Loving Ean (The Fae Guard Book 2) (25 page)

“What the fuck, dude? I just got home after spending ten days away and I’ve only been asleep for a few minutes! Can’t this wait?” I bellow. I’m almost positive that there is steam coming out my ears and I’m one wrong word away from knocking out a few of his teeth.

Brannon has the gall to fucking grin at me, his stupid white teeth practically blinding me with their intensity. “You got home around three this afternoon, didn’t you?” he asks.

“Yeah, so what the fuck are you—wait, did you say this afternoon?” I’m groggy and slightly bewildered by his choice of phrase.

“Ean, its ten o’clock at night,” he informs me with a chuckle.

I step back and squint at the clock on the wall beside the door in disbelief. Damn, seven hours and I’m still completely wiped out. “Ok, so it’s later than I thought,” I grumble, “Goodnight.” I start to shut the door but Brannon smacks it with a stiff wind and knocks me on my ass. I’m a little bit more awake now, and a whole lot more pissed off. “Brannon, haven’t you ever heard not to poke the sleeping bear? Let me simplify that for you, just in case the analogy is too complicated for your microscopic brain.” I’m still sitting on the floor with Brannon standing over me, in a wide stance with his arms crossed over his chest. My words lose some of their bite from my vulnerable position, so I put as much intimidation in my eyes and voice as I can muster. “You,” I growl, pointing up at him, “Are the obnoxious and pointy stick.” I glance at his crotch before adding, “Small but pointy.”

Brannon rolls his eyes, not quite the reaction I was going for. I poke my chest with my thumb and say, “I am—or was,” I glare at him, “the sleeping bear.” Brannon is back to smiling smugly and any remorse I felt for what I’m about to do, rides off into the sunset.

“What happens when you poke the bear?” I sneer. I swing my leg out, hitting the back of the knee causing the limb to buckle, and as he falls back, I push him up a little higher with a gust of air, and then let him fall right into the saturated air I’ve created beneath him. When he lands on his ass, he is completely soaked from head to toe, sputtering unintelligible words. I hop up and saunter back to my bed, “Never let your confidence get in the way of your awareness, idiot.” I throw back over my shoulder. I sit on the edge and lean down to unlace my black work boots, feeling a little more awake, but still ready to get back to my hot dreams about—well, hot dreams, we’ll leave it at that.

Brannon heaves himself off of the ground and shakes the excess water off like a dog, spraying me. “Seriously?” I mutter. He just laughs and heads for the door. You’d think I would have pissed him off, but Brannon has always been the one to let things roll off of his back and find the humor in most situations. He stops and turns. “I’m going to go change and you’re going to shower and clean yourself up.”

My voice is skeptical when I ask, “Oh? Why’s that?” I can’t think of much that is going to drag me away from this bed.

“Because Aden agreed to detach himself from his wife for a night and hang out with us. He and Kendrix will meet us at Rock Falls.” He smirks at me, knowing he’s got me.

Aden has been consumed with Shaylee and their unborn kids. Yup. Kids. As in two. As in, Aden’s head won’t fit through most doors because he made two kids with one shot (his words, not mine). It’s been a really long time since we’ve hung out—the four of us—like we used to. I get it, I do. Life changes and there is no going back, but since I’ve chosen a different path for myself, I’ll eventually be sitting at the bar with three empty seats. Which means, I’m jumping at the chance to have a moment like it was and not think about how it’s going to be.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be ready in thirty.” I wave him out of the room and after he shuts the door, I let a smile spread across my face and pump my fist in the air.
Are you twelve?
I guess so.

I rush to shower, shave, and throw on jeans and black t-shirt, then meet Brannon at the door. We set off for the bar and I relax into my seat as I drive. This is going to be the first genuinely happy night I’ve had in a long time. The only thing that would make it better would be taking a girl home with me afterwards.

A girl?

Ok,
the
girl. I haven’t been around much lately, so it’s made it easier to avoid Laila. When I see her, I almost forget all of the reasons why I pushed her away. Fate hasn’t severed our connection yet and I’m not sure why, but a little part of me is grateful every day that I wake up and know that our souls are still connected. Because somehow, my warped brain tells me that she is still mine, even in the smallest capacity.

