Sterling (Carolina Reapers 6)

“Let’s go left,” she suggested, tucking a strand of long, dark hair behind her ear.

“Left it is.” We made the turn and continued into the maze. “You know I’ll be at the New Year’s Eve thing, right?”

“I already marked you down,” she said with a nod as a mischievous smile spread across her face. “I put down Brogan, too.”

“Demon?”

“He said adult-only, and it’s black tie and eighteen and up, so he went on the list.”

I laughed. “Oh, my brave, beautiful woman.”

“He doesn’t scare me.” Her nose crinkled, and she led us right at the next fork. “Well, maybe he’s a little intimidating, but when you grow up with Caz, you become immune to the broody, angry thing. Add Maxim to the mix—” She snapped her mouth shut.

“It’s okay.” I squeezed her hand for reassurance. “I just tell myself that he’s two different people, and your brother’s best friend, Maxim, is not the same person I share genes with.”

“You always say that. Share genes.” She took us straight when there were three options, and we passed a family who was coming out of the left, the husband muttering in agreement that he should have listened to his wife.

“That’s because it’s all we share.” My jaw ticked. “It’s not exactly easy to look at the guy and know that he was the reason I might have a father, but don’t have a dad.”

She tugged me to the right, where the path turned quickly again, closing us into a dead-end. “Why didn’t you say it that way before?” Her brow knit in concern and her fingers stroked over my knuckles.

“There’s nothing to say,” I bristled slightly but softened at the compassionate look in her eyes. “Look. You know that I didn’t know about them for years. I know that Sergei paid my mother a lot of hush money because I wasn’t exactly something he wanted advertised. He already had a family. He chose that family. And all the stuff that makes a family—love, memories, loyalty—none of that exists between Maxim and me, or his siblings. So yeah, we share genes. That’s it.”

Her shoulders rose and fell as she sighed, long and hard. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” I cradled her face. “You didn’t do anything.”

“For putting you guys in that promo together. I would never do it knowing what I know now.” Her gaze dropped.

“Hey.”

Her eyes rose to meet mine, and I brushed a kiss over her lips.

“If you need something from me, I’ll give it to you. That’s how this works now,” I said softly.

“And what do you get out of the deal?” Her hands rose to my chest.

“You.”

“Is that right?” She smiled slowly.

I nodded. “This is real to me, London. I’m in. I’m so in that—”

She leaned up and kissed me, cupping the sides of my neck and effectively cutting me off in the sweetest way possible. “Me, too,” she admitted against my lips. “I want whatever this is.”

“It’s a relationship,” I clarified, needing her to know exactly what I meant. If I was being honest, I needed to hear her say it, too.

“It’s a relationship,” she agreed, then kissed me softly, sucking on my lower lip.

Relief coursed through my veins, and I pulled her against me, my hands sinking into her hair as I kissed her long and deep. She tasted like the apple cider we’d had just outside the maze, and that unique, sweet flavor that was all London.

She moaned and laced her fingers behind my neck, tilting her head to give us that perfect angle as I kissed her over and over. Fuck, this never got old. Every kiss was better. We hadn’t tired of each other or fallen into a routine, either. Every time I touched her somehow felt new and yet comfortably familiar at the same time. She felt like…home.

Her tongue rubbed against mine, and I lost myself in the kiss just like I did every time.

A kid laughed somewhere in the maze, and London ripped her mouth away. We were both breathing heavy and my dick was pretty much a steel pipe in my jeans.

“Let’s go,” she said, gripping my hand. “The faster we get out of here, the faster I can get you naked.”

“Excellent plan.”

We made it out of the maze without her anxiety spiking once, and I kissed her breathless against the door of my car, unable to wait another minute.

It was getting harder and harder to keep my hands to myself when we were in public, not just here at the maze, but at the arena, and on the plane on the way to away games. Briggs was right. We were slipping.

At some point, we were going to be outed.

I just hoped London was ready for it, because now that I had her, I wasn’t letting her go—damn the consequences.

12

London

“What is that delicious smell?” Jansen asked, letting himself in my front door with the key I’d given him a month ago under the condition that he always text first to make sure Caz wasn’t here. He dropped his gear bag in the entryway, his long stride eating up the space between us in seconds. “Besides you, of course,” he said, scooping me up against him. My feet dangled off the floor, and I shivered against this chest.