Bet on Ecstasy by Stacey Kennedy

intervention or hated them for it, a finger caught her jaw. She turned and discovered Smith’s eyes were warm, yet troubled. “Answer me, Kyra.”
    His powerful stare captivated her, and the strength shown in his features eased her. When he looked at her that way, her world settled. To be touched by him, looked at by him, it eased the coldness that’d been flowing through her veins. For the first time in two weeks, she lost herself in the sensation of rightness. “What was the question again?”
    “Why do you look so tired?” Smith’s eyebrows drew together with his frown, his eyes appearing nearly black. “You don’t look well.”
    “I…” She gulped.
    “Miss us,” Brock stated.
    His voice was classically light, and Kyra had missed the contradictions between the two. In the exact moment and dealing with the same situation, Smith was serious where Brock was lighthearted. It comforted her. Where Smith could make the mood overly tense, Brock knew how to soften it to the right amount to ensure things stayed under control.
    Though she realized Brock had made a statement. One everyone at this table knew was true. Her lips parted to give some response, but all that came out was a whisper of air.
    Smith captured her chin again, commanding her gaze. “Why are you punishing yourself like this?”
    Kyra experienced the weight of his study right down to the center of her soul. She hated the clench of her chest. More so, she cursed the moisture welling in her eyes. Smith was right—it had been torture. She’d never been this weak, this lonely.
    Each night had seemed harder than the one before. The desire to be in their arms tugged at her heart. She’d grown used to hearing their voices or going to sleep close to them. She didn’t even feel like herself anymore. Where had strong, focused, depend-on-no-one Kyra vanished to?
    Through all this awareness, making her realize her attachment to the men went far deeper than she’d been willing to admit, two hard truths remained. The reasons she had ended it with them hung over her like a dark cloud.
    Nothing had changed.
    She might love them, but she wouldn’t live the life her parents had. She wouldn’t repeat their mistakes. She wanted a man—or two of them—who worked nine-to-five, came home, and left work at work.
    As much as her body told her to stay right there with them, she needed to stick to her reasons for ending it. She was stronger than this, no matter that her heart wept for their return and her body begged for their touch. “You know why this can’t work. It’s hard now,” she admitted, looking at them. “Okay, yes, this has been hell for me. But I’ll get over this. I’ll move on, and so will the both of you.”
    Smith’s lips pursed, and his voice became hard. “No, Kyra. I won’t get over this and move on.”
    Brock frowned, then shook his head in frustration. “Let’s be clear. You have two concerns. The first, this relationship can’t work out between us because of how others will perceive us?”
    Smith added, “As in, you can’t imagine how we will look in the public eye?”
    “Well, yes.” She gave the bar a quick once-over. No one else would hear their conversation, but she lowered her voice anyway. “In public, how would I explain such a relationship?”
    Kole snorted. “Kyra, didn’t we already talk about this?”
    She didn’t need Kole coming down on her too. Just because she’d fallen for these men didn’t mean they could make this work. “You weren’t being questioned at the charity function. I was,” she snapped. “I know what it felt like having all those people watching me. Having no idea what to say. Do you think I want to live like that forever? Having to be careful and not tell people that I’m in love with two men.”
    Awkward silence cut through the air.
    Kole’s smirk was indication enough that Kyra had put her foot in her mouth. She looked at the table, not wanting to admit again or comment on the fact that