Kenna flipped her cup and stuck the landing. Repeat: she stuck the fucking landing.
Game. Over.
Screams erupted. The women jumped up and down, hugging one another like they'd just found out some high-end store put a bunch of overpriced leather handbags on sale.
What the hell just happened? Someone please tell him, because he couldn't make sense of it.
Bryan met Kenna's gaze, and his heart stopped. She stood across from him, hand on her full hip, wearing a naughty smirk, swiping a red-painted finger across her lips. All he could think about was placing his mouth on hers and licking where her finger had just been. He wanted to taste her. So fucking bad. And not just her mouth.
A hard punch connected with his shoulder, jolting him back to reality. He massaged the area and glanced in Luke's direction. His friend's eyes were narrowed and his face flushed.
"Sorry, babe." Cass wormed herself under her fiancé's arm and patted his stomach. "That's too bad you guys lost. Guess you'll be going with me to that four-hour antiquing class tomorrow."
Luke swung a look at Bryan. "Goddamn you, Tyke."
Cass dragged her fiancé away, amused, so Tyke made his way around the table to Kenna.
"Think you're pretty slick, don't you?" he said when he reached her.
A playful smile split her lips. "Maybe."
"I didn't think you girls had it in you. I'm impressed."
"Please," she said. "There wasn't any doubt."
"Careful," he said. "Don't get too cocky."
"Why? Because then the size of my ego would rival yours?" She chuckled. "No one is catching up to you. I think we're safe."
"You love laughing at my expense, don't you?"
"I do."
"Good thing I can take it, huh?"
"Definitely." There was a glow in her eyes that hadn't been there earlier in the evening. A playfulness between them he'd missed.
"Wanna see how big my ego really is?" he asked.
She drew back, and her mouth distorted. "Was that a euphemism for the size of something else?"
"No, but I like the way you think." His voice was too enthusiastic, but he didn't care.
As he hoped, she let out a huge laugh. "It's cute that you're so confident." She stepped past him toward the bar.
Confident? Of course he was confident. He knew what he was packing. So did she.
"You know why I am," he said, following her. "You've seen it."
She didn't turn around.
"You remember, don't you?"
She kept walking.
"Kenna?"
At the bar, the two parties of guys and girls meshed together. The older ladies called it a night. Single men and women paired off, the betrothed couples whispered into each other's ears, which left Tyke and Kenna.
She looked at him and then glanced around at the others. "So … "
"You wanna drink more?" he said. He didn't want her to walk away. They were getting along. Laughing, even. He wanted more of that.
"Sure," she said with a casual shrug. "What did you have in mind?"
"Just good old-fashioned shots."
Her relieved smile made him wonder if she needed something to get through this week, too. If she'd been struggling as much as he had with this whole reunion thing.
And it gave him that little bit of solace imagining she did.
Tyke stumbled off the elevator at the seventh floor, carrying Kenna fireman-style over his shoulder, and staggered down the hallway toward his room.
Kenna let out a loud giggle-snort combo that most likely woke up half the hotel.
"Quiet, woman," Tyke said, probably just as loud. He was so drunk he couldn't be sure.
"This isn't my floor!" She struggled against his hold like she was trying to get down.
"I said quiet." He smacked her ass and took immense satisfaction in the loud cracking sound it made.
She gasped and then slapped him hard on the back.
Damn what he wouldn't give to slip his hand under her skirt right now. It was all he could think about. Having her bottom so close to his face and not being able to do anything about it was the worst sort of torture. There was no other feeling in the world that compared to Kenna's legs wrapped around his neck, writhing underneath him. Pure euphoria.
He pulled his key card out of his back pocket, balancing her on the opposite shoulder. Sliding it into the access pad, he threw the door open, went in, and dropped her on the bed with a bounce.
"Where are we?" she said, lifting her head to look around. "This isn't my room."
"I know. It's mine."
Her features locked up as her body stiffened.
"Thief, remember?" he said, kicking off his boots. "I'm not taking you to your room while both of us are drunk. Just a safety precaution."
"Oh," she said, her body relaxing. "Okay." Rolling onto her side, she snuggled into the pillow, and all he could do was watch her. The past and present converged with a vengeance. Everything he'd had that he walked away from was currently lying in his bed.
He approached her side and sat next to her. "Let me help you with your shoes." Tugging on her feet, he took off her sandals and tossed them toward the dresser at the end of the bed. He looked down at her outfit and thought long and hard about taking that off her, too. So she'd be more comfortable, of course. But he didn't dare. That would be even more dangerous than taking her back to her room with the thief. He'd get a full view of her body, barely covered by her underwear, and there'd be no stopping him. And given the fact that she was drunk, she'd give in, which would spell disaster in the morning. He could separate past from present. He could sleep with her knowing that would be it. It wouldn't mean they had a future. Kenna, on the other hand, would want more. She'd expect it.
Tyke stood, reaching for the collar of his shirt as he made his way around to the other side of the bed.
"Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?" he asked, tossing his shirt in the corner of the room. His shorts were next. He stepped out of them and flicked them with his foot in the same direction as his shirt. Pushing the covers back, he slipped in and then pulled them up to his chest.
She brought the sheet up to her neck and curled to face him. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
How could she even ask that? "Why wouldn't I?"
A loud yawn sounded from her side. "Because you never came back to me." Her voice was soft and sleepy. "What did I do? What was wrong with me?"
"Not a fucking thing." He urged her onto her back and looked down at her. "I don't wanna hear you say shit like that again. It's not you. It was never you."
Her eyes were heavy and she yawned again. "Had to be. I needed you, and you weren't there. You didn't want me."
He could've shoved a dull knife through his gut right then, and it wouldn't have hurt half as bad as what she'd just said. She wasn't over him. Not at all. He'd hurt her, and she never got over it.
That killed him the most. She'd spent the last twelve years with hope that he'd come back. He'd failed her. He was the worst sort of man. Leaving her hanging without a reason, letting her think it was her. Christ. It was never her. It was all him. What he wouldn't give to change the past. To never enlist. To never leave her. They would've been married by now.
She'd be his.
His.
She yawned again and flopped onto her stomach. "It's fine. You didn't want me. I get it."
"No, you don't get it. Not at all." He leaned over to see her eyes closed and mouth slightly open. Her back rose and fell on a soft snore. "Kenna?"
Another snore.
"Kenna, I wanna talk about this," he said, amazed at how effective the alcohol was at opening him up. "It wasn't you. You hear me? It was never you. You're perfect and I'm just … I'm nowhere near enough for you. You deserve a hell of a lot better than me."
She didn't respond, except for deep, steady breaths.
Tyke lowered himself beside her and threw an arm over her, savoring the few moments he had to remember what it was like to hold her.
Chapter Eight
Kenna squinted against the bright light streaming in from the window to her right.
God, who left the curtains open? She lay on her side and rubbed her forehead. With the pain slicing through her skull, she was pretty sure someone was driving a metal spike into it.
She rolled in the other direction in an attempt to give her eyes some reprieve, but she bumped into something large, warm, and solid. She froze. Extending an arm, she placed a hand on the object, gently traveling along its hard surface. Skin. It was hot, bare skin. And given the peaks and valleys, that skin was protecting firm, bulging muscles.
Oh no. She didn't. Did she?
She dared a peek at the person next to her.
Don't be Bear.
Please don't be Bear.
Not that anyone else would be better. She didn't pride herself on getting drunk and going home with random men. But Bear. She definitely couldn't go home with him.