Trinity (34 page)

“What can I get you ladies?” the elderly waitress asks cheerfully.

“I’ll have two fried eggs and extra home fries,” Sam orders without missing a beat.

“And you?” the waitress asks. I stutter, unable to peel my eyes away from my aunt.

“Um . . . the same, please.”

Sam hangs back in the diner as I leave for work. Our whole breakfast has me freaking out. She was acting so weird. So unlike her. It makes me wonder if there was a break in her drug case. A big break causing her to fret like that. I chew my nail as I cross the street. Our conversation is going to worry me all day.

Just as I make it to the sidewalk, I hear the roar of an engine. It actually startles me. I look around for the bike and spot a black monster with gold markings pull out from the shadows of the alleyway. I recognize him immediately. It’s Viper, Reese’s arch nemesis. Or, at least, that’s how he exaggerated it. Apparently, they climbed up the racing circuit together. Always in top competition. But Reese was better, and he beat Viper out for the top spot. We all know the rest is history. Reese is convinced Viper is harboring some resentment, and I’m inclined to agree seeing the way they reacted to each other the night of the rally.

My skin erupts in goose bumps, and not the good kind, as he watches me cross the pavement in the direction of the double doors of the hospital. That fucking helmet creeps me out, alien tentacles and all.

Once inside, I shiver with a foreboding feeling. I swear, I need to run fifteen miles just to shake off the anxiety of the morning.

I hurry upstairs, change into my scrubs, and throw myself into work, desperate for the distraction. Before I know it, it’s nearly noon and time for lunch.

In the nurses’ lounge, there’s a spread set out. Potluck. Right, I completely spaced.

“Don’t worry, Kayla. There’s plenty for everyone.” Tricia, my nurse manager, encourages me to eat. “You can just make two dishes next time.” She winks.

She’s a sweet older lady you can get over on, no problem. She hates conflict and avoids it at all costs.

“I can do that.” I pick up a paper plate and smile.

“Done deal.” She steals a drumstick of fried chicken and takes a bite.

Before I even grab a serving spoon, Dev walks into the room.

“I heard there was a feast in here.” He’s his usual suave self. I can almost hear Tricia swoon as he stalks around the table, taking inventory.

“Help yourself to whatever you want, Dr. Dynamite.”

“Dynamite?” I repeat. “Do I even want to know?”

Dev just shrugs like he has no clue.

“Did I say that out loud?” Tricia giggles like a schoolgirl, blushing. “Well, I’m off.” The woman pushing sixty excuses herself and nearly runs out of the room.

As soon as she’s gone, Dev crowds me into the corner where the countertops meet.

“Hey.” He kisses me openly, and I jump. “Whoa. Why so jittery, butterfly?” He places his hands on my arms.

“I just . . .” I shake it off. “Weird morning.”

“Breakfast go okay with your aunt?”

“Yeah . . . yes.”
No, I don’t know.
“She has a lot on her plate, and I worry, you know?”

“She’s fine. She’s a tough lady.”

“I know. You’re right.” I’m being ridiculous, but she really freaked me out, and then that whole thing with Viper . . . It was all just
bizarre
.

“Of course, I am.” He presses his lips to mine again. “Dev.” I lift up on my toes and pull away. “Someone is going to see.”

“So what? Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to kiss you right here, in this spot? The very first place I ever laid eyes on you.”

“How long, Dr. Dynamite?” I toy.

Dev laughs modestly. “Way, way too long.” He slips his tongue between my lips, flipping and rolling it until I give in. I indulge him for a few heated seconds before I put the kibosh on the whole thing. Our situation is way too sensitive. And this place is a rumor mill on steroids. People have seen me with Reese, and people have seen me with Dev; sometimes, they’ve seen all three of us together. For dignity’s sake, I think it’s better not to give them something concrete to talk about.

“Fine, deny me. I’ll get my revenge later on.”

The threat excites me because I know what he’s capable of. I know how he can draw out my need until I’m virtually crying. He loves to hear me beg and will find any excuse for me to do so.

“I look forward to it,” I rise to the challenge.

“So do I.” His blue eyes smolder, and I nearly fall to my knees. I know that look all too well and all the naughty promises it holds. “Back to work, butterfly.” He steals one more kiss then saunters away.

I fan myself with the paper plate, ogling his ass as he goes.

“S
he is going to fucking murder you,” Dev crosses his arms and glares down at me.

“Why? Because I tuned up her bike?” I stand, wiping my dirty hands on my jeans.

“Because she was perfectly clear she didn’t want any part of riding it.”

“Yeah, well, she needs to get over that. Leave the past in the past and all.”

“Reese, this isn’t a good idea.”

“I never said it was, but it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do it.”

“That’s complete nonsense.” Dev doesn’t buy my argument for a second. Oh well.

“Maybe, but it’s always worked for me. I win, remember?” I pop my eyebrows. Sometimes you have to take risks to advance or even excel. Sometimes those risks can cost you; sometimes they can pay off huge in the end. I’ve been surviving on risk for almost ten years, and I’m not about to change my strategy now.

