Chapter 2
2
HUNTER
Something’s wrong with Donovan.
And I mean more than usual.
I’m cloud fucking nine right now, and he’s seriously trying to ruin the vibe.
I just knotted my girl, and he’s acting like someone fucking died.
“You need to get your shit together,” I snap at him. April is still asleep with Liam while I sit at the kitchen island and scarf down scrambled eggs. Donovan leans against the counter, his eyes narrowed.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, crossing his arms.
“Yes, the fuck you do.” I wave my hand, motioning to his stupid, solemn face. “You’ve been acting weird since her Heat. You basically left us to care for her, and she knows something’s up.”
His lips purse into a thin line. “She was fine with just you two.”
My fork clatters onto my plate with a clang. “In case you forgot, we’re a pack! She sure as shit didn’t forget.”
But his brow stays furrowed. “And what exactly did she say?”
“She wants to know what your problem is, the same way I do. What the fuck is going on?”
Donovan stays silent.
“Don’t ruin this for us,” I growl. “I swear to fuck, if you ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to us, I’ll kill you. I mean it. You’re supposed to be head of the pack. Act like it.”
That wakes him up.
A growl sounds in his throat, stronger than mine, as he steps forward. “Did you ever fucking think,” he hisses, “that maybe we’re not the best option for her?”
I frown. “What the fu?—”
“She doesn’t even know what she wants. All of this is still under contract, in case you forgot.” He leans over the island, looming over me, and I bare my teeth.
“Fuck the contract,” I hiss, standing and pushing my stool aside. “You’re full of shit. You know this isn’t about it anymore. You know she’s more than that.”
“She’s a traumatized Omega that’s clinging to the men that make her feel normal.”
There’s no emotion behind his voice, just emptiness.
I see red.
My skin burns with fury, and my fists itch to connect with his face.
I’m back in those fights in dirty basements, ready to beat the shit out of someone.
This isn’t the Donovan I know.
“Say that about her one more time,” I warn, standing toe to toe with him. “And I’ll knock your teeth out.”
“Uh, guys?” a nervous voice calls.
We both turn to see Liam standing in the entryway, his eyes wide. “Everything okay?”
Donovan hesitates, and I take the opportunity to shove him. He barely stumbles, but the look in his eyes has gone from empty to murderous.
“Get your shit together,” I hiss at him before turning to head out of the kitchen, leaving a bewildered and concerned Liam behind.
I want some time with my girl.
April’s door is cracked, never shut.
Never locked.
I learned that shit the hard way, and I wonder what Donovan would do if I just removed all the doors from the house.
My girl doesn’t like doors, so I don’t fuck with them either now.
Though it might make for an awkward bathroom situation…
I knock on the cracked door, and she answers with a “come in.”
I swing the door the rest of the way open and take her in.
Yes, it’s only been a few hours since I’ve seen her, but it feels like ages.
She’s dressed in jeans and a black top, and her hair is pulled into a messy bun as she sits on the bed, reading.
My cock twitches.
“What are you up to, gorgeous?” I ask, and she snorts and rolls her eyes.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the pet names,” she murmurs. “You know you don’t have to use those, right?”
The bed dips with my weight as I join her, the urge to undo that bun and fist my hand in her hair overwhelming me. “Which ones? Baby, sweetheart, gorgeous…I’m sure I could add a few more,” I smirk, and her face flushes a delicious pink. With her hair up, her mating gland is on display, and I wonder how bad the consequences would be if I just bit her now.
Donovan would have to deal with it. Liam would be ecstatic, and I just know she would love it, too?—
“Did you come in here to stare at me, or was there something you wanted?” She cocks an eyebrow, and I scowl at her.
“Smartass,” I quip, reaching up to tug at that tempting bun. She jerks at my touch, and I grin wickedly. “No, there is something I want.”
“And what’s that?”
Besides tying you to me forever? Not much.
“I’m here to ask you on a date,” I clarify, the grin not leaving my face.
I’m giddy.
But April raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “A date,” she repeats.
“Yes, sweetheart. A date. An outing.”
