I bite my lower lip for a moment, inhaling and finding Cal’s talc and aftershave scent mixed with the fresh bite of sweat. Why is it so hot when guys have that fresh sweat smell? I mean, after a while, sure, it’s not so sexy anymore, but when they’re warm and that tattooed skin is moist …

I shake my hands out, and Callum’s smile turns into a grin.

“Did you really get throat punched by a member of a rival gang?” I ask, and one of Cal’s blond brows goes up before he laughs, that smoky chuckle making me shiver.

“Nah. No chance I’m letting some gang banging asshole touch my throat.” Callum draws a line across his neck with a blue-painted fingernail. Pretty sure that’s his favorite color. He chuckles again and shakes his head. But from what I can remember, his voice used to be this angelic whisper. I get that he’s gone through puberty since, but still, that voice of his is so husky and dark. Something must’ve happened. He taps his fingers against the side of his neck. “Is that the rumor going around Prescott?” I shrug. We both know that it is. Cal leans in and puts his mouth near my ear, the soft, pink curve of his lower lip brushing against my lobe. “You don’t like my voice?” he asks, that husky sound curling around me like smoke.

“I love it, actually,” I say, turning so that his mouth brushes my cheek and we’re staring right at each other. Cal barely talks to me, but not like how Aaron ignores me. It’s obvious Aaron is avoiding me, and we both know why that is. But Callum … he may as well be a stranger.

“Sometimes pain is pretty, to the people who have too much of it,” he tells me, and then kisses me on the cheek. “You’re gorgeous, by the way.” Cal pulls back and heads up the stairs toward the bathroom, leaving me gaping after him and trying to figure out what that last comment just meant.

Pain is pretty. And I’m made of it.

Hael appears from the direction of the laundry room a moment later, reeking of marijuana and soaked in sweat. He grabs two beers from the fridge, offers one up to me, and then leans against the counter, the bare skin of his arms covered in little green pot leaves.

“Trimming is simple work but tedious work, fuck my life,” he groans, downing the beer. I'm not a hundred percent sure what, exactly, trimming is. I take it to mean he's trimming pot leaves off the plant.

“Why are they so … sticky?” I ask as I move over to him, peeling one off of his bicep and finding that even that simple touch between us ignites that fire in my body.

“Dunno, science-y shit. More crystals and terpenes or something. Now you know why good weed's called sticky-icky, huh?” Hael pauses as Aaron comes out of the laundry room, closing the door behind him. There's a bathroom just off of it, and on the other side a door to a poorly converted garage. I mean, there's drywall in there and a carpet over the cement, but it's cold as hell and still feels like a garage. I remember because Aaron and I used to fuck in there sometimes.

He sees me there with my fingers still resting on Hael's arm, and it's like every emotion in his face goes dark all at once.

“I'm gonna shower.”

“Cal's in there,” I say and Aaron groans, grabbing a beer and then slumping to the floor of the kitchen. It smells like pot so bad in here. I wonder if the neighbors can smell us down the block? I wouldn't be surprised. Good thing weed's legal in Oregon now, although I imagine the boys are growing and selling it in illegal ways …

I draw my hand back from Hael, and I refuse to think about his dick in my mouth, or me riding him in his Camaro … Fuck. So much for that. It’s all I can think about now.

Victor appears in the doorway to the kitchen as if summoned, this dark shadow that makes me shiver. I don't look at him, sipping my beer and keeping my attention on the cabinets instead.

“Are you done?” he asks them, and the boys nod. “Good. We'll drop most of the product off tomorrow and keep the rest here for emergencies.” He glances my way, maybe noticing the way Hael and I are leaning into each other. I refuse to meet his gaze until he talks to me like a goddamn adult.

“Shower's free!” Callum calls down the stairs, and Aaron groans, rising to his feet and flicking a glance over at Hael.

“Mind if I go first?”

“Have at it,” Hael says, and he, on the other hand, has no problem looking right at Vic. I glance back and find that Oscar's gone, leaving the three of us alone in the dark kitchen. The only light comes from the cracked door of the fridge. “Are you finally going to say it aloud? You know Bernadette and I fucked in my car. And we gave each other head in Vaughn's office. You know fucking everything, so why not just say what you're thinking and get it over with? Because both Bernadette and I don't get it. Isn't this part of why she's here? To be our girl? Our girl? Or is she just your girl then?”

Victor stiffens up, and I finally gather the courage to glance his way. His jaw is clenched, but he isn't saying anything. Instead, he just slides his dark gaze from Hael and over to me.

“Did you like it?” he asks, and there are so many shadows in his face that I can barely make out his expression. “Screwing Hael in that pretty car of his?”

“You're the one that told me to do it,” I snap back, realizing that I'm already shaking. He's doing it to me again, melting that frigid core inside of my heart and releasing a torrent of emotions that are impossible to make sense of. “You practically commanded me to fuck him.”

Vic laughs, but the sound is dark, foreign. It puts this gap between us, a yawning chasm that can never close.

“You're right, I did,” he says, and then shakes his head, raking his fingers through his hair. “You could barely stand letting me touch you, but the look on your face when you were riding him … Well, shit, Hael must be as good as all the sluts at Fuller High say he is.”

“You were watching us?” I grind out, but I'm full of shit because I knew he was. I knew it. And I wanted him to watch. “And don't call them sluts. If anyone's a slut, it's Hael.”

“I'm still standing here,” he snaps, sounding irritated. “Do you two want me to leave so you can anger fuck each other on the kitchen counter?”

“I want you two in the master bedroom,” Vic commands, tearing himself away from my gaze and heading for the hallway. “Now.”

“This is insane,” Hael growls out, scrubbing at his face with his hand. He glances over at me. “You didn't like him touching you?”

“That wasn't what happened,” I reply, feeling the layers of my anger crack and break apart.

When Vic touches me, my shields fall away, and I can't breathe. When he touches me, all I can think about is how I want him to touch me more. When he's not around, all I think about is how to get him back.

It's an obsession I've had for years.

Victor Channing, my dark, little secret want.

“Huh.” Hael sets his beer aside and stands up, offering out a hand for me to take. I do, letting him pull me to my feet, and then carefully extracting my fingers from his. We head down the hall together, one of my palms pressed into my stomach, trying to quiet the sudden rush of nervous energy that's percolating through me.