Page 41 of Bend

Because under all the swagger and noise, I know exactly what's going through his head. The edge of panic. The instinct to laugh it off before it turns into something real.

Echo seems to catch that too, because when she speaks again, her voice is still playful, but softer around the edges.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

His eyes flick up.

Then to me, and there it is again, that tight pull low in my chest. Buzzed head, sharp blue eyes, neck ink crawling up his throat, mouth still kiss-swollen and a little wrecked—Thorne looks dangerous even when he’s the one coming undone.

I step closer, careful not to crowd him. “She’s right.”

Thorne’s throat works once. “You’re both being very calm about this.”

I smile. “Should I be less calm?”

“That would honestly help.”

Echo laughs softly and pushes off the dresser.

“Maybe you two should stop thinking it. I mean it’s obvious you want each other.”

She steps right between us when she says it, one hand catching the front of my shirt, the other finding Thorne’s wrist and tugging him closer too. Then she turns toward me first, her body slotting into the space she’s just made, and rises just enough to press her mouth to mine.

It’s slow and intentional.

I kiss her back, my hand settling at her waist while she keeps hold of Thorne with her other hand, like she already knows he’s the one more likely to slip if she lets go.

When she pulls back from me, it’s only far enough to turn her head and body toward him.

Her fingers slide from his wrist to the front of his shirt, and she kisses him next, easy and unhurried, giving him room to meet her halfway.

Thorne lets out this soft, surprised breath against her mouth, and the sound hits me low and hard, a sharp jolt straight to my cock that catches me off guard with how fast it happens.

Fuck.

I don’t know if it’s him making that sound, or the sight of him finally letting himself lean into something instead of joking his way around it, but it gets me bad.

Echo kisses him again, still patient, still coaxing more than taking, and I watch the way his hand tightens at her waist, the way his lashes lower, and his whole body seems caught between nerves and fucking want.

Watching them together sends a chill through me in the best way, the kind that starts at the back of my neck and rolls all the way down my spine.

She shifts again, turning so her shoulder brushes my chest while she faces Thorne, one hand reaching back for me without looking, keeping me close while she kisses him once more. Then she pivots the other way, her palm gliding over my sternum as she comes back to me, pressing another kiss to my mouth before glancing at him through her lashes like she knows exactly how tight she’s pulling this fucking line.

By now I’m hard enough to be annoyed about it, and very aware I’m not the only one feeling this.

I catch his eye over her shoulder, but he quickly looks away.

Echo notices, and a faint smile touches her mouth, as then she plants a hand on each of us and draws us in closer, her body the only thing between ours now.

“There,” she murmurs, like she’s half talking to herself.

Thorne laughs under his breath, all rough edges. “You’re taking the piss now, you know that?”

“Maybe.”

Thorne looks completely wrecked by it.

Not in some dramatic, cinematic way. In a real one. His mouth pink from Echo’s kisses, chest rising a little too fast, as his eyes flicker to mine and away again like he wants this badly enough to hate himself for it.