Trinity(28)

“Honey, you’re pushing eleven miles. Are you doing penance for something?”

“Huh?” I break concentration and trip over my feet. Sam acts fast, pulling the emergency shut off before I go down and break my neck.

“Kayla!” She hauls me up and shoves a bottle of water in my face. “What’s going on with you?” Her voice elevates, highly concerned.

“Nothing.” Everything. “I’ve just missed a bunch of workouts and was trying to catch up,” I lie between heaving gulps.

She shoots me a doubtful look.

“I swear,” I huff.

“If you say so.” She turns on her machine once I’m steady and begins a brisk walk. I do the same, but at a much slower pace to cool down. I think I’ve punished my body enough for one day.

One phrase keeps playing through my mind as I walk next to my intuitive aunt. Crystal clear.

“How’s your man dilemma?” she asks casually.

It just got a whole lot more complicated.

“The same,” I fib again.

I haven’t spoken to Dev for a few days, and after the other night with Reese, I would like to avoid any man with the last name Dane. How am I supposed to look Dev in the eye after giving his twin a hand job?

At work, of all places.

“How’s your drug situation?” I redirect the conversation, wanting to talk about anything besides my disastrous love life.

“The same.” She shakes her head frustrated. “There was another OD last night. Fifteen years old.”

“That’s so sad.”

“It’s needless. And doesn’t have to be happening.” She increases the speed of her machine until she’s jogging. Sam and I are one and the same when it comes to dealing with stress. There’s one bona fide way to relieve it. Run it out of you. She taught me that a long time ago when my life hit a monumental rough patch. When I thought I could never come back from the darkness, the black feelings, and the despair. I was a stone’s throw away from being put on medication, but Sam refused to let me become some strung-out, pill popping, anxiety freak. Her words. So every morning she woke me up at the crack of dawn to go running with her. Rain, shine, or snow. I cried for the first few weeks, but she wouldn’t give up on me. She was determined to make me stronger, and she did. Soon, running became my go-to every time those feelings threatened to bring me down. I still battle with anxiety and depression, but a good, long run in the fresh morning air always helps me fight through it. Conquer it. It’s my medicinal marijuana, so to speak.

I hit stop on the treadmill and stretch my legs. I need to retain some energy for work.

Work. Blah. I really don’t want to go. I don’t want to face Reese or Dev. Or be constantly reminded that I’m a complete hypocrite. Not only is Reese a patient, but he’s also a motorcycle racer. Talk about breaking moral code, both personal and professional. He’s the friggin’ alpha and omega of the bike world, and I rode right over the line with him. Actually, it was like the line wasn’t even fucking there. It was just him and me and electricity crackling through the air.

I wipe the sweat from my brow and neck before I step off the machine.

“I’ve got to get to work,” I inform Sam.

“Have a great day,” she pants as she hits her stride, fully engaged in her run.

I shower quickly and head in. I find myself applying extra lip gloss before my shift, and I have to stop and wonder if it’s for Reese, Dev, or myself. I’m turning into a damn ping-pong ball.

I love them; I love them not.

I love them; I love them not.

I shove the pink tube in my pocket and resign just to concentrate on work and not the two undeniably sexy bikers who seem to have taken up permanent residence in my mind.

Not like it would ever come down to it, but what if I was forced to choose? That question has been plaguing me. I can’t stop wondering if Dev kisses like Reese. Is he as aggressive and demanding? As well-endowed?

“Morning.” Dev’s velvety timbre pulls me from my gyrating thoughts.

“Morning.” I try to smile and totally not stare at his enticing mouth. Which I’m failing at miserably, by the way.

“Been dodging me? I haven’t seen you for a few days.” He crowds me in the blind corner of the hallway.

“No.” My focus darts between his eyes and mouth. Stop that! “Just been busy.”

Dev sucks on his bottom lip seductively, and I nearly pass out. He’s fucking with me, and he knows it. Knows I’m crumbling.

