Chapter Thirty-one
RILEY
The sun was higher in the sky, slanting through the windows and filling the room with light and shadows. Riley had twisted on the sofa, one knee drawn up, his back warm where sunlight touched it, his gaze fixed on Jason.
They hadn’t been able to stop looking at each other, even without speaking. It was like they both needed time to let the new reality between them settle, cautious, careful, but solid.
A hurried knock on the door was immediately followed by Tristan poking his head in. “I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes everywhere except on them, “but I really need my charger. My battery’s dead, and I have a paper, and I—”
“It’s fine, Tristan,” Jason said.
“Thanks.” Tristan rushed over, almost wiping out in his socks on the wooden floor. “Sorry again,” he mumbled, bolting with his charger in hand. He never once looked in their direction. Like he was trying to be subtle or sensitive or something.
Jason turned back to Riley, his lips lifting slightly at the corners, but Riley caught the way his hands tightened, like he needed reassurance. Everything between them was still new and fragile, and after the interruption, perhaps Jason wasn’t sure.
“Where were we?” Riley murmured, and was rewarded by the brightening smile on Jason’s face.
“We could always move this to my room,” Jason suggested. “Less chance of being interrupted. Because I’ll bet you anything that Bryce will be counting the seconds until he can get in here and find out what’s going on.”
“Sure.” It sounded like a good idea, moving where they’d be assured of privacy. “I know you said pack is family, but I’m beginning to realize it must be like having a bunch of nosy brothers.”
“Pretty much,” Jason agreed. “But it’s more than that, too. Something binds us to one another, makes us stronger.” He hesitated, then met Riley’s gaze. “Like I feel when I’m with you, only different.”
Riley’s breath caught. “Yeah,” he said, his voice soft. “Before you, something wasn’t right. Something was missing, but I didn’t even know it.”
Jason’s smile was soft and happy as he stood up. So very happy. Riley thought he could spend the rest of his life basking in the light of that smile, but the part of him that made him want to be a reporter still needed to understand.
“A pack’s even more than a family, then? At least, more than a human family is?”
Jason nodded as he stood slowly, then put his hand briefly to his forehead.
“You okay?” Riley asked, instinctively reaching for him.
“Just my head. Still hurts.” Jason dropped his hand and shot Riley a lopsided grin. “Look, it’s better if you say non-shifter rather than human. Because—”
“Because saying ‘human’ makes it sound like you’re not,” Riley said, wincing. “God. I didn’t even think of that.”
Jason bumped his shoulder as they headed for the door. “You’ll get the hang of it.”
Riley hoped so. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get the hang of meeting Matt Urban’s gaze, though. Urban and Jesse were in the kitchen, having coffee, and it felt as if Urban’s green eyes could see right to Riley’s soul.
“We’re just—” Jason gestured toward the door before taking Riley’s hand in his and tugging him in that direction.
Urban nodded and looked back at his coffee, and Riley could breathe again. Maybe it hadn’t been approval, but it had been permission, and that was so much more than he could have hoped for.
As he walked with Jason across the yard, for the first time it occurred to him to wonder what happened next.
What would he do for a job? He had to be with Jason, and if that meant cleaning public restrooms with a toothbrush to stay in Elk Ridge, so be it.
But he really, really hoped there’d be a better job available than that.
It almost made him laugh—the thought of walking into his father’s country club, introducing his shifter boyfriend and casually mentioning that he cleaned other people’s shit for a living.
But even as the thought formed, it felt hollow.
He was still measuring his decisions against his father’s judgment. Well, not anymore. This was his life.
It wouldn’t be quite that easy to let go, he knew, but he was going to try. Because Jason deserved every good thing in the world, and he deserved Riley to be a better person than the screwed-up schemer who was always trying to get ahead to impress his father.
And he wasn’t doing it just for Jason. He was doing it for himself.
* * *
The so-called bunkhouse looked basic from outside, but Jason’s bedroom was surprisingly comfortable.
A queen bed took up much of the space, there were damask drapes at the window, and a large armchair was covered with cushions.
He wasn’t surprised to see wolf hair on the fabric, because every dog he’d ever known would have loved to curl up in that chair and have a nap.
Wolves couldn’t be that different from their canine cousins.
