Page 24 of Unmask (Crew of Elmwood Public #2)

KAYLOR

B rock’s eyes locked on me first before glaring at Kreed still in my bed, smirking smugly with his hands resting suspiciously near my thighs. Kreed had the nerve to look unapologetic, his chin lifting as he met Brock’s glare head-on, testosterone flooding the room.

I smacked Kreed’s hand off me. “Brock—” I started, sitting up straighter, yanking the blanket up with me. Thank God, I still had my clothes on and we hadn’t been… I didn’t want to even think about Brock walking in my room in the middle of Kreed and me having sex.

“Get your hands off my cousin,” Brock thundered at Kreed, low and loaded with enough steel to make even Kreed flinch.

Oh hell. I hadn’t even had coffee, and already we were diving headfirst into a brawl. I shot Kreed a look that screamed don’t. Don’t get cocky. Don’t provoke him. Do. Not. Start.

But Kreed’s smirk deepened like the damn devil’s son he was.

Before either of them could say something they’d regret or throw punches, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up between them, holding up both hands like a human peace treaty.

“Okay,” I said, voice firm, grateful that the oversized tee I wore hung mid-thigh and Kreed hadn’t gotten the chance to remove it.

“Everybody, calm down. No one’s dying this morning. Not before breakfast.”

Neither of them looked away from each other, like two lions circling the same damn territory. The air between them practically vibrated with tension as they waited for the other to make the first strike.

“Brock, nothing happened,” I lied. Or maybe it was half true. “I swear I was about to tell him to stop.”

“Liar,” Kreed muttered under his breath but not so quietly that Brock hadn’t heard.

Brock’s eyes flicked to mine. “Why is he here?”

I hated disappointing him. “It’s a long story, but he was just leaving,” I gritted, throwing a glare over my shoulder at Kreed.

The bastard didn’t budge.

“Bullshit,” Brock hissed, glaring harder.

“He’s right,” Kreed muttered behind me. “I was definitely not?—”

I turned and shot him a look sharp enough to draw blood.

“—leaving,” he finished anyway, unfazed. “I told you. I’m not leaving you alone. Not in this house. Not at school. Nowhere.”

I groaned, dragging a hand through my hair. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Can we not do this right now?”

Brock took a threatening step forward. “Get dressed.” His glower shifted to Kreed. “ And you, get out of her bed.”

“Brock,” I said louder this time, planting a hand against his chest to stop him from charging. “I’m okay. There’s no reason to make this into something bigger than it is. We just slept. That’s it.”

He finally looked at me. Really looked. Some of the tension bled out of his shoulders but not enough. “That’s not what it looked like,” he said roughly. “And trust me, I know what he was thinking.”

Fuck. Why me?

Now was definitely not the time to admit I’d kissed Kreed first. I sighed, tugging at the hem of my shirt, feeling the heat crawl up my neck. “It doesn’t matter. He didn’t force me into anything.”

Kreed let out a dry chuckle behind me, the twinkle of his nose ring mocking me. “Don’t defend me. It’s cute but unnecessary.”

“I’m not defending you. I’m trying to stop you from getting a punctured lung or a cracked rib,” I hissed out the side of my mouth.

Kreed moved to the edge of the bed, dragging his gaze up and down Brock’s frame. “You don’t think I could take him?”

“I don’t want to find out,” I retorted.

“I’ve always wondered if I could,” Kreed said, eyes gleaming now with the glint of a challenge.

“I’m game.” Brock cracked his knuckles, shoulders rolling like he was warming up. “Trust me, I’ve been dreaming of getting my hands on you.”

Kreed tipped his head. “Usually, it’s the girls who say shit like that to me, but hey—I’m flattered.”

“Kreed,” I snapped, whirling on him, “I swear to God. Shut. Up.” I turned back to my cousin, my expression pleading. “Give me five minutes. Please.”

Brock’s eyes narrowed like he was calculating how many bones he could break in exactly five minutes. “Make it two. I don’t trust you alone with him for longer than that.”

Kreed laughed, low and smug. “Smart man.”

Brock didn’t find it funny. He glowered at Kreed one last time, eyes full of warning, before stepping back into the hallway. He muttered something under his breath, probably about how many different ways he could bury a body, and stalked off.

I turned toward Kreed, who was now lounging against the side of the bed like he hadn’t nearly ignited World War III. His black T-shirt clung to his chest, rumpled and slightly twisted from sleep, and his boxer briefs rode low on his hips.

Ugh, I despised how good he looked in the aftermath of chaos.

“I really hate you,” I muttered, grabbing the nearest pillow and smacking him across the face with it. The sound was muffled but satisfying.

