Page 11 of Knot So Fast (Speedverse #1)

UNWELCOME TRUTHS OF AN UNCERTAIN PAST

~ A UREN~

Walking between Kieran ahead of me and Luke behind me feels like being caught in some kind of invisible force field.

The tension radiating from both men is so thick I could practically cut it with a knife, creating this weird bubble of authority and protection that I've never experienced before.

But I have to admit, it's working.

No guards have even attempted to step near us during our walk back to my building. Even the building security guards— who normally won't even make eye contact with me when I'm solo or with Luke —are suddenly going out of their way to avoid getting close enough to open the doors for us.

It's like Kieran's presence has created some kind of invisible "do not approach" sign that everyone can read except me.

The contrast is jarring.

Usually, Luke and I have to deal with suspicious looks, occasional harassment, and the general attitude that an unmated Omega and her Beta companion are somehow inherently problematic. Today, we might as well be walking with royalty for all the deference we're receiving.

When we reach the private elevator that leads to the luxury apartment I somehow managed to afford after the accident— though I'm still fuzzy on those details —I fumble for my access card. Before I can even pull it out of my pocket, Kieran is already pressing his palm to the scanner.

The automated voice that responds makes my jaw drop: "Welcome, Mr. Cross. Access to Mrs. Vale's suite loading."

Mrs. Vale?!!

I gawk at the scanner, then at Kieran, then at Luke, who just shrugs with the kind of expression that says he's not even surprised by this development.

"This is one of those 'ask questions later' situations," Luke says with resigned amusement. "And to forewarn you, the two of you fight like cats and dogs, so I'm not getting into whatever this is about to become."

I groan and roll my eyes toward the ceiling of the elevator.

"Why am I never in simple relationships? Why can't I just have normal, uncomplicated interactions with people?"

"You're not a 'simple' girl," Kieran mutters, his voice carrying that same amused tone that Luke gets when he's pointing out something he considers obvious. "You're too chaotic to even manage an average Alpha. Look at your Beta—he's basically a grenade ready to explode half the time."

"Fuck off," Luke snaps, his protective hackles rising immediately. "And I haven't forgotten what you all did in Budapest, so fuck you too."

Kieran simply smirks at this response, and that's when I really take him in for the first time since this whole encounter started.

Jesus Christ, he's actually hot.

Like, stupidly attractive in a way that makes my brain go a little fuzzy around the edges.

I'd thought his hair was black from a distance, but now I can see it's actually a dark blue shade when the elevator lighting hits it just right.

His eyes are what really mesmerize me though—dark with various hints of brown that shift and change like expensive whiskey in candlelight.

There's an intensity to his gaze that makes me feel like he's seeing straight through every defense I've ever built.

The elevator begins its ascent to my floor, and I find myself needing to break the silence before the tension suffocates all of us.

"Shouldn't you be at work right now?" I ask, genuinely curious about why he was at the track this early in the morning.

Kieran glances at me with raised eyebrows.

"Do you even remember what I actually do for work?"

I pause, searching through the foggy mess that passes for my long-term memory these days.

Nothing comes up except vague impressions and that nagging sense of familiarity that I get around certain people.

"Nope," I admit with a sweetness that I know probably sounds patronizing. "But refresh my memory."

He gives me a look that's equal parts exasperated and amused, like I've just asked him to explain quantum physics to a toddler.

"Kieran hates wasting oxygen on explanations," Luke helpfully supplies. "Fair warning."

I cross my arms and fix Kieran with my most determined stare.

"Well, sucks to be you, because you'll have to tell me what you do for a living or we're not getting to my place." To emphasize my point, I reach over and press the emergency stop button, causing the elevator to jerk to a halt between floors.

Luke immediately groans like I've just sentenced him to death by torture.

"Do we have to do this now? Can't we wait until we're somewhere with coffee and the ability to escape if this goes badly?"

"Yes, we have to do this now," I say firmly. "And why are you being so chill with this Alpha anyway? Tell your Beta senses to man the fuck up and be protective or suspicious or something."

Luke pinches the bridge of his nose like he's fighting off a migraine.

"God, I'm reminded what a pain in the ass you are, especially without all your memories to give you context for situations like this."

"I don't want to hear that from you of all people," I counter, scowling at him. "You're supposed to be on my side here."

We're both glaring at each other now, locked in one of our typical stubborn standoffs, when Kieran simply cuts through the tension by answering the original question.

"I'm a racing instructor," he says, meeting my gaze directly. "I teach rich kids how not to kill themselves in expensive cars they don't deserve to drive."

The way he says it makes it clear he has zero enthusiasm for his job, but at least now I understand why he was at the track this morning.

I study his expression, looking for clues about why someone who clearly knows how to handle himself around cars and racing would be stuck teaching spoiled brats instead of doing something he actually enjoys.

"Happy?" he asks, one eyebrow raised in challenge.

I pout slightly but remove my hand from the emergency stop button, allowing the elevator to resume its climb toward my floor.

"Doesn't seem like you like it," I mutter, unable to shake the feeling that there's more to this story.

The elevator comes to a smooth stop at my floor, and when the doors slide open, Kieran walks out ahead of us.

As he does, he answers my observation.

"I don't."

He leaves it at that, walking toward my apartment door like he knows exactly where he's going.

Luke and I share a look that's equal parts confusion and resignation before following him down the hallway.

Kieran reaches my door first and stands there waiting, hands casually shoved into his pockets like this is the most normal thing in the world.

"Do you have a key to my place too?" I ask, only half-joking at this point. Nothing would surprise me anymore.

He doesn't answer directly, but there's a cunning smirk playing at the corners of his mouth that makes my stomach flip in ways I'm not ready to examine.

