Chapter 136 - Inseparable

Daphne

“So let me get this straight–”

Two of the most powerful men in the world sat there at the breakfast table, looking down at their plates like kindergartners who just been scolded.

“You,” I leveled a finger at Louis, “Decided to join the training session this morning, even though you are advanced far beyond their level.”

“And you… well, I think it's fair to assume you’ve progressed well beyond basic weapons training as well.” I moved my finger to aim at Nash. The tips of his ears were turning a very interesting color.

“And then, you thought it would be a good idea to partner up?”

Louis cleared his throat, “I thought it would be a good idea of Nash had a partner that could actually challenge him.”

Nash grunted, rather than actually admit that Louis had been a worthy opponent.

“And at what point did you decide to go into full contact?”

“He started it.”

Louis leveled an irritated glare at Nash, which Nash returned in full force. “Yeah, well you sure as hell finished it, didn’t you?”

“Hey! Focus, boys!” I drew their attention back to me, and at once their expressions melted from irritation to contrition. “So, I think we have made a discovery. It’s not just sex that activates the bond-link now. It seems to be a heightened emotional state. And now I have bruised knuckles and a goose egg on my head.”

“Jeezus Daphne, I’m really sorry, I had no idea…” Louis said with a cringe. Louis’s expression mirrored Nash’s.

“But it’s not every time we are emotional. I was pretty p.issed off when I fought with Pilar, but you didn’t feel that.” Nash said.

“I felt it when she punched you in the dick.” Louis pointed out. “But Daphne didn’t.”

“Maybe that’s because I don’t have a dick,” I suggested, unable to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

“Obviously, the difference is we were fighting with each other,” Nash pointed out reasonably. "So as long as we don’t do that anymore, Daphne should be safe.”

I had a suspicion it wasn’t just the physical act of fighting, it was the state of arousal. And I wasn’t just thinking about the sexual arousal I felt at the end. There was something different, something about the two very dominant men facing off, the energy of the fight, the draw of the mate-bond, a desire to test and to challenge each other that went beyond a simple sparring session.

“I’m sorry we hurt you Daphne,” Louis said, very solemnly. “I assure you I would never do anything to purposely cause you pain.”

“We-” Nash corrected him. “We would never hurt you on purpose.”

All during the conversation, the staff had been quietly moving around the room. Coffee and teas were poured, glasses of fruit juice were willed, and plates of food were set on the table in front of us. I was still missing my morning coffee, but I had found the carmel vanilla chai latte was a good alternative when mixed with a generous amount of cream and sugar. If only Louis knew, it was probably even more unhealthy than coffee.

I dug into my plate of eggs, stuffed French toast, and sausage. I had a link of sausage speared on the end of my fork when I was struck with a brilliant idea. “You’ll just have to make it up to me.”

Nash was wise enough to look a little suspicious, but Louis was in a rush to make amends, “Anything, sweetheart. Just say the word.”

I sat back, “Well, I was thinking that all this has happened very suddenly. I mean, I barely know either one of you. And you don’t know me, not really.”

“Sure we do,” Louis interrupted.

“Oh yeah? What’s my favorite color?” I challenged him.

“That’s easy,” Nash pulled a banana out of the fruit bowl. “It’s purple.”

Of course, he would think that-- he’d seen my purple bedding when we shared a bedroom at Bleakley house. “Wrong!” I said triumphantly. “Purple was my favorite color when I was thirteen!”

“Okay, point taken,” Louis said. “So what is it that you want, Miss Daphne?”

“Three dates.”

“Dates?” Nash looked disgusted, like I’d said a dirty word.

“Yes. One with you, Nash. One with Louis. And one with the two of you together.”

Nash looked properly offended. “Daphne, I told you I can’t…”

“Look at my head!” I pointed to the lump on my temple. “I think I might have a concussion, Nash!”

“Technically, that was Louis’s fault.” He rubbed the bruise on his own head.

“And these? Look how swollen they are. Do you know how much work I have to do on the computer every day? How am I supposed to type—” I cradled my fingers in one hand like they were a dead bird.

“Alright! Alright, fine!” Nash threw down his banana peels. “Who goes first? Where do you want to go?”

“You go first,” I said, trying not to smile. “And I’m not going to tell you where to go. I want you to show me the real Nashville Turner, a date that reflects who you really are.”

“So what if who I am is a couple of beers on the tailgate of a truck down in the old sandpit on a Saturday night?”

I shrugged, “Well, I’ve never been to a sandpit, so that sounds interesting.”

I turned my attention to Louis. “I hope you can find time.”

Louis looked much more comfortable and confident than Nash. He smiled easily and sipped his coffee. “For you, darling, I have all the time in the world.”

Nash made a disgusted sound.

“What about this group-date?” Louis asked.

My small smile turned into a wide grin. “So glad you asked. The two of you will have to coordinate and cooperate.”

“Daphne–” Nash started to protest again.

“Oh, my chest,” I whined and rubbed my sternum dramatically. “What if you broke my ribs? You could have punctured a lung—”

Louis was chuckling and Nash looked very grumpy as he eyed me up and down, like he didn’t know if he should be seriously concerned or seriously p.issed off. I gave him a sweet, innocent, wide-eyed look.

“Fine!” Nash spat again, and then he scraped back his chair and tossed down his napkin like he was throwing down a gauntlet. “Excuse me, I’ve got an online meeting to attend.” He moved out of the room, as silent as a panther, but with an unsettled energy that seemed to leave the air crackling behind him.

Louis turned to watch him leave. I could see an almost wistful look on his face as Nash disappeared down the hall. Then he turned back to me with a small, sad smile. “Well played, Daphne.”

“Please,” I rolled my eyes as I sliced off a piece of strawberry and cream-cheese stuffed French toast and popped the rich, creamy bread into my mouth. When I had chewed and swallowed and washed it down with a sip of water, I sat back, finally feeling full and satisfied. “I grew up with two older brothers, twin alphas.” I pushed back my chair and stood up with a lazy stretch. “You guys are amateurs.”