We pull into the crowded parking lot and are lucky to grab a space as someone backs out. I stuff my keys and wallet into my pockets and stroll into the dim lights of Rock Falls. Aden and Kendrix are lounging on stools, leaning back against the bar, talking and drinking from longneck bottles. Aden spots us first as we weave through the tables and stands. When I reach him, he grabs my hand and pulls me in tight, pounding on my back. I return the gesture, then move back and bump fists with Kendrix in greeting.

“I feel like it’s been fucking forever since I’ve seen you, man.” Aden says, dropping back down onto the black, vinyl top of his stool. “I know I’ve been busy with Shaylee and getting ready for the girls,” he admits, “but, you’re never around either. The last bit comes out on a little critical and I bristle at his tone.

“I’ve been focusing on the job and—” Something he said registers, and I back track to make sure I heard it right. “Did you say
girls?
”

Aden shakes his head ruefully, “We found out yesterday. Both girls.”

“Dude, you are so fucked,” Kendrix declares.

I can’t keep the smile off of my face when I think about Aden being bossed around by so many girls. “That’s a lot of estrogen, man. I’m just warning you, if I see you having a tea party, I’m going to make you surrender your man card.”

Kendrix points the top of his bottle at Aden and grimaces, “You’re going to need that man card when they start dating.” Aden’s face loses some of its color and Kendrix nods, “Yep. You’re totally fucked.” He swallows down the rest of his beer and waves over the bartender.

“No dating.” Aden croaks, his voice sounding rough and dry. He swallows hard, “Brothers. That’s what I’ll do. I’m going to need help, so they need a whole lot of brothers.” He sounds more resolute now and his face is back to its normal shade of pale.

Kendrix snickers, “Can I be there when you tell Shaylee about all these brothers you’re going to give your girls?” Aden flips him the bird and that just makes Kendrix double over in laughter. Contentment washes over me and I soak in the moment, the foreign sensations of relaxing and having fun, make me think that maybe I’ll be able to do this; to survive without Laila and still find some happiness.

“What are you drinking?” Aden shouts the question and I give him a dirty look while I rub my abused eardrum. “What? I asked you three times.”

I shrug. I guess I was a little lost in my thoughts. “Whatever’s on tap.” Aden turns to relay our order to the bartender, a large, muscular guy with long, white hair that is braided back from each temple and into a ponytail at his neck. His face is square with prominent angles, there are black gauges in his ears, and tattoos peeking out from the collar and sleeves of the bar t-shirt he’s wearing. He looks like the kind of guy you don’t want to cross

He holds up a hand in greeting and Aden waves at me to come closer so he can introduces us. “This is Fafner. Phin hired him a couple of months ago to help run the bar, so he could have more time off.”

I almost snort when Aden tells me his name. Fafnar means dragon.
Fitting.

However, when his mossy green eyes land on me, they are bright and engaging, his smile wide, and deeply grooved laugh lines by each eye. He reaches out to shake my hand and I take it feeling as though I’m welcoming home an old friend.

“Hey,” I greet, “Have we met before?”

Fafner laughs, “I get that a lot.”

I scan the bar but he’s evidently on his own tonight, I’m quite surprised considering its Friday night. “Where is Phin?” I ask.

He shrugs, “On a date probably.” Fafner smirks. “It’s the only reason I would take a Friday night off.” Then he winks and turns to grab mugs for the tap. Half listening to the conversation between Brannon and Kendrix, I lean on my forearms, resting on the shiny wooden surface of the bar, and waiting for my drink. I feel a slight breeze, a tell-tale that the front door has just been opened. Reflexively, I look over my shoulder to see who has walked in and when I do, time stops.