“You’re reckless,” Dev accuses.

“And you’re exactly right. I win because I’m reckless.”

“Wrong, man, you win because you have a death wish. And you don’t care what happens to you.”

“Yeah, well, that might have been true before, but not anymore,” I inform him.

“Oh? This is news to me.” Dev interrogates me with his eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that. People can change.”

“People, yes. You? I’m not convinced.”

“You’re my brother. Aren’t you supposed to be supportive?” I snap defensively. I understand, okay. I’m egocentric. My whole life I’ve only ever cared about three things. Myself, racing, and winning. But you know what? People do change. They grow. They fall in love. They see possibilities they never imagined before. Discover a world beyond their own. I’m living proof. I never would have walked away last season if I didn’t feel something—or someone—was more important. And there was. Kayla somehow, some way, changed me. My life is complicated, more than anyone can ever understand. I’ve had to live in the spotlight and in a shadow. And I’m getting tired. I can’t race forever, and I don’t want to end up alone either, so I’m finding my balance, laying my groundwork, and if I’m lucky, in the end, emerge victoriously. Granted, I live long enough to see the fruits of my labor.

“You know my take on the situation,” Dev leaves it at that.

“Yes, I do. And maybe I just needed something more important to live for.”

“Do you have something more important to live for?” he questions.

“Yes. Don’t you?”

“Yes, I do,” he becomes gravely serious.

“So we’re on the same page, yeah?”

“With Kayla, yes. With her bike? Hell no.”

I groan. “All I did was change some spark plugs, fill it with oil, and let it hum for a little while. I don’t see the big deal.”

“When Kayla finds her bike in my garage, it’s going to become a very big deal.”

“Then we’ll just have to distract her until we find the perfect time to approach her.”

“I’ll give one hundred percent participation on distracting her, but you’re on your own approaching her.”

“Fine.” I roll my eyes. If you can’t count on family, who can you count on?

“Speaking of Kayla,” he changes the subject, “when are you going to tell her you’re leaving? Or are you just going to disappear in the middle of the night again?”

“No, I’m not going to disappear.” I can’t even take offense to that comment, because I’ve slipped out on a woman so many times, it’s become my MO. “But I have no idea when I’m going to tell her.” I wish I didn’t have to. I wish I didn’t have to leave at all. But I’m under contract and sort of itching to get back out there. Domesticity is nice, temporarily.

“Well, you better figure it out soon. Christmas is next week, and January first will be here before any of us knows it.”

I’m well aware. My life will no longer be my own once I step back into those racing leathers. My schedule will be full of testing, traveling, and appearances, not to mention practice and live competitions. It’s a vortex, that’s for sure. But it’s what I know. It will have to become what Kayla knows as well.

As unconventional as it is, I’m grateful for our arrangement. While I’m away, Dev will be here taking care of her. Not that she needs taking care of, but she won’t be alone. And that in itself will help me sleep better at night.

“Get rid of the bike,” Dev orders before he leaves the garage.

I throw my hands up in surrender.
“Fine.”

M
y aunt hawks me the entire night. She knows something is up. I’ve been dancing around the subject of my relationship with Reese and Dev for weeks, and tonight, it’s all going to come to a head.

This has been the strangest Christmas of my life, waking up next to two men who showered me with presents. And not just small trinkets, either—diamond earrings, expensive clothes, electronics, and brand new leathers Reese had specifically designed for me. Black leather pants with colorful butterflies of different sizes stitched diagonally around one thigh and a matching black leather jacket with the same butterfly design climbing up the lapel onto the collar. So understated, but beautiful.

Dev surprised me with a butterfly necklace made of white diamonds and pink sapphires. Nothing dramatic, but also beautiful. The fact that they took such careful consideration, knowing what butterflies mean to me, put me over the edge. If you’re lucky, you find one person who’ll love you, scars and all. Somehow, I’ve found two.

Christmas dinner was an epic battle. Reese and Dev wanted a big feast, and they wanted us all together, which isn’t irrational, but I had to somehow, some way, include Sam. She’s the only family I have, and there was no way I was going to exclude her. I tried suggesting ten different scenarios, but the guys put their foot down; it was the biggest holiday of the year, and they wanted their woman with them.
All day.
Stubborn asses.

So that brings me to my current situation. My aunt and I sitting down to dinner with both Reese and Dev. To an onlooker, this picture might not be anything unusual. A girl making Christmas dinner for her boyfriend, aunt, and boyfriend’s brother. I’m sure many holiday dinners look exactly like ours—except they’re not. Because said girl is dating both boys, and said aunt had no idea, until now.

I heard the question in her voice when I called to invite her over to Dev’s in the first place. He has the larger house and a dining room table, even if he never uses it. I made him and Reese rearrange the entire room so it looked somewhat presentable. They moved the table to its rightful place, got rid of the gaming chairs, and shoved the weight set into the corner. It’s not picture perfect, but it works.