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“This isn’t… how do you know that this is real?” He’s not telling me it isn’t. He’s asking me, searching me, probing my darkness and my light because he needs answers too.

Is that what he’s been worried about this whole time?

My heart clenches up unmercifully. “You mean, given the first opportunity, would I leave?” I ask, keeping my voice as gentle as possible.

He shifts off me, pulling me with him, curling me up in his arms. He drapes his body over mine, covering my nakedness. It’s thoughtful that he cares, but if we’re keeping it real, I’d be happy to get up on the table and dance naked for him. I’d eat dinner naked. I’d cook it naked. I’d paint naked.

Or paint him naked.

That would be great too.

He strokes my hair away from my forehead, his rough hands unbelievably gentle “We were never supposed to be here for good.”

“Do you want to be?”

I focus on his lips. I don’t want to distract him by kissing him, but I’d really like to do that again. And again. And again. Kissing him is like being near him. I need it in order to breathe.

A myriad of emotions flicker over his face. I remember the first time I saw that happen and marveled that he’d allow himself to be so open. He was a surprise. A contradiction. A mystery. It’s so hard to believe that in reality, it wasn’t all that long ago.

In the hardest parts of life, you can age ten years in a single day.

“The club is a brotherhood. It feels more like home than any place I’ve known in years. But you hate that. It’s the last thing that you’d ever want.”

I mirror what he just did for me and brush the hair away from his forehead, revealing the scars. I twist the strands around my finger. His hair is soft, even with the styling product in it, but I can’t wait to wash it for him and run my hands through it after.

I actually just can’t wait to wash him. Period. I’ll commit every detail of how he looks when he’s soaked to memory.

“It’s not the last thing I’d ever want because what I want is for you to be happy. Family is important. It’s everything.” I didn’t realize how lonely he must have been. I didn’t even think , and what the hell is wrong with me? I mean, I did, but not properly .

There aren’t many people who a man like Dravin could properly relate to.

Even if he never says a word about his past, I know there have to be men at the club that would understand by merit of themselves sharing something similar.

That past bonded Dravin to my brother. For better or worse, it’s why we’re here now.

Those parts of him are not just going to go away.

If I care about him, then I have to care for all of him.

“That’s what I want for you.” His kisses my temple. “For you to be happy.”

I’ve never heard his voice so close to breaking.

“I think this is what we need to do. Figure out how to get from now to tomorrow, and the rest will take care of itself. You can plan for the future because you’re you, and you’re never going to stop.

But there are some things you just can’t micromanage into being, or into going away.

I’m glad we did this.” I kiss his forehead.

“So glad.” I kiss his cheek. “I trust you.” His nose.

“Even when it’s scary.” The twisted scars on his temple.

“Especially when it’s scary.” His jaw. “I want to be close to you.” His throat.

“I’m not changing my mind about that.” His lips.

“So, let’s go shower. We’ll get the rage music on.

I’ll wash your clothes. Everything will be alright. Do you believe me?”

“Yes.”

He tells me straight up, but I know him well enough now to see how his eye ticks. “You’re such a liar,” I say, but keep it light enough to laugh. “But we’ll figure out a way to make that our truth. Couples’ goals and all that.”

“After I tell the club that we’re not related.” He plays up the gagging.

“Yes. That.” I should force him to give me a timeline or promise that he will, but I don’t want to talk about this. I just want this moment that we have together, right now. “Let’s shower and get our rage music on.”

“Kael.”

“Just the rage then? I’m all up for angry sex.”

“Kael.”

“If you don’t stop saying my name in that tone, I’m going to suggest to the club that you’re taking Daddy Dray as your biker name.”

He struggles to keep a straight face and loses the battle. “Thank fuck I’ve already picked one.”

“Oh? Do share. But quickly. I’m really excited to get to the suds and tugs.”

He groans. “You’re insatiable.”

“When it comes to you rearranging my insides and making it hard to walk… always.”

He shakes his head, but I can tell he’s getting used to me. Is half of what I come up with said just for shock value because he needs to be shocked? Of course. “The things you say.”

“Do you want to wash my mouth out with soap? Or maybe something else?”

“It’s Viking.”

“Oh. Right. I think I did know that.” The guys called him that weeks ago at Crow’s tattoo shop. “But why Viking? You don’t look like one at all unless you’re a punk rock badass biker Viking who just happens to have emo hair.”

“Vikings moved all around. They explored. They conquered. They were fearless, battle hardened warriors. But mostly because they were so nomadic. I’ve never stayed in one place for very long.”

“But you’ve wanted to.” He nods. The silence gets heavy. I offer him my pinkie finger, smiling to break the tension. “If this is where you want to be and it’s still where you want to be next month or next year, we’ll make it work. I swear it.”

He grasps my hand in his, swallowing my finger, binding us together with the weight of the same promise he made my brother. There’s nothing childish about it.

He’ll be here. He’ll fight for me. He’ll protect me. I already know all of those things. This is more. Dravin was all around me before, but he was never at my side.

Now, he is.