Chapter 6Jules
CHAPTER
SIX
JULES
For the first time in months, after layers of filth have been scrubbed away, I feel like a person again. I’d almost forgotten what I look like when my hair isn’t a greasy, tangled mop and my face is clean. Not that I make a pretty picture with hollow cheeks and dark circles under my eyes.
Gavin must think I’m a mess, especially after I told him all that stuff about my family, and he’s not wrong. I am a mess—homeless; starving, if not for his kindness; on the run. I wish I’d met Gavin under different circumstances. When I wasn’t... me.
If things were different. If I was different...
He’s a good person—not just kind, but easy to talk to. Even if he is an alpha and a predator, I feel safe with him. Plus, he smells really good. In the diner I can smell him despite the mix of scents. In his home, his scent is mixed with his children’s, but stronger and warmer. Like a summer breeze.
I breathe deep, enjoying the smell of him more than I should as I dress in the clothes he left for me.
I find him in the living room. He’s reading on the sofa but looks up with a grin before setting his book to the side. “You look like a whole new person.”
I rub the back of my neck. “Thanks.”
Why does he make me nervous? But not in a bad way. The way his blue eyes run over me has goosebumps peppering my skin and my heart beating faster.
Gavin stands and stretches. He changed at some point, and the sweatpants hang low on his narrow hips as the shirt he’s wearing pulls up, exposing his lower abdomen. I swallow and shove my hands into my pockets. “How about a tour? It’s not much, but since you’ll be calling the place home, you should know what’s what.”
I open my mouth to tell him I don’t want to trouble him. He should relax, read his book after being on his feet all day, but I think I know him well enough by now to know he’ll insist on giving me a tour anyway. “Okay.”
He shows me the guest bathroom, the laundry room just off the kitchen, and points out Altair’s, Callum’s, and his own bedroom before we slip out the back door. There’s a firepit, a porch swing, chairs and a table. A cozy little gathering place for his family. The yard is open, well cared for and massive. It ends some three hundred feet away at a drop-off into the ocean. The view of where the ocean and sky meet is breathtaking.
“I’ll talk to Baz about making you a little nesting ground. Pikas like that, right?” Gavin’s shoulder brushes against mine as he stands beside me.
“Did you google pikas while I was in the shower?” I don’t pull away. The touch is innocent, and the warmth of his body next to mine isn’t unpleasant.
His cheeks turn a soft shade of pink and he looks away, tugging his hair out of the ponytail he usually wears it in. “A little. It’s the ears for me.”
I laugh and rub one of my ears. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”
I know he doesn’t want to hear it, but I need him to understand. Before he gave me food, I was in a really dark place. A few weeks ago, I was more likely to throw myself off the cliff at the edge of his yard than admire its beauty.
Gavin squeezes my elbow but releases me as suddenly as he grabbed me. “Once is enough, Jules.”
I turn to face him. We’re nearly chest to chest, and I notice—not for the first time—how much taller and wider than me he is, but he’s not an imposing figure. Not with his dark hair down and being tugged on by the breeze while he wears an easy smile. “Seriously, Gavin. Thank you. You don’t know how much all of this means to me. If there’s anything I can do...”
He doesn’t expect anything, but I’d still like to return his kindness however I can.
“You’re welcome, Jules.” It’s that simple. I said thank you and he needs nothing else.
I press my palms into my eyes and feel stupid for the way they burn. No one has ever shown me the kindness he has. Even within my family I was only something to be traded away, not a person with thoughts and feelings.
Gavin treats me like a person.
“Hey. Hey. It’s okay.” His voice is soft and soothing, but worried, as he rubs my arms. “Don’t cry. You’re breaking my heart. At least let me give you a hug.”
I nod. He wraps his arms around me and draws me into his solid chest. I press my face into his shoulder and clench his shirt as my eyes overflow. It’s stupid to cry just because someone’s being nice to me, and I want to stop, but I can’t. I sob against him while he rocks me in his arms and coos in my ear. He doesn’t tell me to stop, or calm down, that I’m overreacting or being childish.
“I’m sorry.” I pull back and wipe my nose as my tears slow. There’s a pounding at my temple, and my eyes are sore.
“You don’t have anything to say sorry for.” Gavin’s hand is warm on my back as he tucks me under his chin again. At some point, he moved us to the bench that sits flush against the house. I didn’t notice when he pulled me down, but I’m sitting in his lap now, cradled in his arms. “Life hasn’t been kind to you, and when it is, sometimes that’s a hard thing to deal with.” He brushes his thumb under my eye, catching the last of my tears.
“It means a lot that you’re kind to me, that you treat me like a person,” I whisper as I pluck non-existent lint from his shirt. I should get up but I don’t want to. “I know that sounds dumb but... my family wasn’t always good to me.”
He doesn’t know me but from the moment he stepped out of Strange Brew, he’s been kinder to me than my own parents.
“I will always treat you with the kindness and respect you deserve, Jules. I’m sorry your family didn’t.” His hand slips under the bottom of my shirt, but I don’t think he’s trying to be inappropriate.
