Vengeance (The Protectors 5)

I forced myself not to look at Memphis because I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep the disappointment from my eyes at knowing he wouldn’t be joining us. Sure, he’d held my hand in the hotel the day he’d left for New York and again today, but it felt wrong to ask for more.

“Memphis, thank you,” I said and I squeezed his hand hard before I climbed to my feet.

I let go of his hand and prepared to follow Brennan from the room when I was yanked backwards and into Memphis’s arms. “You’re welcome,” he whispered right before he kissed me. And not some gentle, sweet kiss. No, it was a bone-melting, toe-curling kiss that had me going from zero to sixty instantly. “Lunch sounds good, but no fish,” he murmured against my lips.

He reached out his hand to Brennan and then tugged him forward and kissed him in the exact same way. It was the kind of kiss we’d wanted from him last night when he’d arrived back at the hotel…the kind of kiss that you knew meant you’d been missed.

“Why no fish?” Brennan asked, his voice husky.

“Because I’d be too tempted to start another food fight just so I can help you clean it off,” he said suggestively as he nipped at Brennan’s mouth. His words brought the night we’d messed around in the shower at my dads’ house back to the forefront and I felt myself getting hard.

“Maybe we should skip lunch and go back to the hotel,” Brennan said as he reached out to pull me into their embrace.

I kissed Brennan, then Memphis and said, “Lunch first, so we can talk.” I held their gazes as I said, “I’m ready to take the next step if you guys are.”

I was glad both men seemed to get what I was saying because my embarrassment quota had been met for the day.

“Lunch,” Memphis and Brennan said at the same time and I smiled as they basically dragged me out of the exam room.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Brennan

Despite the eagerness Tristan had shown in the doctor’s office, his nerves seemed to get the better of him throughout the day. During lunch he’d spoken nearly non-stop about what Dr. Reston had said about the safe sexual practices we needed to consider, and at one point he hadn’t even thought to pause in his questioning of what the doctor had said about rimming - which happened to be when our waitress dropped off our bill.

Memphis and I had repeatedly assured Tristan that neither of us wanted to wait until the seven days for the PreP to become effective, but when he’d started turning our coming together into something that sounded more clinical than anything else, Memphis had taken over. Not caring who’d been watching in the restaurant as we’d gotten up to leave, he’d kissed Tristan until Tristan had seemed to lose the ability to think at all and then he’d taken him by the hand and said we were going to get some ice cream. After that, Tristan had settled and we’d spent the rest of the afternoon just enjoying each other’s company as we’d walked along the waterfront and then explored Pike Place Market.

I’d spent most of the afternoon studying Memphis rather than Tristan. He’d eventually let go of Tristan’s hand as we’d started to weave in and out of the crowd of tourists, but he hadn’t seemed to be overly uncomfortable with our “almost” date. And his demeanor had been a complete 180 from the night before when he’d returned from New York and essentially ignored both of us. I didn’t know what to make of the shift or why he’d come back from New York so withdrawn. Tristan had told me about Memphis keeping his hotel room so we could use it while he was gone, as well as letting Tristan pick up his cat and we’d seen that as a major step forward.

I was frustrated that I couldn’t make sense of what Memphis was thinking or feeling and while I wanted to give him the space he needed to figure out if he wanted to be with us long-term, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was withdrawing more and more from us emotionally, even though he was with us physically.

By the time we got back to the hotel, Tristan was nervous again, though he wasn’t talking incessantly. Instead, he went about cleaning Tink’s litterbox, feeding her and then spending an inordinate amount of time cleaning her food and water bowls. Then the kitchen apparently needed cleaning, even though we’d cleaned it the night before after we’d eaten dinner and before we’d sat down to watch TV while we’d waited for Memphis.

Memphis and I looked at one another and then he went into the kitchen, but not before he leaned in to press a kiss to my temple. The move warmed my insides. Even with this day being about what Tristan needed, Memphis was making sure I wasn’t feeling left out. At least, that was the way I chose to see the affectionate gesture.