Page 53 of Too Far

One is docked down on the beach, but the guys manning it are sitting wide-legged on the vessel and fiddling with their phones like they’re on break.

I stub my toe on the step and hiss as I find my footing.

“Careful, Mama,” Kendrick murmurs from behind. One hand finds my back, supporting me as I climb the last few stairs.

His fingers graze the waistband along the back of my leggings. The touch is featherlight but full of so much meaning. Iknowwe have to be careful. We’re all just trying to get through this week. But feeling K’s fingertips on my skin, knowing that he wants nothing more than to wrap me in his arms, it’s enough for now. It has to be.

“K, why—”

“Let Decker explain.”

Pressing my lips together, I resign myself to waiting for answers.

Kylian holds the door, but Kendrick weaves around me so he can enter first. They’re keeping me positioned between them, I realize, always making sure someone’s at my back and at my front.

Not that I mind. Kylian and Kendrick sandwiches rank pretty high on the list of my favorite combos.

I sidestep into the main living room and lean against a floor-to-ceiling window as I scan the space.

The DJ is set up in their usual spot, though the music is much lower than normal. The couches are all occupied, and the kitchen is full of people, too.

For all intents and purposes, it looks like a party. But the energy is nothing like the usual vibe.

Even when Decker strolls through the door, the mood remains muted. A few people call out congratulations. One guy approaches, arm extended, to commend them for the win.

The cameras are rolling, aimed on Decker’s every move, intent on capturing every second of the postgame celebration.

Yet everything about the scene surrounding us is fake.

“Joze! My girl!”

At the sound of those words echoing through the house, I shoot up straight and turn toward the kitchen to see Greedy striding toward me, wearing—I have to do a double take to confirm—Crusader’s red.

“His girl?” Kylian deadpans in the way only Kylian can, shifting just enough so he’s in front of me now.

I grasp his shoulder. “You know how he is,” I murmur, going for soothing. “Although now I’m even more curious about why he’s here.”

Kylian hums, never taking his eyes off Greedy. “The Sharks owed us a favor.”

His words don’t have time to register before Greedy is sidestepping him and scooping me up until my feet skim the floor.

“Damn. I haven’t seen you for ages. Where have you been, girl?” He spins me, turning us in a half circle so he’s standing between Kylian and me.

I have to look away immediately to keep from laughing.

Kylian’s livid, shooting daggers at the back of Greedy’s head.

Before I can quietly assure him that I’m okay, big hands catch my hips, gently but firmly dislodging me from Greedy’s grip.

“Careful, Mama,” K repeats in my ear, his low timbre husky and melodic. Goose bumps crop up along the length of my spine.

“Watch yourself, Greedy,” he adds, his voice a little louder.

I wiggle back, ready to sink into his hold. My back barely grazes his chest before he catches my arms to stop me. A second later, his heat disappears.

I glare over my shoulder, ready to put him in his place.

Only to be met with a look of frustration and agitation.