“Sleep well?” he asked as I made my way closer to him.
“Mm,” I hummed in answer before dipping my chin to kiss him, my hands curling around his hips. Then, I turned to the coffee pot. Shane still hadn’t looked up from his tablet, his hand still moving as he worked, but I knew he was tracking every move both me and Preston made. I imagined there wasn’t much Shane didn’t notice, even when he seemed to not be paying attention.
A man could be taken out of the military, but the military couldn’t be taken out of the man.
“So, where did you go last night?” I asked Shane as I turned, leaning my back against the counter, holding my mug of coffee in one hand.
“Can Preston finish making breakfast so we can all be sitting down like normal adults when we have this conversation?” Shane asked, still not lifting his fucking head. And it was beginning to agitate me. Last night had been fucking amazing, and now, he was acting so goddamn indifferent. I wanted his attention. Wanted his eyes on me. Why was he doing this shit again?
“No, it fucking can’t,” I snapped, my temper getting the best of me.
“X,” Preston softly called, trying to rein me in, but I was stewing. I’d woken up alone, which I’d decided was fine, but it was quickly becoming not okay the longer Shane acted like this. I couldn’t take the hot and cold bullshit he was playing. I didn’t like being manipulated.
“Don’t,” Shane gently warned Preston. Calmly, he set his pencil down beside his tablet, then looked up at me. His brown skin seemed to glow beneath the lights above the bar, where he was sitting, and under the bright lights, I could just make out the first hints of salt and pepper in his long beard. I gritted my teeth as our eyes met. Why did he have to be so effortlessly hot when I was irate with him?
“If you’re going to throw a tantrum, I won’t tell you a thing,” Shane warned me. “We will discuss this over breakfast, where Preston can sit and give this his undivided attention as well, understand?”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking child,” I ground out through clenched teeth.
Shane arched a brow at me. “Then don’t act like one, Xan,” he warned, using my real name. And fuck, that just pissed me off more.
“Don’t use my fucking name,” I snapped.
“Why?” Shane asked. “This is what you wanted, right? My full, undivided attention? Well, you have it. You can’t be upset that it’s not the kind of attention you wanted when you’re lashing out like this without even attempting to talk to one of us about what’s going through your head like a sensible, mature adult, X.”
“I hate my fucking name,” I growled before I could stop the words from tumbling past my lips. But as soon as I realized what I’d said, I snapped my mouth shut so fast, my teeth audibly clacked together. Preston sucked in a sharp breath, his wide eyes locked on the side of my face, but I couldn’t bring myself to look away from Shane—Shane, who was calmly watching me as if I hadn’t just dropped a fucking nuclear bomb into the room.
“And why is that?” Shane questioned before grabbing his coffee and taking a sip.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I didn’t talk about my past. About my parents. About what’d happened to my mother. About any of it. It’d all been what fucked me up in the first place. Or, according to my therapist, what’d triggered my sociopathy. Essentially unlocked it.
“Shane, can we not?” Preston quietly asked, turning the burners off on the stove. “Breakfast is done.” It was clear he wanted to diffuse the situation, but if there was one thing about me and Shane, we’d clash heads until we got shit out of our systems.
“We can have breakfast once X answers my question,” Shane said, standing his ground. “He dug into my past, pushed to get what he wanted without a care for how I might feel about it, and he’s constantly on the defensive the moment something doesn’t go his way. And I’m tired of the back and forth.” He cocked his head to the side the slightest bit. I knew a predator when I saw one because I was one, and right then, the man I was staring at was as predatory as they came. “So, X, do you mind sharing? Otherwise, I’m going to assume there’s no real reason, and I’ll begin using your name. Because I quite like your name.”
His words had a small ache burning in my chest. No one had ever liked my name, least of all me. Even Preston had never said something like that to me. When I’d told him to call me X, he’d just rolled with it. When he eventually found out about my past, it became an unspoken agreement that we never talked about my name. Or my past.
It’d been the last thing my mother cried before the life bled from her eyes and the first word he’d said the moment her heart stopped beating. My father had been a sick, twisted son of a bitch like me, but unlike me, he’d never cared to rein himself in. Never cared to only do harm to those who deserved it. He wanted to hurt everyone. And my mom?
Well, she’d been an easy target—a woman who just wanted to protect her son.
“My father murdered my mother,” I said, my voice empty as I shut it all down. “But you’d know that from the background check you said you did on me, right?” Shane nodded once. “She cried my name as she died. It was the last thing she ever said before she stopped breathing. And my name was the first fucking word he uttered the moment he made sure her she was dead beneath us. That enough for you?”
Wordlessly, Shane stood and rounded the bar. “Set the table,” he softly told Preston, leaning in to press a kiss to Preston’s temple. When Preston nodded, Shane erased the distance between us. He took my coffee mug from my hand and set it on the counter behind me. And then, he was pulling me into his arms and just… holding me.
There was no pity. No sympathy. Because he knew I didn’t care for those things. There was just this. A moment of support. A moment for the boy I’d been before my entire life got fucking ruined. Before I’d changed. Being a sociopath didn’t stop me from remembering that painful day and all those painful years. No one forgot that shit.
“Better?” Shane quietly asked, just loud enough for me to hear.
I nodded once, my hands landing on his ribcage. My fingertips dug into his skin, and I nosed along the skin of his throat, inhaling the scent of him and letting it drug me. My irritation bled away, and unable to help myself, I pressed a kiss to his pulse point, then withdrew.
“Let’s sit down,” I said, moving on. Shane was already moving for the table like I hadn’t just dumped my fucking trauma all over the kitchen floor. “I want to know what you found out.”
Preston smiled at me. It wasn’t as bright as it’d been when I’d woken up, but it was still the brightest fucking thing in the world. I drew him to me for a moment, kissing him just because I could, and then, I headed for the small table in the corner of the kitchen where a plate of bacon, scrambled eggs, and a waffle were waiting for me.
Chapter 22
Shane