Dear Reader (Devil's Backbone, #1)

by Tate James

Carter nudged Nate with his elbow. “Royce is right. One thing at a time.” He shot me a dark, longing look and I looked away. I was a fucking idiot for letting him back into my panties.

“I mean, me, Ash, and Roycey can deal with this ourselves.” She patted Royce on the head. “Sorry, twin.” He smirked, because I’d called them twins a few days ago when their personalities aligned a little too much and they were now running with it.

“You didn’t trust us,” Carter said, seeming to read my mind. “Which is fair, given how things were at the time.” “But not since then. You could have told us at any point since then,” Royce argued, a deep scowl on his brow. “You still don’t trust us.” I couldn’t tell him he was wrong, no matter how much it hurt to see how disappointed he was in that realization. Part of me really still didn’t trust them. Any of them. So I just hung my head and twisted my fingers, unable to find the words to make it all better without lying.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Layne,” Nate spat. “You’ve got some of the most loyal, determined, and well-connected men standing right here in this room ready to blow up their perfect lives to keep you safe and you still have trust issues? Pull your head out of your ass.”

Carter scoffed. “Not a chance in hell. No freaking way. I wouldn’t risk that for all the tea in China.” “No,” Royce sneered. “You’ll just drag Ash into a classroom against her will for a quick fuck then crush her heart all over again when you’ve blown your load.” “What?!” Both Nate and Heath exploded at the same time, spinning on Carter in outrage.

She finally sobered up enough to dab her eyes and draw a breath. “Sorry,” she said between easing laughs, “Sorry, it wasn’t even that funny. I just started thinking about Nate’s face when he realized all three of his friends are besotted with you. He looked like he was going to shit his pants.” More giggles.

“I missed you,” he murmured, kissing the top of my head. I drew a deep breath, inhaling his uniquely Heath scent. “I’m sorry. I hate that I caused so much tension between you all. Nate’s a dick, but the rest of you don’t need me fucking up your lifelong friendships.” “Hey!” Nate protested, and I ignored him.

“Heathcliff,” Max called from the kitchen, “come help me with drinks for everyone!” “Yes, sir! Coming!” Heath replied, then dropped a quick, sweet kiss on my lips. “Can we please be good again? It’s torture being ignored by you.”

“You okay?” Heath asked, handing me a cocktail from the tray he’d carried into the living room. I gave him a tight smile as I accepted the drink. “Fine. Are you?” I gave him a closer look as he sat on the sofa beside me, noticing a slight redness to his cheekbone. His answering smile was sad, and he dropped a kiss on my shoulder. “I am now.”

Carter: Spark? It occurred to me, I’d never text him before so he likely didn’t have my number. Still…it got him to reply. Heath glanced over at my phone and I stiffened. We hadn’t discussed the Carter thing, and I didn’t want him getting the wrong impression. “I just sent them both a Happy Thanksgiving message,” I said quietly, feeling like I needed to explain. “Just in case…um…” “In case their holiday is going similar to mine?” he guessed, snuggling me into his side. “Probably a good idea.” He kissed my neck, just under my ear and I sighed with relief.

Carter: Has Nate been playing nice? He promised to be on his best behavior. I bit back a smile, reading the message in my head with Carter’s voice. I could just imagine how that conversation with Nate had gone…then I found myself questioning why the fuck Carter cared.

He got up from the couch as Carter entered the room like a dark prince returning from court. Fuck he was gorgeous. The heated glance he sent my way as he bro-hugged Heath nearly set me on fire too. Was I seriously getting turned on by the two of them embracing? Yes, apparently.

“Aw, come on Spark, that’s all I get?” he asked in mock outrage. “It’s Thanksgiving!” He extended his hand and I flicked a quick glance to Heath. He was smiling, though, his expression more relaxed and content than I’d seen in months, so I sighed and let Carter pull me up from the sofa to hug.

“I’m so sorry, Spark,” he whispered directly against my ear, his words only for me and no one else. Had he read my mind, or were my thoughts that obvious? “Please forgive me, I can’t let you go.” What the fuck did that mean? I was saved from having to reply

Carter tossed flirtatious grins across the table at me, seeming to make a sport of making me blush.

Without even realizing what I was doing, I dashed out to answer it and nearly cried when I found Royce standing there. His shoulders were slumped and his eyes red-rimmed and puffy. The smell of whiskey on his rumpled shirt was intense, but I didn’t hesitate when he stepped forward and grabbed me in a hug so tight it nearly cracked my ribs. “Can I sleep with you tonight, roomie?” he mumbled into my hair, lifting me off the ground with the intensity of his hug. “I don’t like being alone.” My heart cracked right the fuck open. “I don’t like being alone, either.” A deep shudder ran through him, and I just hugged him back.

He wasn’t wrong, either. Both seemed totally at ease with the fact that I was attracted to both of them, and although they respected the fact we were in my mom’s home—and therefore fucking all over the house was out of the question—it didn’t stop them shamelessly flirting. Much to Nate’s disgust.

Nate stopped me with that infuriating grab on my upper arm, though. “What?” I snapped, spinning to glare at him. His left eye twitched. “Just be careful, you reckless shithead. If you need us to help⁠—” “I’ll be fine.”

“And I always sleep better when I’ve, um…” he seemed to realize what he was saying and trailed off, thinking of another line of reasoning. I laughed, kissing his scruffy jaw. “When you’ve blown your load, honey? Is that what you were going to say?” He gave a pained grunt. “That doesn’t sound sexy. Um, what I meant to say…was…uh I’m not likely to fall asleep until I know you aren’t frustrated and tense.” “Oh, I see,” I said with a chuckle. Then all of a sudden, my shirt was whipped up over my head as if by magic and tossed aside. “Smooth move, Heathcliff.”

“That…wasn’t my plan,” he muttered. Then he withdrew and shimmied down the bed to hook my legs over his shoulders.

I gasped, peering down at him with disbelief. “Heath, you can’t—you literally just⁠—” “I know,” he replied, spreading my folds with his fingers as he got a close-up view of the mess he’d just left. “Fuck me, that’s so hot.” Then he slipped his tongue right on in there.

Carter sleepily walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. Then he saw me and smiled a lazy smile. “Spark’s here,” he observed out loud, changing his course to greet me with a huge hug.

I hugged him back, inhaling deeply then coughing. He smelled of smoke. And gasoline. “Carter, why do you—” I started to ask, then a thump came from Heath’s bedroom, interrupting me. Nate’s brows shot up. “Carter, man, did Heath come back here last night?” The gorgeous, half-asleep smokestack shook his head. “Don’t think so.”

My beautiful, troubled boy was there in the middle of the room, a makeshift noose around his neck as he hung from the ceiling fan.