Page 41 of Kingston
For what feels like forever, I simply stand there staring at him, willing the words to come. My voice is raspy and hoarse from disuse, but I manage to accuse him all the same. “Youfuckedher.” Despite how harsh the words feel tearing from my throat, I continue. “You can’t treat her like your personal slut.”
There are very few people in this world I’ll speak to. Kingston is one of them. And I’m so pissed right now, I don’t hold back. The words claw and pull angrily from my throat. “Did you hurt her? Her goddamn shirt was ripped.” I step forward, getting right in his face, aggression filling every fiber of my being. I have the element of surprise on my side when I put both hands flat on his chest and shove hard.
He stumbles back a few paces. “Settle the fuck down, Cannon.” He regains his footing easily, and his green eyes glint harshly at me. He’s only a couple inches shorter than me and just as muscular. Hard to say who would win in an actual fight.
He didn’t answer my question, and this nonchalant attitude of his makes me want to rage at him. More raw, gritty words erupt from me. “Don’t be a dick. I asked if youhurther.”
Kingston wets his lips, but ever so calmly meets my eyes. “I didn’t hurt her. Like you said, Ifuckedher. Two different things.”
That’s all it takes. I swing, and my fist connects with his jaw, snapping his head to the side. Enraged, my lungs work overtime to gulp in air. My entire body heaves with agitation.
As soon as Kingston shakes off the blow, he touches his fingers to his jaw, wincing.
Archer scowls, apparently having caught Kingston’s statement. He waltzes into the room and shuts the door behind him. Eyeing the way we’re facing off, he rubs a hand over his lightly stubbled cheek and shakes his head in dismay. “And here I thought it was Cannon I’d have to keep in line when it came to Elliot.”
That’s the truth. I’ve been trying to hold myself in check so I don’t scare the shit out of her. I haven’t ever fixated on a girl so badly. I haven’t stopped thinking about having Elliot. She stormed into my head and took up residence there. It’s like my mind is no longer my own. I’ve known since the moment I saw her I would have her. I simply didn’t expect Kingston to get therefirst.
He rolls his eyes at Archer. “What the fuck ever. As if you haven’t been watching her with your dick in your hand every chance you get. I can’t help the way she riles me up. What happened tonight obviously needed to happen. And if you must know, she asked me for it. Begged me to fuck her.”
“Bullshit.” The word shoots from my lips right before my jaw locks hard. Motherfucker is about to get punched again.I’m done.The cagey way he’s acting is too much.
Archer wets his lips, looking from me to Kingston. “Are you two about to really get into it? Because I’m way too tired to play referee.”
Kingston’s focus is solely on me as he growls, “He’s the only one picking fights this evening. Go to fucking bed, Cannon. It’s been a long night.”
“Fuck off.” My breath rushes from me in furious jerks. I haven’t said so much in one stretch in years. That alone should tell him how much he’s upset me.
Archer twists his lips, studying our friend. “K, you keep saying she doesn’t belong here. But correct me if I’m wrong—the truth is you hate that you want her. It’s obvious. I don’t claim to know how she truly feels about this situation she’s found herself in with the three of us. But that seemed like punishment.”
I grit out the minimum words needed as I shake my head, angry. “It’s crazy. The video. Now this.” Waiting for his answer, my teeth grind. I already suspect whatever bullshit he’s about to spew won’t make me feel any better.
Kingston shakes his head grimly. “It was a goddamnhatefuck, okay?” He rolls his eyes. “We both got worked up and it happened. That’s it.”
I shake my head, glaring at him. It’s more than hate, and he knows it. I spin on my heel, only sparing Archer a quick look before I walk out.
I take a few steps toward Elliot’s room but think better of it. Instead, I head downstairs. In the kitchen, I pace for several minutes with my hands laced over my head. The entire house is eerily quiet.“Fuckhim.” Alone, my anger seethes inside me. Knowing he had her first is going to make me insane. All her softly scented skin…
It takes me several minutes to calm myself. There’s got to be something I can do. Thinking about Elliot, well, I feelshittythat this is how her night has gone, so I can’t imagine how she feels… what a dumb fucking thing to think, I know she’s gotta feel way, way worse.
In the cabinet above the coffee maker, where all the mugs are, there’s a tin of hot chocolate mix. I don’t drink the stuff because I really watch what I ingest, but this seems like the sort of gesture Elliot might appreciate. I set the tin and a mug on the counter, then duck down to search one of the lower cabinets for a pot.
I warm some milk, stirring continuously so it doesn’t scald, the way my mom taught me. When I was little and upset over something that happened at school, she used to bring me into the kitchen and make me hot chocolate. I found that watching her follow the same steps—like it was a little mini ritual—every time she made it helped. It soothed me in a way not much else did when I felt like my body was out of my control.
When the milk is hot enough, I remove the pot from the burner and spoon out the powdered mix into the mug. I carefully add the milk, stir, then search the cabinet for marshmallows. With the hot chocolate ready, I return upstairs, careful not to make any noise. I don’t know if Kingston and Archer are asleep yet, but I don’t need them aware of what I’m doing.
Outside Elliot’s door, I test the knob. It’s locked. Not that I thought she was going to leave herself wide-open to someone entering without her permission or anything, but it would have been handier to not have to put the hot chocolate down. Sighing, I stoop to set the mug on the floor, then stand back up and feel around on the top of the doorframe for the weird flat key that lets us into any room in an emergency.
Is this an emergency?Ugh, no. It’s not.But it feels necessary. I hope she doesn’t view this as a violation of her personal space. Then, to make myself feel better, I tap lightly and listen to see if she’ll come to the door. Ever so faintly, the sound of running water greets my ears. The shower. I sink my teeth into my lip and unlock the door, trying to keep myself under control while my dick immediately goes to half-mast.
The first thing that hits me when I enter is how this room already smells distinctly like her. Sweet, like a treat I’d like to devour. Of course, maybe it’s because the scent of whatever gel she uses to wash with is wafting through the slightly cracked bathroom door along with the steam from the hot shower. Which means she’s probably already in there.Fuuuck.
I leave the mug of hot chocolate on her nightstand next to her phone where she’s sure to see it, then pause, eyes trained on the door. I would give my left nut to push it open and do terribly dirty things to her. But that’s not what she needs right now. And if I was angry with Kingston for his actions, then I definitely shouldn’t do something similar. I’m no fucking hypocrite.
But then I hear it. She’s singing quietly to herself in there. Not even the good acoustics of the bathroom can hide that she’s adorably off-key. The sassy little spitfire who’s thrust herself into our lives has a vulnerability, however small.
I stride purposefully across the room to the door of the en suite to hear her better. Bracing my hands on either side of the doorframe, I rest my forehead lightly against the door, my head bowed as I listen.
Huh. I recognize the song she’s singing. It’s “Dirty Thoughts.” Chloe Adams, if I’m not mistaken.Sexy.