“Hmm,” she chews her lip. “You know you don’t have to?—”
“You have two options. Either you come with me willingly, or I carry you over my shoulder.”
I knew she would say something like you don’t have to do this for me .
And too bad for her, because I want to do everything for her.
One day, she’ll accept it.
But if I have to carry her through our dates kicking and screaming in the meantime, so be it.
“You wouldn’t dare.” She narrows her eyes, and my grin grows wider.
“Fucking try me, baby.”
She huffs and rolls her eyes playfully. “Well, if I have no other choice, then I guess I’ll go.”
I kiss pull her in by her bun and kiss her, hard, until we both pull away breathless. “Damn right, you don’t. Get ready in half an hour, baby. I’m stealing you away for myself the rest of the day.”
She flashes me a smile and nods, and I reluctantly leave her in the bedroom to grab the supplies we need.
The studio will have most of them, but my sketchbooks are here.
Liam finds me in my room. “Where are you going?” he asks, watching as I hunt for them.
My room couldn’t be more different from Liam’s or Donovan’s—while theirs are tidy, mine is more of organized chaos. There is an L-shaped desk in the corner with multiple monitors, along with a specialty gaming headset and controller. Shelves of board games and books line the walls. Art supplies are in the other corner, along with a desk I use just for sketching.
It’s clean, but a bit cluttered.
“To the studio,” I reply. “She hasn’t seen it, and we don’t use it enough. I was figuring maybe?—”
“We could set up a space for her,” Liam answers. “I have an extra easel there, too, along with paints. She can have whatever she wants.”
I turn to see him in the doorway, his face carefully blank. “You can’t come on our date, Liam.”
He scoffs. “I know that.” But the flush on his face gives him away.
I raise an eyebrow. “Do you?”
“Of course. It was a good idea to take her to the studio. I just wish I thought of it first.”
“Aww.” I clap him on the shoulder as he steps aside for me. “You’ll think of something. Don’t worry. You’re still her favorite, anyway.”
It’s true. Liam and April have a connection that I can’t describe. It’s little things, like when Liam takes her hand to comfort her. He senses her anxiety quicker than I can.
And though Liam deserves it—he’s the nicest motherfucker I know—I can’t help but be a bit jealous.
“I’m not her favorite,” he mumbles, even though there’s a shit-eating grin on his face.
I scoff. “Yeah, you are. Don’t gloat, dick.”
“Also, before you leave…what happened downstairs with Donovan?”
I stop in the hallway and turn to Liam. “Honestly? I think he’s fucking falling harder than we have, and he can’t handle it.”
Liam’s smile fades and his lips form into a thin line. “That sounds about right.”
“Maybe you can talk some sense into him. I don’t want him to fuck this up for us, but every time I bring it up, he uses the contract as an excuse.”
Liam scoffs. “Yeah, he can be a real fucking idiot,” he grumbles.
I laugh. “Coming from you, that would mean a lot.”
I call Donovan a fucking idiot every day.
But coming from Liam, the peacemaker?
Maybe, just maybe, Donovan would listen.
I feel slightly bad for leaving Liam alone with him while he’s more insufferable than usual, but when I head downstairs and find April waiting for me in the foyer, the guilt dissipates.
I have my girl to myself, and I’m going to treat her like the fucking princess she is.
“Holy shit,” she breathes as we enter the studio, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Yeah, it’s one of the first things we built when Axton went public,” I tell her, closing the door after April gives me the okay to do it. “It’s one of my favorite places to be.”
That, and wherever she is, but that might make me sound a bit too obsessed.
The studio sits on the hills of Stone County, surrounded by redwood trees. Floor to ceiling windows give a glorious view of the homes in the distance, and at night, it’s breathtaking. The slanted ceilings have skylights that let sunlight or moonlight trickle in.
I fucking love it here.
“I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” April breathes. She looks to the far end of the studio, where a set of steps leads to a loft. “Is there a bed up there?”
I nod. “There is. And a bathroom further down. Basically, everything you need is here, as long as you bring snacks.”
“And I take it you brought snacks?”
“Of course. I’m always prepared when it comes to you, baby.”