I shake my head. “Because I left... they most likely suffered. I’m not sure what... what might’ve happened to them.” I don’t know if they’re alive. I don’t know if I should care if they’re dead because they’re the reason I had to run, but they’re still my parents, and I should care, shouldn’t I? “I have to live with that guilt, so I’m not sure what I deserve.”
The alpha my parents gave me to probably didn’t take my running off well. He’d want revenge—against the burrow he was supposed to protect, against my parents, and against me.
“Happiness, Jules.” Gavin presses his face into my hair, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s breathing me in the same way I am him. “Not guilt. Nothing that has happened is your fault.”
I want to agree, to just believe him, but it’s not that easy. Life is never that easy.
“I want to be happy,” I finally tell him. I don’t think I’ve ever been happy but I want to be. Maybe, with Gavin in my life, I can be.
“It’s a worthy goal to work towards and I might know a good place to start. Trust me?”
I search his face—take in the honesty in his eyes, the curve of his nose and the shape of his mouth. Trusting him is insane, but I do. Maybe one day he’ll prove that’s a mistake but I don’t think he will. He’s too good of a person. “Okay?”
Gavin stands and sets me on my feet. I miss the warmth of his body but don’t say anything as he slips into the house. He returns with a pile of blankets and an assortment of pillows. I watch as he spreads them on the ground and builds a nest big enough for two.
“Not as good as when my boys were boys, but it’s good enough. Come on.” He waves me towards the nest and starts the fire pit before leaving again and returning, this time with a tray of things—marshmallows, chocolate, graham crackers.
“Is this okay?” He sits at the edge of the nest and opens packages.
“It’s great,” I admit after swallowing around the lump in my throat. “I’ve never done anything like this before.” Not with my family, not with the few friends I had in the burrow. There was always something else to do, or someone we didn’t want to catch us doing anything that wasn’t our assigned task.
Gavin slips two marshmallows onto a two-pronged roasting stick. “I spent a lot of long summer nights out here with the boys.”
I frown as my heart squeezes painfully. Is he treating me like a child? Like I’m one of his sons? It’s not a bad thing. Gavin is clearly a good dad but... why am I so disappointed? I don’t want him to treat me like a child, or one of his children.
I shouldn’t want more either.
Gavin’s giving me a lot. I don’t want to be greedy.
“Jules? Is everything okay?”
I open my mouth. Press my lips back together. But... he asked, and I owe him honesty at the very least. “I just... I’m twenty-three. I don’t want to be treated like a child.”
That’s fair, isn’t it?
“Blanket forts and s’mores aren’t reserved for children. Just don’t tell mine we didn’t invite them to the party.” He turns the marshmallows in the fire.
“Sorry. I know. Just—” I don’t know how to explain myself.
“You don’t have to apologize.” There’s a wealth of understanding in Gavin’s voice but I’m not sure how he can understand at all. Somehow, he does. “You’ve been dealing with heavy stuff, and I’m sure the last thing you want is to be treated like a child. This isn’t that. This is just a soft place to land. I promise.”
I cross my arms and rest my chin on my forearms. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”
Gavin leans against me, his shoulder pressing into mine, the heat of his body relaxing the growing tension in my own shoulders. “The shift into adulthood is a funny thing, isn’t it? For the first part of your life someone else is in charge of almost every choice you make. Then suddenly, it’s all on you. You’ve got all this freedom to make your own choices, and sure sometimes you make shit choices, but they’re yours. And it’s a good feeling—knowing the good and the bad, the right or the wrong, you choose.
“All of that freedom and someone comes along trying to put you in a child’s place. Anyone would be uncomfortable and baulk against that, Jules. If you feel like that’s what I’m doing, you’re allowed to say something, to tell me to back off. I’m not going to treat you badly or toss you out if you demand the fair treatment you deserve from your friends.”
My gaze snaps to him. “We’re friends?”
He shrugs as he uses his free hand to gather his long hair and toss it over his shoulder. “I’d like to be. So long as you don’t mind being friends with an old man.”
I almost laugh. I’m not sure how old Gavin is—a lot older than me since he has children my age—but he’s not an old man. He doesn’t look like one, in any case. Instead, I take a shallow breath. “I don’t want you to treat me like a child or one of your children. But I’d like to be friends.”
“Does my friend like s’mores?”
I clench my fingers together and look away. “Never had one.”
When I glance back, his eyes are wide. “What? I read that pikas like to live in burrows at the base of mountains but I didn’t think you actually did.”
I huff and roll my eyes even as I grin. “Not a burrow, but I am from a small mountain town.” More like a village, really. My home is an isolated community, cut off from society. The fact I got out of the village and down the mountain without getting lost or taken back is a miracle. “About as far removed from this place as one can get.”
Gavin shakes his head with a sad hum. “You poor unfortunate soul. At least tell me you know what ice cream is.”
“Everyone knows what ice cream is.” I’m not going to tell him I was never allowed to eat it. That I was never allowed to do a lot of things that most people do without a second thought.
He exhales, his blue eyes dancing as he pulls the marshmallows from the fire. “Just checking.”
I lean into him. “It’s the cold stuff—right?”
Gavin’s laugh is loud and warm as he bumps against me. He passes me a s’more. “Yes—cold as ice. Just like your heart.”
If my heart is cold as ice, Gavin is thawing it, day by day.