“Only if he got you pregnant,” Connor countered. “Then, all bets are off. You bringing him to dinner tomorrow?”
“And the conversation takes a left turn.” Kane shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s kind of late to spring it on Mom, and I don’t know if he’s in any shape to be dragged in front of the Morgans to get his tires kicked. I don’t know who I’d be more scared of. Ryan, ’cause she’s got him and his band on the walls, or Mom because he’d be the first guy I’d ever brought home, even if we’re just friends.”
“K, if you look at your friends like I saw you look at him, you’re getting laid a lot more than I thought,” Connor rumbled.
“He says he doesn’t do parents well.” He shrugged and rocked back on his heels, shivering slightly as the breeze kicked up. “I get that his best friend’s mom and dad have been assholes after the accident.”
“A lot of parents are assholes to their kids’ friends,” Connor pointed out. “Look at how Dad was to Riley’s friends.”
“Only those with dicks,” Kane said. “That’s kind of what I’m afraid they’re going to do if I bring Miki around. I’d like him to be around an actual family thing, you know, so he can see what it’s like, but not if everyone’s going to tear him apart.”
“I’ll tell Mom you won’t be around tomorrow.” Connor got into his SUV and started the engine. He rolled down the window and leaned out to talk to his brother. “Don’t bring him around if you’re not going to keep him, K. If he’s as broken as you think he is, don’t let him get attached to the family if you’re going to jerk them away from him. That’s fucked up.”
“Like meeting the rest of us is going to make him fall instantly in love with me?” Kane snorted. “If anything, that’ll guarantee him running off.”
“Only if he wasn’t already in love with you,” Connor said, lightly smacking his brother on the side of the head. “Why don’t the two of you take it slow and see where it goes? He likes you, Kane. He doesn’t trust himself with you, and sometimes that’s a good thing. Don’t screw it up, little brother. If you’re going to keep him, hold onto him, even if he tears you up. Stitches heal. Your heart won’t if you walk away and leave him dying out in the sun.”
MIKI heard the living room door close and then Kane’s footsteps approaching the couch. Dude grumbled as Kane moved him to the floor. Then the sofa cushions gave slightly under the cop’s weight. He held his breath, hugging the pillow he’d buried his face into. The couch shifted when Kane leaned forward, and Miki trembled when the man’s large hands stroked his arm and hair.
“Come here,” Kane whispered.
Miki let himself be gathered up, not resisting when Kane pulled the pillow out of his arms. He shuddered as he breathed, caught up in the tremors racking his spine. Kane peeled off Miki’s jacket and tossed it over the back of the couch. Spreading his hands over the singer’s hips, he lifted Miki up and moved him back. The couch was barely wide enough for them to fit side by side and Kane used the stuffed couch arm for support, maneuvering between Miki and the seat back. With one arm under Miki’s shoulders, Kane stroked at the man’s face with his free hand, running his fingertips over Miki’s ripe mouth.
Miki parted his lips when Kane’s thumb skimmed them. Kane’s fingers were gentle on his chapped skin, rubbing gently as he traced the fullness of Miki’s pout. When Kane’s touch moved to his cheekbone, Miki closed his eyes, sighing and relaxing into Kane’s arm.
“You are so pretty,” Kane whispered. “Sometimes it hurts to look at you.”
“Yeah?” Miki opened his eyes and stared up into Kane’s face.
Kane’s black hair looked as if he’d rolled out of bed and dragged his fingers through it to get out most of the tangles. Faint fatigue lines framed his eyes, their deep blue a shade Miki’d only seen off the reef in Australia. The cop’s face wasn’t perfect. Someone or something had taken care of his nose’s straight line, and at some point Kane lost a minor skirmish with something that left a thin curve on his cheekbone. Another small scar, barely noticeable until Miki was close up, slightly creased Kane’s upper lip.
Kane was a guy Damien would call someone to keep instead of just fuck. Miki was inclined to agree. If only he was someone Kane could keep in return.
“You doing okay?” Kane whispered. His hand was large, big enough to cover Miki’s face, but every pass of his fingers was a velvety whisper over Miki’s skin.
“Yeah, I’ve had worse days.” He tried laughing it off, but Kane placed his thumb against the side of his mouth and stilled the fake smile Miki tried to conjure up.
“I hate that you’ve had worse than this,” Kane murmured. “I hate that you had this.”
It was a moment where a kiss would happen.