wake up,” he said through a yawn. “I tasted a decent amount of cream and sugar. Right?”

I nodded and stacked up my sheet music. There wasn’t really a point in studying it anymore, but it was part of my routine. I’d taken it out and reviewed each piece. Most especially my solos. It helped instill the calmness I’d woken up with, bringing me back down to zero. Now that Kenzo was up, I had other things to occupy my time.

“’Kay. Am I interrupting?” He dipped his head toward the papers now on the end table.

“No. I was just passing some time. Do you want breakfast?”

“I’ll get something when I get up. I’m not a huge breakfast eater, so a granola bar or something if you have it.” He pushed his feet out and hooked them on the bottom of the coffee table. The muscles in his thighs flexed, and flashes of our time at the beach flickered in my head.

Out of my control, my gaze traveled to the tent in his boxers. Then a hand waved in front of my face.

Glancing up, I blushed at the smirk on Kenzo’s face. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He lifted me from my spot next to him to straddle his lap right over his hard cock, and my hands landed on his shoulders from the sudden change of position.

Biting my bottom lip, I thought of a hundred different ways he could make my morning better. Most of which included multiple orgasms. His hands ran up my thighs to cup my ass under my sleep shirt. The cotton cheeky underwear was no match for him as he slid his fingertips underneath and pulled my cheeks apart. The stretch was just enough to burn and set my libido on fire.

“How about we skip breakfast?” he murmured, his gaze tracing over my nose, lips, then down to the V between my thighs. The colorful tattoos on both forearms moved as he tightened his hold on my ass.

Rolling my hips once more was the best way to agree. I speared my fingers through his slightly long dirty blond hair and yanked his head back so I could kiss and nibble on the column of his neck. Light stubble tickled my face just under his beard.

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