Page 80 of The Bonds We Break

“Where are we spending Christmas?” Rae asks, looking up at me with those blue eyes of hers that make me want to tell her we can spend it anywhere she wants to.

She’s stone-cold sober; I’ve had enough beer to take the edge off. I keep it simple. “Not decided yet.”

“I’m sure Spark can fit you in if you all want to join us,” Saint says.

“Clutch’s brothers are coming home to spend Christmas. He’s invited me to spend it with him and Gwen.”

“They are?” Saint says.

“Where are his brothers?” Rae asks.

“When their mom died, their aunt filed for custody of the two younger ones, seeing Clutch’s dad had been in prison. Clutch stayed with me and Dad, and she took the two younger ones to Florida. Now they’re older, I guess they get more of a say.”

“I love that they get to spend time together,” Rae says. “I’ll speak to Clutch about some strategies for making these kinds of reunions work.”

I can’t help but smile at her. “Of course you will, duchess.”

Both Saint and I watch her walk towards Clutch, who is perched on a stool, with Gwen by his side, watching Spark coach Iris on how to pot a ball. They’re all laughing, and it does my heart good to see my men happy.

“She’s happy,” Saint says, echoing my thoughts.

I turn to face him, unsure what to say.

Saint huffs. “You’re happy too. With her.”

I take a sip of my beer to wet the sudden dryness in my mouth. I’m supposed to say I’m not. I’m supposed to tell him that I fuck her because I can. That when the six months are up, I’m going to toss her ass to the curb and get on with the rest of my life. But right now, I’d rather choke on those words than say them.

Saint reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. It makes me tense. Things might be thawing between Rae and I, but I’m not sure I’m ready to be Saint’s friend again. While tonight softened things a little, I’m still not in a place to fully forgive him yet. “It’s okay to be happy, King. God knows it’s hard enough to find joy in the life we’ve chosen. But it’s there. And, trust me, it’s worth the pain.”

“Is it?” I ask.

The motherfucker smiles. “Yeah. It is. And I can count on one hand the number of people Rae has chosen to love. If you’re one of them, you should shout that shit from the rooftops. She trusts no one, and yet she’s trusting you.”

I look back over to Rae and wonder what it would look like if we made it.

Nights like this.

Camping trips and bike runs.

A home filled with sex and love and big words I don’t understand but will make like I do.

And Rae curled up next to me every night.

As if sensing my thoughts, she returns to us and playfully wiggles beneath my arms, which are currently folded across my chest. “You okay, big man?”

I kiss the tip of her nose, then brush those red lips of hers. Saint leaves us. I hadn’t apologized. But that moment just then, it felt like a start.

“Yeah, duchess. I’m really fucking good.”

29

RAE

King rolls off me the following morning, and my heart pounds as my body throbs. I don’t know what he and my brother talked about last night, but there is a different kind of energy around him.

We’ve had sex three times since we got home. I came once. My batting average is increasing. It’s an incredible feeling to know that my sexual responses aren’t as broken as I thought they were.

Self-worth shouldn’t be defined by anyone else but yourself. I know this. And yet, I can’t help but be buoyed by the idea that King struggles to keep his hands off me. That I turn him on. That I meet his needs. That he worships my body. That I’m worthy of a virile man like him.