"Don't answer that," I groan, realizing I probably don't want to know the extent of his apparent access to my life.

I unlock the door and swing it open, gesturing for both men to come inside.

"You're probably hungry," I tell Kieran, falling back on the basic courtesy my parents drilled into me before... well, before whatever happened to them. "You can have breakfast with us if you want."

Kieran frowns, checking his watch.

"I have work."

"You just said you hate it," I point out logically. "So why do you care if you're a little late?"

He doesn't answer, but I catch him watching as I start to strip out of my sweat-soaked crop top. The sports bra underneath is perfectly decent, but there's something about the way his gaze tracks the movement that makes my skin heat up.

"There's clearly a stranger here," Luke reminds me with the tone of someone who's had to point out social conventions to me before.

I shrug, continuing to peel off the damp fabric.

"If he has access to our building and knows where we live, he's probably seen my drunk naked ass dancing on the kitchen island or worse. At this point, a sports bra is basically formal wear."

Kieran's smirk deepens as he moves toward my refrigerator with the casual familiarity of someone who's been here before. He pulls out a bottle of sparkling water like he knows exactly where everything is located.

"It wasn't on the island," he says with obvious amusement.

I pause in the hallway, halfway to my bedroom, and look back at him.

"Where was it then?"

His grin widens as he deliberately pats his groin area, and my entire face erupts in a blush so intense I probably look like a tomato.

"Jesus Christ!" I curse, mortified. "Let the door hit you on the way out!"

He chuckles, the sound rich and warm and entirely too appealing.

"I'd be happy to stay for breakfast."

"Fuck no," I snap, my embarrassment making me more aggressive than usual.

I look to Luke for backup, but he immediately puts his hands up in surrender.

"I'm not entering this battle," Luke declares. "Either rock-paper-scissors it out, or give up and move on. I'm not picking sides in whatever weird history you two have."

I groan in frustration.

"I always lose at the most simplistic games!

It's not fair!" But even as I complain, I know I'm fighting a losing battle.

The combination of Kieran's apparent knowledge of my living situation, Luke's refusal to help, and my own curiosity about what exactly my relationship with this man used to be is wearing down my resistance.

"Fine," I huff, throwing my hands up in defeat. "He can fucking stay. But I'm taking a shower first, and if either of you finishes the last of my good coffee, I'm committing murder."

I stomp toward my bathroom, muttering curses under my breath about complicated men and lost memories and apartments that apparently have more security access than a government facility.

What I really need is a cold shower to clear my head and give me time to process whatever the hell is happening here.

As I reach my bedroom door, I can hear Luke and Kieran talking quietly in the kitchen, their voices too low for me to make out actual words.

But there's a familiarity to their interaction that suggests they know each other better than either of them is letting on.

I close my bedroom door and lean against it, taking a moment to breathe and try to organize my thoughts.

The morning started with a simple run and has somehow evolved into me discovering that a man I barely remember from the hospital has access to my building, knows intimate details about my drunk behavior, and apparently has some kind of complicated history with both me and Luke.

The amnesia that resulted from my accident is supposed to be temporary, according to my doctors.

They keep telling me that memories could come back at any time, triggered by familiar scents, sounds, or situations.

But so far, all I've gotten are these frustrating glimpses—moments where I feel like I'm on the verge of remembering something important, only to have it slip away like water through my fingers.

Kieran definitely triggers that feeling.

There's something about the way he moves, the way he looks at me, the casual familiarity with which he navigates my space, that suggests we have a lot more history than a few hospital visits.

The question is whether that history is something I want to remember or something my brain is protecting me from.

As I start the shower and wait for the water to heat up, I can hear the low rumble of masculine voices from the kitchen.

They're not arguing, which is probably a good sign, but there's definitely tension there.

Luke mentioned something about Budapest, and whatever happened there clearly wasn't pleasant.

I strip out of the rest of my workout clothes and step under the spray, letting the hot water wash away the sweat and confusion of the morning. But even the familiar routine of my shower can't wash away the questions that are multiplying in my head.

Why does Kieran have access to my building?

How well did we know each other before the accident?

What happened in Budapest that Luke obviously hasn't forgiven?

And most importantly, why does being around Kieran feel both comfortable and dangerous at the same time?

The water runs over my skin, and I find myself thinking about the way he looked at me when I was stripping off my shirt.

There was recognition there, familiarity that went beyond casual acquaintance.

The kind of look that suggested he'd seen me undressed before, possibly in contexts that had nothing to do with drunken kitchen dancing.

That thought sends a different kind of heat through my body, one that has nothing to do with the shower temperature.

Whatever our history is, it's clearly complicated and probably involves more than just friendship.

As I wash my hair, I make a mental note to corner Luke later and demand some real answers.

He obviously knows more about my past relationships than he's been letting on, and his protective instincts toward me suggest he's been shielding me from information he thinks might be harmful.

But I'm tired of being protected from my own life.

If Kieran Cross was important to me before the accident, I deserve to know why. Even if the truth is complicated or painful, it's still mine to deal with.

The sound of laughter from the kitchen— actual, genuine laughter from both men —makes me pause in my hair washing.

Whatever tension existed between them seems to be easing, which could be either a very good sign or a very bad one, depending on what they're bonding over.

I hurry through the rest of my shower routine, suddenly eager to get back out there and figure out what exactly I've stumbled into. The morning has already been full of surprises, and something tells me the revelations are just getting started.

As I reach for my towel, I catch myself hoping that whatever comes next, it might finally give me some real answers about the life I can't remember.

Even if those answers turn out to be more complicated than I'm prepared to handle.

Because at this point, complicated is starting to feel a lot more appealing than the blank spaces that have been haunting me for months.