are at turning off your brain and letting your body do the work."
From anyone else, the words would have sounded like a lewd, clumsy come-on. From Bren, it was a straightforward answer, one made all the more ironic by how her body reacted to him any time she was foolish enough to turn off her brain. She was painfully aware of his graceful movements, of the appealing, subtle shift of muscle under skin as he held out a bottle.
"You should know," she retorted, taking care not to let her fingers brush his as she accepted the beer. Maybe her tart tone would cover her confusion. "If I could stop thinking, maybe I'd actually beat you in a fight one of these days."
A rare smile curved his lips. "I've had years of training when it comes to fighting, and decades of practice on the not thinking."
Those smiles were dangerous, and not because they made her skin tingle. They were dangerous because she couldn't not smile in return, her lips tilting up to ruin her scowl. "That just makes you old. I will put you on your ass next time."
"That's what I like to hear."
"Sure, grandpa. Tell me that after I beat you."
That made him laugh as he leaned against the bench beside her. "Cruz and Trix have their ink, but they've still got to drink in, make it official."
Rachel had explained the process in vague terms, something about making a new member do shots of all the O'Kane liquors before welcoming them into the gang. It had taken Six a month to realize Rachel hadn't been keeping gang secrets--that really was all that happened. No beatdowns for the men, no spreading your legs for the women. Just...booze and celebration.
A few dozen city blocks separated the O'Kane compound from Sector Three, but she might as well be on the moon. "It's an O'Kane thing, I guess," she said carefully, unable to keep her gaze from his wrists. Dark ink swirled around his muscled forearms, stopping just above his broad hands. The O'Kane wrist cuffs, proof that he belonged.
"An O'Kane thing," he echoed in agreement. "Do you want to go?"
She touched her own wrist, rubbing her thumb over skin that felt naked. "Am I allowed?"
Bren shrugged. "You'll go with me, like Jasper and Noelle's party."
Maybe it was that simple. Dallas O'Kane was the most powerful man in the Sector--one of the most powerful men in their world--and Bren was part of his inner circle. Rules didn't seem to apply to him, or to her when she was with him.
Which didn't answer his question--did she want to go? "How much like Jas and Noelle's party is it going to be?" she asked, and her cheeks heating at the memory of how quickly that celebration had turned into a shameless fuckfest.
"More like fight night," he hastily explained. "People might be getting it on in the corners or grinding on the dance floor, but it's not--I mean, it's different."
Six covered her embarrassment by nudging his leg with her boot. "So no wall-to-wall fucking."
"No, just people drinking and having a good time."
"Okay. It sounds fun." She nudged him again, more for the excuse of contact than anything else. He'd encouraged her to ask for physical affection when she wanted it, but she liked sneaking in teasing touches. Liked knowing she could, and that he wouldn't hurt her for taking liberties. "Thanks for including me."
"You're not a guest." He watched her intently. "This is your home."
Home. Longing hollowed out her chest, a craving for a concept she could barely fathom, because it always started with safety. "I don't know if I've ever had a home before."
Bren nodded. "A lot of people here haven't. You're not alone."
She knew what he meant--that she wasn't alone in being overwhelmed--but the words resonated more deeply. Maybe because her panic from earlier had faded under the quiet warmth of his undemanding presence.
Or maybe because she really was getting soft.
Some part of her trusted Bren, for better or worse, and that made his words true on every level. Closing her eyes, she leaned in until her shoulder touched his. She wouldn't be able to ignore her body's shiver of reaction forever, but tonight she focused on the satisfaction of friendship. "No. I'm not alone."
"So, how 'bout it?" He hesitated. "I can't skip the party, but you could, if you wanted."
She considered it for a moment, balanced the loneliness of being the only person on the compound not celebrating against the awkwardness of being the