Page 10 of Cold Ignition

“You drive?” Rangi’s voice—low, direct. No wasted words.

Keanu had shrugged. “Sometimes.”

The memory made him huff a quiet breath, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his mouth. Understatement of the century.

He crossed to the workbench and grabbed a bottle of water, twisting the cap off before taking a long drink. The cold slid down his throat, cutting through the heat clinging to his skin.

Alexios had been different. Harder to pin down. Where Rangi was grounded, Alexios was ... fluid.

Controlled, but in a way that suggested the control was a choice, not a necessity. Like he could tilt the room if he felt like it—and might, just to see what happened.

He carried himself like a man who knew exactly the effect he had and enjoyed it. He had sharp eyes and an easy confidence. That crooked smile lingered long enough to make you wonder what he wasn’t saying.

But Alexios hadn’t been performing.

He’d been watching. Watching Keanu. Not with suspicion. Not with challenge. But an open curiosity.

Like he’d already worked something out and was waiting to see if Keanu would catch up.

He set the bottle down harder than he meant to, dragging a hand through his hair.

It didn’t matter. They were a closed circuit.

Whatever existed between Rangi and Alexios—it wasn’t fragile, it wasn’t casual, and it sure as hell wasn’t something a third man just wandered into because of a spark of curiosity and a handful of looks across a parking lot.

Keanu knew better than that.

Knew the difference between interest ... and territory that wasn’t his.

Even if some part of him—quiet, persistent—had clocked the way Rangi’s steadiness pulled at him...

And the way Alexios’s sharp, knowing gaze had lingered a fraction too long...

Didn’t change the facts.

They were together.

And he had no place in it.

Keanu exhaled slowly, rolling the tension out of his shoulders as he reached for another tool.

Didn’t matter.

The mission was finished.

Life moved on.

That was the rule.

The sound of boots approaching across the concrete pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Jesus, Palani," Drew called from the front entrance to the bus. "You building a house in there or starting a mobile hotel?"

Keanu glanced over his shoulder.

Tane stood with his hands on his hips, grease smeared across one forearm, and a grin stretching across his face.

Behind him, Victor Dane filled most of the doorway like a silent wall of muscle. The Greek’s dark eyes moved slowly across the bus interior, taking in the layout with quiet interest.