Double Time (Sinners on Tour #5)(42)

Abandoning his plan to head for bed, Ethan climbed from his stool to get more coffee. "Is she ready for that?"

Trey chuckled. "It definitely fucks with your mind. If you aren't careful, you start to believe the things people say, both good and bad. You're a god. A talentless hack. A sellout. The best thing that ever happened to the planet. A menace to society. It's enough to drive a person nuts."

"How do you deal with that stuff?"

"Trust only the people who are living it with you and the people who knew you before you became famous."

"She knows she can trust me," Ethan said. He took a seat again. His arm brushed Trey's as he settled on the stool, and he stifled a groan of torment. The man was utterly delectable. Even when he wasn't trying to be.

"Don't betray that trust. She's going to need you." Trey caught his eye and held his gaze. "Almost as much as she needs me."

Ethan's first instinct was to protest. Reagan didn't need anyone but him. He would protect her until the end. Keep everyone at minimum safe distance. No one would touch her or even look at her. He knew that wasn't realistic, and though he only managed to hold Trey's gaze for several seconds before he had to look into his coffee again, Trey was right. Reagan would need Trey, or someone in a similar position, to go to when things Ethan couldn't understand weighed her down.

"She's important to me. Her happiness is important to me." Ethan had no idea why he was spilling those feelings to a man he hardly knew. A man who happened to be his competition for the woman he loved. Except Ethan wasn't competing anymore. He was sitting on the bench watching from the sidelines like some loser.

"I know," Trey said. He clapped him on the back. "It's important to me too."

Trey's hand slid down Ethan's back. It took every shred of Ethan's willpower to stay on his stool and not tackle Trey to the floor and rip his clothes off.

"So have you always been in security?" Trey asked. His gaze drifted down Ethan's body and he shifted on his stool uncomfortably. "You definitely have the right build for it."

"I used to be a police officer."

"Used to be?"

Ethan nodded. "I got fired for beating the shit out of a suspected child molester. Police brutality."

"I don't blame you."

"Well, I might have gotten off easier if I hadn't already been on probation for beating the shit out of a guy who assaulted his wife."

"You probably just got carried away."

"Like I did when I beat the shit out of a guy for raping a sixteen-year-old girl?"

Trey winced. "I guess."

The thing was Ethan didn't regret getting violent with those criminals. Not at all.

Trey touched his knee. "Do you miss it?"

Ethan shrugged. "Sometimes. I have too much of a temper to be any good at it. I enjoyed protecting the innocent and hurting those who hurt them, but that's not what the job is really about."

"So now you guard …  beef?"

Ethan scowled. "Uh. Yeah."

"Good morning," Reagan said in a sleepy voice behind them. "I need coffee."

Ethan shouldn't have looked at her. She'd put on her panties and a T-shirt, so most of her was covered, but the messy hair, blurry eyes, and the sexy smile she gifted Trey were too much for him to handle.



       
         
       
        

Trey wrapped an arm around her narrow waist and directed her to stand between his legs with her back against the counter. He drew her against his chest, embracing her with easy affection. Ethan couldn't decide what he wanted more at that moment, to be the person wrapped in Trey's strong arms or the man holding Reagan. How could he want both of them? And be jealous of both of them? This was a total mind fuck.

"You can share my coffee," Trey murmured against her cheek.

She leaned back and accepted Trey's cup. She took a sip and pulled a face of disgust. "This isn't coffee. It's syrup. How much sugar did you put in this?"

"Enough," he said and took his cup back to take a sip.

"I'll get you a cup," Ethan said and rose to make Reagan's coffee. He knew how she liked it. One sugar and a splash of milk.

"You're such a good roommate," she murmured, relaxing against Trey again. He seemed to be holding her up. "When do you have to get on the plane?" Reagan asked. Her hands tightened, clenching his shirt.

"A few hours. When's the limo supposed to be here?"

She glanced at the clock on the wall in the living room. "Fuck," she murmured. "In twenty minutes." She clung to him, pressing her face against his shoulder. "Do you think the band will mind if I show up like this?"