“Tonight.” He leans in close to my face. So close, I can feel his warm breath tickle my neck. “You are all mine. No arguments, no excuses. Just you and me in the dark.”

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. I press my back against the wall and dig my nails into the plaster to keep from pouncing on him. I don’t know what the fuck’s come over me, but I want him. Badly. I want him as much as I want Reese, and it’s scaring the shit out of me.

“Kayla, say yes,” Dev urges. His dark hair is styled back, and he has a hint of a five o’clock shadow. And the way he smells . . . So. Fucking. Good. Just like a man should smell. Don’t ask me to explain it. It’s like some kind of ambrosial aftershave or something.

“Kayla?” He fucks my name with his voice.

“Yes,” I force out, clenching my thighs. I want to slap my hand over my mouth, but it’s too late. I just sold my soul to the Dane brothers.

The victory in Dev’s blue eyes is burning so bright, it could block out the sun.

I’m so screwed. So goddamn screwed, and I don’t even care. I’m tired of resisting. Tired of getting off only in my dreams, while my conscious self is continuously deprived.

“I’m going to make sure you scream that word twenty times over tonight.” He skims his nose up my neck until his lips are brushing against my ear. “I hope you’re ready,” he whispers almost tauntingly.

I look up into his alight eyes. “I’m so fucking ready.”

“Damn, baby.” He blows into my ear right before he pushes off the wall, checking the hallway as he adjusts himself. “Let’s go do some work before I say fuck it all and lock us up in the storage closet.”

“I’m surprised you aren’t.”

“Not with you. I have something special planned for you.” The wicked implication laced in his tone actually makes me shiver. I’ve heard things about Dev. Whispers about dominance and submission and kinky inclinations. It makes a woman curious. Dangerously curious.

Dev takes my arm and leads me away, releasing his grasp as we make it closer to the nurses’ station. I know they’re all talking. Gossiping about Dev and me. We’re always a hot topic, especially when we’re seen together. Funny thing is, there was nothing to gossip about up until five minutes ago.

Now me and Reese? That’s a whole other story. One I have to figure out, fast.

“Come with me?” He continues down the hallway toward Reese’s room. No delaying the inevitable.

“Good news, bro,” Dev announces as we walk in. “You’re out of here. I’ve hired a nurse, and a bed is being set up as we speak.”

Reese doesn’t look as happy as I thought he would be.

“What nurse?”

“From an agency. She seems nice.”

“I want Kayla,” he declares. I think I turn white. Dev glances over at me with a questioning look, and all I can do is return the expression.

Fuck.

“Um, that’s not an option. Kayla already has a job.”

Reese pins me a hard stare. “I’ll pay you double whatever this craphole does. I want you.”

Oh. My. God. This can’t be happening.

“Reese . . .” I stumble over my words.

“Triple.” He ups the ante.

“Ahhh . . .” I’m frozen in place as I glance frantically back and forth between the two ruggedly, white trash beautiful men who are a carbon copy of each other.

“I guess I can rework my schedule temporarily,” I inform them tentatively, before even considering the consequences.

There goes my runaway mouth again. Fuck.

Reese beams. “It’s settled then.”

Dev protests. “Kayla, are you sure about this?”

“I . . .” My eyes continue to dart between them, but I can’t say no. “I’m sure.”

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

Dev crosses his arms, and I find him hard to read. He’s silent for a few beats before he nods in agreement. When he looks at me, the heat that was so unbearably apparent in the hallway has returned full force.

Oh shit. Holy shit. What did I just agree to?

Two Dane men under one roof and my wavering self-control. That’s nothing but a recipe for disaster.

Once some of the logistics are sorted out, I hurry out of the room with Dev hot on my heels.

“Kayla.” He tugs on my arm. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“He’s paying me triple what I make. Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Because Reese can be a handful.”

I almost keel over. What a choice of words. “Dev, I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself. I can take care of Reese, too.” I think. I hope.

“What about me?” he asks forcefully, as if he knows whatever was decided in Reese’s hospital room directly affects whatever we agreed to earlier. I sigh deeply.