She smacks my arm playfully and smiles. “Of course you are.”
I watch her take in the area, her eyes falling to the easels that face the view of the hills. “This is remarkable,” she murmurs. “But I thought Liam was the one that painted and you and Donovan sketch?”
“Liam is the big painter.” I take a step toward her, following her gaze out the windows. “But sometimes painting is a good release for me, too. I just come here to get away from everything and just create.”
“I would kill for a place like this,” she murmurs. “But for cooking and baking.”
“A private kitchen in the mountains?” I tease, and she looks at me, her vanilla scent sweetening with honey. Her eyes fall to my lips, then she speaks.
“I have daydreams sometimes,” she murmurs. “And I think they’re so stupid that I don’t even tell my best friend about them.”
“Nothing that you dream about could be stupid,” I say, taking a step closer.
She worries her lip and shakes her head, chuckling. “Yeah. Sure.” She turns her gaze back out the windows, a shadow crossing her features.
I’m ready to listen. I’m ready to hang on to every word she tells me. Any scrap of any fucking thing she wants to give me.
“When I was in that room…” her voice trails off, and her gaze stays fixated on the hills in the distance. “…the light in the room didn’t work. There were no windows. It was just darkness, all the time.”
I swallow. This is the most detail she’s given me since her panic attack at her house when I locked a door.
“I thought I was going to die there,” she continues, her voice devoid of emotion. “I accepted it.”
My chest aches.
“So, I started to daydream when I couldn’t sleep. I would be somewhere else, not in that filthy room with no light. I was in a bright kitchen, baking for my mom and friends. I was always there. I dreamed it up. A place with light; a warm kitchen with the sweetest scents.” She turns to me with a frown. “And don’t tell me that it doesn’t sound stupid. Dreaming about a fucking kitchen to keep myself sane? Dissociating, so I can bake cookies? How do you begin to explain that to someone?”
“The way you did to me,” I tell her gently.
She shakes her head. “I dreamed up somewhere to go where I was safe. And that place was in a kitchen with my family,” she says bitterly.
I frown. “Why do you judge yourself for that, baby?” I ask her softly. “You went to the safest place in your mind you could go.”
She looks at me, bewildered. “How do you not think that’s immature or childish?”
“Who the fuck am I to judge your coping mechanisms?” I stare at her with my head cocked. “Baby…you went through fucking hell, and you survived it. You think I’m going to look at you differently for that? If anything, I admire you.”
But I can tell she doesn’t believe me. “I could have done more. Been better.”
I frown. “Could have done more how?”
“I don’t know,” she answers softly, wringing her hands and looking down. “I could have come back better.”
Words fail me. “Baby, what the fuck?”
Good one, idiot.
“I don’t…” her voice wavers slightly, and I want to scoop her into my arms. “You would have liked me better if you met me before this.”
“That’s not fucking possible,” I promise her, reaching out to cup her cheek. “You are perfect .”
She raises an eyebrow in disbelief.
“Perfect for me,” I amend, because I know she’ll never believe me otherwise.
But she is. That’s the most frustrating part.
“I know,” I breathe, my lips inches from hers, “that I can’t make you see yourself the way I see you. But holy fuck, baby…you’re everything . Everything I could fucking want.”
She doesn’t believe me. It’s in her eyes, the way she gazes at me sadly. “Donovan would have liked me better,” she whispers.
A low growl sounds in my throat.
Fucking Donovan. The bane of my existence, the infuriating best friend that needs to be chucked off a cliff.
Who is now making April question her self worth and how much we mean to her.
What a fucking mess.
So, I do the only thing I can think to do.
I kiss her.
I pour everything I have into that fucking kiss. I taste the seam of her lips, licking gently until she parts her mouth. She whimpers, moaning on my tongue, and when I pull back, both of us are breathing heavily.
“How do you feel now?” I ask her, panting against her lips.
She swallows. “I’m feeling a lot,” she breathes. “I’m not sure I can put everything into words.”
Ah. That I can work with.
I press a kiss to her forehead and step back. “Think you can paint it?”
A small smile spreads across her face.