Kreed caught the pillow one-handed, unbothered, that devil-may-care grin already tugging at his mouth. Before I could retreat, his other hand snaked out, fingers wrapping around my wrist with practiced ease, tugging me off balance until I stumbled forward, right between his legs.

My breath hitched as my knees brushed the inside of his thighs.

“No, you don’t,” he murmured.

Unfortunately for both of us, he was probably right, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.

Or him. Or the way his touch turned my spine into liquid steel.

“Last night changes nothing between us,” I muttered, placing my hands on his shoulders, trying to create space I didn’t actually move into.

Now I had to go downstairs and deal with my cousin.

The pad of his thumb caressed the inside of my wrist. “And this morning?”

“Never should’ve happened,” I whispered even though the lie sat like glass in my throat.

His smile slipped, just barely, and I hated the speck of disappointment I caught before he looked down. His hands fell to his sides, fingers twitching like he wanted to grab me again and couldn’t justify it now.

I stepped back, the space between us stretching with every inch.

He let me go.

Brock wasn’t joking about his threat, which gave me a single minute to throw on a sweatshirt and hoodie and use the bathroom. Kreed was waiting for me when I emerged, looking far too calm for what we were about to face.

I’d deal with him later.

I could only handle one freaking problem at a time, and currently, Brock was a more pressing matter.

Following behind me, Kreed and I headed downstairs. Voices carried from the kitchen, and I realized Brock hadn’t come alone. Kreed’s elbow brushed mine as he came to walk beside me through the hallway, and I snuck a glance at him, seeing the amused expression morph into an unpleasant frown.

He was outnumbered.

I took a deep breath before we rounded the corner, my eyes sweeping through the packed kitchen, and I blinked. The whole damn crew was here. My cousin’s crew—the Elite.

Brock stood by the counter, coffee in hand, arms crossed in a brooding statue form. Josie was perched on a stool beside him, legs crossed, her hair in a sleek high ponytail, and judgment in her eyes the second she saw me enter the room with Kreed in tow.

Fynn leaned against the fridge, Kenna curled into his side like they were made of the same damn soul.

Micah sat on the edge of the kitchen island, lazily flipping a butter knife between his fingers, Mads shaking her head at him.

Ainsley was frowning at Micah. Kenna and Josie exchanged some silent, sister-telepathy look, and Grayson…

I scanned the room again to make sure I hadn’t missed him.

He wasn’t here, which meant he was probably home with his daughter, Kensie.

Shit.

Kreed stiffened beside me. Not such a tough guy after all, but fuck me, if I didn’t want to hold his hand.

You do not need to offer him support, I reminded myself.

“You brought the crew,” I said to my cousin.

Brock grinned, sipping a cup of coffee that literally made my senses buzz. My cousin’s aqua eyes brimmed with a mix of concern and suspicion. “You’ve been quite busy the last few days.”

Ugh. The cameras. Of course, Brock had seen Kreed and Raine. “Not on purpose. Trust me. People have a way of just showing up.”

Josie stepped forward, softening the air with her presence. She rounded the island and pulled me into a hug that pressed something hot against my chest. “Hey,” she said quietly. “Don’t worry. We’re not here to bust you.”

Ainsley and Mads flanked her, both offering comforting squeezes that were too gentle for the guilt in my gut. I hadn’t seen them in months. I swallowed hard, blinking fast. Don’t get emotional now.

Behind them, Micah’s gaze zeroed in on Kreed. “Like this one?” he said, lips pressing around the words.

The Kreed who was in my bed was gone, and in his place was all hardness, his expression masked. “You all throw intervention brunches often?”

No one laughed.

Except Micah. His smile was razor-edged, armed with dimples. “Only when a Corvo is somewhere he isn’t wanted.”

Even Mads looked ready to launch her latte at Kreed.

I winced. “Is there something going on?” I asked quickly, trying to cut through the tension before it exploded.

Josie took another sip of her coffee, nodding. “We wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“All of you?” I arched a brow. “Not that I don’t appreciate seeing you, because I do. Trust me. Living alone isn’t all that glamorous.”

Josie tilted her head, chocolate eyes gleaming. “Sure. That’s why you let someone you hate sleep in your bed.”

My throat dried as Kreed turned to look at me. “Don’t start,” I warned him.

“So that’s why you let him stay?” Fynn leaned on the counter, his voice cool. “You didn’t want to be alone?”

“Not exactly,” I admitted, my shoulder hitting the doorway as I unleashed some of my weight onto the wood.

“ I didn’t want her to be alone,” Kreed piped up, his voice low but unwavering.

Brock glowered at the Corvo in question. “Since when do you make decisions about my cousin’s well-being?”