Laila. Everybody has been so busy lately that I haven’t seen much of her for the last few months, not since the wedding. I drink in the sight of her, she is so fucking gorgeous, standing there in white shorts (a little too damn short), a yellow tank top with lacy straps (damn that’s sexy), and matching yellow converse on her feet. Her hair has grown a little longer, now hanging just below her shoulder and her lips are glossed pink and just begging to be kissed. Out of nowhere, need slams into me and I have to grip the countertop to keep myself from falling when my legs buckle. In this moment, I realize that every step I thought I’d made away from her was, in fact, just leading me in a circle that comes right back to her. Every minute that I was without her races through my brain at warp speed, refreshing the anguish of missing her, the desperate need to be inside her, and . . . my body is trembling as I’m forced to face it, to stop running from the truth of it. How much I love her.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I should give us another chance. I stand up, intent on going to her and I feel some of the weight from these months of being apart lift just slightly. I just know that the closer I get to her, the lighter that weight will become. But, before I can move from my spot, time unfreezes and the door opens once again. This time, Phin steps in, handing Laila her purse and dropping a quick kiss on her lips, receiving a—a smile in return.

The edges of my vision start to turn red and a raging burn crawls through me, I clench my hands so hard that the blunt fingernails still cut into my flesh. I’m going to beat the shit out of this guy, skin him alive, and then leave him in the shadows to wither without sun. Pain. I’m going to make him feel unimaginable pain for putting his lips on my Laila. No lips should ever brush across her silky skin but mine. I start to tremble as the rage grows and the red darkens my vision even further. Your days are numbered, motherfucker.

Through the haze, I register a stinging sensation on one of my arms. Then another on the opposite arm. I try to jerk my limbs away from the uncomfortable feeling, only to have it intensify and my shoulders begin to ache. What the fuck? Every time I struggle, it gets stronger and it begins to cut through the fog, clearing some of the red from my vision. My eyes are glued to the couple, watching their every movement as they make their way around tables to the back of the bar. They reach the entrance to the back room and every single cell on my body is suspended at the top of a never ending free fall.

The panic burst and begins to dissipate when she stiffens and shakes her head, pointing in another direction. My head follows them until they disappear into Phin’s office and even then, I’m craning my neck as if it would give me some ability to see through the door. There’s a buzzing in my ear and I attempt to swat it away, but my arms are still restricted. I shake my head and the buzzing gets a little louder, only now it sounds more like words.

“Ean, you need to calm the fuck down!” I realize its Aden speaking and a little more of the red haze ebbs until it’s gone.

I hear Kendrix on my other side, “Let’s get him the fuck out of here.”

You definitely need to get out of here. Out of Mivo, out of Rien, out of anywhere that reminds you of her.

I finally feel fully cognizant and notice that the sting and ache were from Aden and Kendrix, holding my arms back to keep me from following Laila and Phin. I try to shake them off now as they shuffle me to the door, but they don’t let go until we are outside. Rolling my shoulders and shaking out my arms, I try to get the blood flowing again. I want to yell at them for manhandling me, but I know they did the right thing. There’s no fucking way I’m going to cop to that though, so I don’t say a word as I unlock the car and get in.

Aden and Kendrix are outside the car talking quietly when Brannon leaves the bar and strolls over to them. I impatiently rev the engine a couple of time, just to be a dick. Brannon flips me off and they continue to converse for another minute until Brannon finally opens his door and swings down into the black leather seat of my mustang. I stare at the stick shift for a second wondering if my recovering arm will work enough to drive. Brannon opens his mouth, most likely to offer to drive, but my withering stare shuts him up. I start the engine and shift into reverse.
Ok, not bad. Now let’s see you try first gear.
Success. The drive isn’t as smooth as usual, but we get back to the house in a decent amount of time.

The boys are idling in Aden’s silver Audi, A5 convertible. When they see me pull in, they shut off the engine and exit the car, causing me to groan and rest my head back against the seat top. I feel like an addict going into an intervention with the way they are all watching me warily. What do they think I’m going to do?

Snap and attack like a rabid dog.
I muzzle the little shit in my head.

With a loud, suffering sigh, I get out of the car and start for the front door. “Ean,” Somebody calls. I don’t give a fuck who it is, I just wave noncommittally in the air and continue on inside. I make a bee line for the den and grab a bottle of scotch sitting on the sideboard. It would be rude of me not to offer some to the three fuckers who follow me in here.
Mental eye roll and snort here—what the fuck do I care?

Kendrix heads to the cabinet for a drink, but Aden and Brannon each take a seat, eyeing me suspiciously.
Not so mental eye roll here.

“For the love of Fate, would you guys stop staring at me like I’m a science experiment gone wrong?” I gripe, then toss back half the glass of scotch.