Micah hurried forward. “I can help with that,” he blurted, reaching out. “That looks really heavy.”
Kai paused, looking back at Micah. That intense gaze still gave Micah a jolt down his spine.
Carefully, Micah unhooked the bag from Kai’s teeth. “There, I don’t want you hurting yourself,” Micah whispered. At least the bag wasn’t so heavy—just bulky.
Kai worked his jaw. “Thanks. You sure you don’t need help with that?”
“If you can carry it with your teeth, I can manage,” Micah said. “It’d be a pity if you lost your molars because you were moving.”
Kai snorted, smiling that rakish grin again. “That’s the least of my concerns.”
Micah gulped. No alpha should look that attractive—and have an equally-attractive stepbrother to boot. “Anyway, this goes in the room, right?”
“Yeah. Thanks,” Kai said, his smile mellowing.
Micah felt the prickle of Kai’s gaze as he hurried away, easing past York and Spike to drop the bag off. Kai followed him into the room, dropping off his own loads.
“What’s left?” York asked.
“Just the mattress,” Spike answered. “The rest is up here.”
They disappeared through the front door again, leaving Micah and Kai in the living room.
“Thanks again,” Kai said, bowing his head. “Wasn’t expecting you to offer your home like that. It was really short notice, too.”
Micah shrugged. “That’s fine. I don’t mind.”
They fell into silence, just looking around. Micah realized he hadn’t spent enough time around Kai and Spike, to know what they chatted about regularly. Hell, he didn’t know much about them at all, period.
“I hope your ankle’s been doing better,” Micah said.
“Somewhat.” Kai glanced at his feet. “I’m supposed to use the crutches for another week, at least. Haven’t used crutches before—they’re a pain. Not sure how you spend every day hobbling around with a walking stick.”
Micah snuffled, surprised. Kai had been watching him? “The stick helps a lot. It’s much better than wobbling everywhere I go.”
Kai was quiet for a moment. “Makes sense. I hadn’t thought about it that way before.”
He looked at Micah’s leg, and Micah fought the urge to hide it away. He shouldn’t have to—he was wearing dark pants today, and a long-sleeved shirt.
Kai’s gaze flicked back to lock on Micah’s eyes. “You don’t have to hide your scars. I’m not repulsed.”
That surprised Micah enough that he stopped squirming. “You—aren’t?”
“Nah.” Kai shrugged. “They’re just scars.”
Micah touched his bald spots. “But... they’re ugly.”
Kai snorted. “Ugly? No. But there’s some people out there who are ugly as fuck. They don’t even have scars.”
That... was a strong statement. And Micah wondered what Kai had seen, to make him think that way.
“I think scars aren’t so bad. They help me read people better,” Kai said.
Micah grimaced. “So... you’ve read me, then. And made your judgments.”
Kai met his eyes. “You always look afraid of me. Like you think I’m gonna tear you up or something.”
Well, Micah had thought that, yes. But having Kai say it out loud—that was embarrassing. “I’m not so afraid now, I guess.” Micah smiled wanly. “I know you a little better.”
Kai chuckled. “Because Spike dragged us into bed together?”
Micah couldn’t help glancing at the front door, his skin prickling. What if Spike and York returned and overheard? “Yes. Spike is... quite the character.”
“He’s good. Thinks about sex all the time, but he’s real sweet. You’ve seen him for yourself.”
“I have.” Micah remembered last week, at the office. Kai growling because Micah had accidentally insulted Spike. “You seem really protective of him.”
“I am. Our parents married when we were ten. Dad’s an alcoholic. Mom’s working two jobs a day now. We take turns to give her cash. Never really had an alpha-parent figure my whole life. My family’s really only me, Spike, and our mom.”
Micah stared at Kai in dismay. “Has it always been that way? If—you don’t mind me asking.”
Kai looked away. “Yeah. That’s some depressing shit, though. Talk about something else. Favorite food.”
A laugh bubbled from Micah’s chest. In his own way, Kai was... funny. Warm. There was pain in his past, and someday, maybe he might tell Micah more of it. “I love cheesy garlic mashed potatoes.”
Kai quirked his eyebrows. “Sounds good. Spike loves baby back ribs slow-cooked with steak seasoning.”
“What about you?”
Surprise flickered in Kai’s gaze, as though he’d expected Micah to be content with his brother’s favorite food. “Fish. Rubbed with salt, and fried with ginger.”
“That’s... sure different,” Micah said, his mouth watering. Except his stomach had different thoughts, clenching and roiling. It’s too soon for morning sickness to set in. “I’d like to try cooking it someday.”
Kai perked up. “Oh—did Spike mention? We can take turns to make dinner. ‘Specially now that I’m stuck on bed rest.”
“You can cook?” Micah asked. And then realized it was a stupid question—with a family like his, Kai and Spike must’ve learned to fend for themselves when they were far too young.
“We started learning when we were about ten,” Kai said. “Mom taught us the basics, bit by bit.”
“She sounds like a wonderful mom,” Micah said. The sort of mom he would sit down and chat with, and bring gifts to.
“Yeah, she isn’t so different from you,” Kai said, his gaze turning shrewd, thoughtful. “She’s strong, too. I hate to say it, but she’s practically a single parent. I wish—” For a moment, anger flickered through Kai’s face, ferocity and disappointment. “I wish my dad would just... quit drinking. Would be nice.”
Micah’s chest hurt for him. What was it like, having a dad who wasn’t around?
He limped across the few feet between them, taking Kai’s hand gently. “If you ever need to talk about it, or vent, I’m here.”
Kai’s eyebrows lifted. “You don’t have to.”
“The same goes for Spike,” Micah said.
Kai chuckled. “He’ll be pleased to know.” Then his smile turned fond, and his gaze softened. “I can see why he likes you, you know. You’re kind. And strong.”
Micah stared, stunned for words. “I’m just... me.”
Had anyone ever described him that way? Kind? Strong? Aside from York, Kai was probably the first to. Micah almost dismissed
