Page 46 of Beautiful Scars: Unshakeable

"No. You listen to me Levi Reeves." Her fingers tighten around mine with surprising strength. "I'm exactly where I want to be. With exactly who I want to be with. So please, just let me have this moment—this happiness—without your guilt or whatever other bullshit is running through your head. Don't spoil this for me. For us."

I have no argument for that. None at all. When she turns the same determined look on Zane, I see identical surrender in his expression.

But then I catch Sunny's gaze bouncing between Zane and me, her brown eyes warm and satisfied, and a different kind of panic starts creeping in.

Shit.

It was one thing in the heat of the moment—this morning everything felt natural, inevitable. But now, I'm not entirely sure what the fuck I'm supposed to do with any of this.

Zane shifts his weight, and I find myself suddenly fascinated with a spot on the wall above his head. Him and I have fought side by side, killed together, been through hell and back—but watching him with Sunny, letting him see me with her—

Fuck.

Every time our eyes accidentally meet, we both do this ridiculous, awkward dance of looking anywhere else. We're acting like two kids who got caught with our hands in the cookie jar.

And, that's exactly how it feels.

I want to say something, break this weird tension that's crackling between us, but what the hell do you say to someone you consider your brother after spending a morning together like that? 'Thanks for helping me make our girl come'? 'Nice work back there. Good job buddy'?

There's no fucking playbook for this situation. Zane and I have always shot straight with each other, brutally honest, but right now it's obvious we're both seriously out of our depth.

The worst part is knowing Zane probably feels just as awkward as I do. We're supposed to be these tough guys, leaders, but right now we're just two idiots trying to pretend we didn't just cross every invisible line that's ever existed between us. That we didn't just turn our brotherhood into something else entirely—something deeper, maybe, but hell if I know what to call it or how to navigate it.

Sunny bites her lip, obviously trying not to laugh at our obvious mutual suffering. She's thoroughly enjoying watching us squirm, and somehow that makes it both better and infinitely worse. She knows exactly what she's done to us, how completely she's changed everything. And damn if I don't love her even more for it, even while I'm sitting here feeling like I'm fifteen again and have no idea which way is up.

"You're both being absolutely ridiculous," Sunny murmurs, stretching in the sheets like a satisfied cat.

The movement draws both our attention despite our awkwardness, and for a moment I forget how to breathe. She's still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and now she's ours. Somehow, impossibly, she's ours.

I lean down, pressing my lips to her temple, breathing her in. "Can't help it, Angel. Overthinking is what I do best."

"You're perfect," Z whispers against her skin, and I feel the words as much as hear them.

The tension eases as we both focus on her, dropping soft kisses along her shoulders, her neck, her face. This is easy—when we're both simply loving her, worshipping her, and not thinking about what any of this means for us.

"You feel amazing," I breathe against her collarbone, letting my hand trace down her side, gliding over every curve.

"So beautiful," Zane adds, as his fingers ghost over her hip.

A loud, unmistakable growl from Sunny's stomach interrupts the moment.

"Maybe we should get some actual food in you," Zane suggests with a grin, pulling back slightly.

"Coffee first," I add, already missing her warmth as I start to move away from her. "Definitely coffee first."

Sunny pouts, but another demanding growl from her stomach makes her sigh in defeat. "Fine. But I need a shower first. I probably smell like..."

"Like us," I finish, unable to keep the possessive satisfaction out of my voice. "You smell like us, and I fucking love it."

She blushes beautifully at that, but doesn't disagree.

I stand, reaching for my jeans on the floor, hyperaware of Sunny's eyes following every move I make. When I glance back, she's not even trying to hide her appreciation, her gaze trailing over my body with open, hungry desire.

"See something you like, Angel?" I can't help teasing.

"Mmhmm," she hums, shifting to get a better view as Zane also starts getting dressed. "Two very nice somethings, actually."

The brazenness of her stare, the confidence in her voice, makes my blood run hot. This isnotthe same woman either of use crawled in bed and went to sleep with last night.

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