Bookshelves ran along one wall, containing a few paperbacks and some leaves in resin.
But before Riley could indulge his curiosity and inspect further, Jason sat down on the bed, suddenly enough to draw Riley’s attention.
He didn’t like what he saw. Jason was pale, his eyes squinting against the light.
As Riley moved toward him, he dropped his head into his hands.
The sharp stab of protectiveness in Riley’s chest startled him almost as much as seeing Jason pale and unsteady. He crouched in front of Jason, placing his hands on Jason’s thighs. “What’s wrong?”
“Head hurts,” Jason said, his words bitten off. “Too bright.”
Damn it. When they’d crossed the yard, the sun had glared enough for Riley to rue not having his shades, and he didn’t have a head injury.
“Have you got painkillers? I’ll get you one.” Assuming shifters’ biology allowed them to take that sort of drug.
“Kitchen,” Jason said, dropping his head into his hands.
Riley rose to his feet, pressed a kiss to Jason’s curls on the side of his head Lennox hadn’t bashed, and ran for the kitchen.
Matt was already on his feet as Riley burst through the door, but Riley didn’t have time to worry about the fact he’d obviously been heard coming. “Jason needs a painkiller,” he said, gasping more than he should from a quick sprint. He’d gotten out of shape during his time here of doing nothing.
“First aid kit’s in the cabinet,” Urban said, nodding toward the cabinet in question. “What he really needs is more sleep.”
He did? Riley glanced up questioningly from where he’d yanked the first aid kit down from its shelf, the metal cool against his shaking fingers.
“That’s how we heal,” Urban added.
The thoughts Riley had entertained when he’d first seen Jason’s big bed disappeared entirely.
All he wanted was for Jason to be well again.
He took advantage of having Urban’s attention to check that the pills he’d pulled out would be okay for Jason.
They probably wouldn’t be in a shifters’ first aid kit if they weren’t, but he wasn’t going to take any chances.
Satisfied on that point, he strode to the door without another glance at Urban. His focus had narrowed until he was concentrated only on his mate. What it meant that he’d thought the word without hesitation—well, he’d figure that out later. Right now, there was only one place he wanted to be.
JASON
Jason stirred, stretching slightly. He didn’t want to open his eyes. He wanted to stay in this delicious moment, caught between wakefulness and sleep, where everything was perfect.
Warm arms were wrapped around him, holding him close. Slowly, memory threaded back, and he blinked his eyes open.
Riley was holding him, smiling at him, a softness in his eyes that Jason fell into. He reached up to Riley’s cheek, and Riley nuzzled against the palm of his hand. It was a magical moment, and Jason wanted this to last forever, instead.
Riley eventually broke it. He pressed his lips softly against Jason’s forehead. “How’re you feeling?”
Jason stretched cautiously, relieved to find that the stabbing pain in his head had subsided. His leg only ached slightly, a mere memory of a wound.
“I’m fine,” he said honestly. “What time is it?”
Riley reached for his phone, giving Jason the opportunity to study him unnoticed.
Everything about Riley stole his breath away.
He was still the stunning guy who’d practically knocked Jason off his feet when he’d strolled into the diner, confidence and arrogance seeping from every pore, but he was so much more than that.
There remained something sharp about him, but there was something softer, too.
As if he were no longer holding himself braced against the world.
“Love you,” he murmured.
Riley’s eyes filled with joy, and he cupped Jason’s jaw in his hand, his lips covering Jason’s.
Jason opened under his mouth, and the sleepy, languorous nature of their kiss changed as Riley’s tongue touched his.
He shivered at the promise of it, already hardening at the anticipation, almost too much to bear.
He’d melted by the time Riley gently rolled them over, sweet and soft, to lie on top of him as they kissed.
No dish that had ever left Jason’s kitchen tasted as good as Riley did. Jason was addicted to his mouth.
They rocked against each other as they kissed, and then Riley’s long-fingered, clever hands were working on the fastening of Jason’s jeans and underwear, until his hand curved so flawlessly around Jason’s desperate cock, it was as if he were made for it.
Just a few strokes, the perfect grip, and Jason was moaning into Riley’s mouth as he pulsed out his pleasure, floating under Riley’s weight.