Page 11 of Kennedy

Kennedy glanced at Lewis. He had his head close to Seymour’s, and they were talking, probably about him. He wasn’t conceited. He just believed he and Lewis were mates, which meant that Lewis was probably explaining all of it to his brother.

“Well, I never got close enough to him to smell him, but his behavior points to the fact that we might be mates,” Kennedy offered.

Hawthorne nodded as if Kennedy’s words weren’t a surprise. “And what are you planning to do?”

“I want to confirm that he’s my mate first and foremost. Once I do, I can think of the next step.”

Hawthorne picked up the two coffees the girl behind the counter had prepared and held one out to Kennedy, who took it with a grateful smile. He hadn’t talked to anyone about what he thought was happening, but he was glad he had now. Hawthorne couldn’t solve any of this for Kennedy, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t support him. They were friends, and just like Kennedy wanted Hawthorne to be happy, he was sure Hawthorne wanted the same for him.

“Well, I don’t know much about him beyond the fact that he’s Seymour’s twin and that they’re very close, but he looks a bit skittish. Maybe take it slow and gentle, yeah?”

Kennedy snorted. “Didn’t Wallace move in with you almost right away after you finally admitted he was your mate?” That had been a whole ordeal. Hawthorne had panicked when he realized that one of the trainees was his mate and had used a spray created to shield shifters’ scent. That was why Wallace hadn’t realized they were mates right away.

“His father was after him,” Hawthorne said. “But you’re not wrong. I didn’t expect things to move so quickly between us, even though we’re mates. I guess the bond pulled us together more strongly than I expected.”

“I expect the same to happen to Lewis and I.”

“Probably, but your mate ran once. Maybe try not to make him run a second time.”

“That had nothing to do with me,” Kennedy argued.

He followed Hawthorne to the table where Seymour and Lewis were still seated. Seymour said something, and Lewis’s back went ramrod straight. For a moment, Kennedy felt sorry that his mate was so nervous at the thought of him being around, but he understood. They’d never talked, but with the bond between them, they’d probably spend the rest of their lives together. It was a daunting thought when they didn’t know each other at all.

“Seymour,” Hawthorne said as he nodded at the man. “Lewis,” he added. “I can return later if you’re not done with your lunch.”

There was an empty wrapper in front of Seymour, but the sandwich in front of Lewis looked like it had been tortured rather than eaten because Lewis had pulled it apart.

“Oh, we can talk,” Seymour said as he smiled. “And I’m sure that Kennedy and my brother have many things to say to each other, too.”

That pretty much confirmed what Kennedy had been thinking. He didn’t have the words from Lewis yet, but it was clear that Lewis and Seymour had discussed what was happening.

“Lewis,” Kennedy murmured.

His mate looked up, and for a moment, Kennedy lost himself in his green eyes. He knew this face, had seen it every day for the past few months, yet at the same time, it was so different from Seymour’s that Kennedy couldn’t look away.

Or maybe that was because it belonged to his mate.

“Hi,” Lewis murmured.

“Hi.”

Seymour rolled his eyes and got to his feet. “Kennedy, why don’t you sit down? Hawthorne and I have to talk about what I’ll do now that the program is over, and it’s going to take a while. Keep my brother company, will you?”

Lewis glared at him. “You’re not funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be. You can go back to the shop if you want, but you and Kennedy have to talk.”

“I shouldn’t have told you anything.”

“Maybe not, but you did, and now, I know.” Seymour stopped in front of Kennedy. “Welcome to the family. I won’t give you the shovel talk because my brother is old enough to defend himself, but I’ll remind you that you taught me how to kill someone in many different ways.”

He didn’t lower his voice, so Kennedy glanced around, but everyone was busy with their own meetings and coffees. Besides, even if they hadn’t been, they’d probably think it was a joke.

It wasn’t. There was a glint in Seymour’s eyes that told Kennedy exactly what he’d do if Kennedy hurt his brother. It might not be a shovel talk, but it was a shovel glare, and Kennedy would keep it in mind.

He had no plans of hurting Lewis, but that wasn’t how relationships worked. Sometimes, people in love, even mates, hurt each other. It was life and being human. That was how it worked.

“Actually, I think I’d feel more comfortable talking somewhere else,” Lewis said. “No offense, but I don’t want to talk with my brother staring at me from the other side of the room.”

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