3 a long weekend
Most of the guests drove back to town after the fireworks, but of course, Dad invited his old BFF to stay for the weekend. Something about giving him the chance to settle in before he started work on renovating his parents’ old place.
I plan to spend as much time fishing by myself on the lake as I possibly can.
Jax and his girlfriend leave right after breakfast.
He says he has to work, but I think he wants more from his long weekend than being trapped with his family in an old, rickety lake house where he can’t knot his girl any time he wants.
If I had a job as an excuse, I’d be out of here as well. But Dad likes me to be on hand during the summers so I can help him with whatever projects pop up in between his hauls.
Karl and Sarah are getting the kids ready to go to the part of the lake that passes for a beach, while I pack up my tackle box to take to the opposite end, where things are quiet and shady and everyone knows enough to leave me alone for the day.
“You’re going fishing?” Gray stops me to ask.
He’s freshly showered and dressed in the sort of casual lumberjack chic that I know Dad lives for.
Except his shirt is more expensive and cleaner than the old buffalo plaid draped around Dad, and his weathered jeans fit him in a way that makes his legs look thicker than should be realistically possible.
I cannot keep being jealous of everything this man does.
His clothes, for fuck’s sake? I dress like a normal college student in jeans, t-shirts, and hoodies, and that’s fine.
I will never look like this alpha, even if I do present.
And if I did, it wouldn’t look right, because I will always have the weird, nervous energy that I was cursed with at birth.
I’m a squirrel, not a wolf. I’ve made my peace with it.
Mostly.
“Yes, sir,” I say, and he frowns but doesn’t correct me.
Possibly because Dad is standing within ear shot, cleaning up breakfast. Which is also unusual, but his friend’s presence seems to have him on his best behavior.
“Do you mind if I join you?” he asks. “I’d love to see the lake.”
His hands are in his pockets, but he’s leaned back, with effortlessly relaxed posture and a soft expression.
“Um,” I start, no idea how I’m going to finish it.
I can’t tell him no. Dad will lose his shit. But I also can’t let him spoil my sanctum that everyone else at least tacitly acknowledges is mine.
“Sure.”
That’s not the answer I wanted to give him, but what the fuck else am I supposed to do?
As my tiny act of rebellion, I turn and stomp out of the house with the gear, not waiting to see if he’s following. Once I’m twenty feet down the path, though, the smells of the house fade away and I know without a doubt that he’s behind me.
His heavy boots crunch on the loose gravel as his quiet presence hovers in the periphery of awareness. He doesn’t say anything, though, which I appreciate.
By the time we make it to my fishing spot, I feel peaceful. More peaceful than I should, given the circumstances.
When I work myself up to turning around and looking at him, I realize how rude I’ve been.
“I’m sorry. I should have grabbed another pole.”
The alpha shrugs, his hand still in his pockets.
“I didn’t tell you I wanted to fish, just that I wanted to see the lake.”
Weird. There’s a tension settling between us, but like everything else to do with this man, I can’t put my finger on what it is.
I distract myself by getting my line baited and my gear ready, but by the time I’m ready to cast and he still hasn’t said anything, a wave of nervousness hits me. When I look at him again, he’s standing in the same spot with his hands in his pockets.
Watching me. Several feet away, but watching me, not the lake.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
Gray clears his throat and shuffles a little, and it’s the first time I’ve seen him look anything other than effortlessly cool and relaxed since he arrived.
“I actually came out here because I wanted to talk to you,” he says in that rumbling voice, pinning me to the spot. “But it’s… delicate, and I’m not sure how to approach it. I don’t want to overstep.”
For once, my curiosity outpaces my fear, and I wait for him to continue.
“Do you really think that you’re not going to present? Or do you think that you’re going to be a late-blooming alpha, like Frank keeps telling me?”
I freeze. The guilt on his face means he knows how inappropriate this is for conversation between two near-strangers, but asked me anyway. It’s bad enough that Dad never shuts the fuck up about his sons presenting, but hearing someone else bring it up feels like a goddamn violation.
The shock knocks all the trained politeness out of me.
“Are you always this rude to your friend’s kids, or am I somehow special?”
Gray looks down at the ground for a second, his frown deepening, then takes a deep breath before meeting my eyes again.
“I’m sorry. I know this is inappropriate. I promise I’m not trying to be a dick, but I do have a point. I would be grateful if you could answer the question before I explain.”
He’s so hard to read in a lot of ways, but the man oozes sincerity, so I’m struggling to stay as angry as I probably should be.
After a moment I sigh and let myself go with the flow.
“No,” I say, blowing out a breath slowly.
“I mean no, I don’t think I’m going to present as an alpha. I’m 21, I don’t have a hint of an alpha scent or anything else, I’m not small but I’m smaller than the others. People are betas. It’s literally the most common designation, for fuck’s sake. Nobody bats a thousand; not even Dad.
It’s not the end of the world for anyone other than him. I’m fine with it.”
I shrug to hammer the point home, and I find I actually believe what I’m saying. Mostly. More or less. I’m trying.
“Now you answer my question.”
Gray raises his eyebrows at me for a second before casting his mind back and figuring out what I mean with a small chuckle.
“Oh. Um, no. Well, yes. I don’t really have a lot of friends, and the ones I have don’t have children I’ve ever met. So, you’re one of the only children of my friends that I’ve spoken to, and I am being pretty rude, so… Yes. I am normally this rude. But I swear it’s with good intentions.”
I shift my weight, trying to see where he’s going with this but coming up blank.
“I have a very good nose. An exceptional nose, actually, and it’s one of the things that led me to go from the Infantry into some slightly more exclusive units after your dad and I knew each other.”
“That’s an alarmingly vague way to phrase that. You get that, right?”
Gray shakes his head. “Not the point. Just trust me. I have a very good sense of smell, even by alpha standards, and sometimes it’ll be even stronger with specific people. Because of some trick of biology or pheromones; I don’t really know.
The point is that I understand why other people can’t smell anything other than neutral beta on you, because it’s very faint, but you do have something in there.”
What the fuck? No way is this asshole here to dangle the promise of alpha-hood and get my hopes up, after I spent all this time trying to let it go and almost fucking succeeded.
“Tanner, I think you’re going to present very soon, but as an omega.”
The words land but the meaning doesn’t, and I freeze.
“I’m sorry. Not sorry because you’re an omega, because that’s a wonderful thing and you should be proud, but sorry because I know what Frank’s like and it seems like he’s only gotten worse over the years, so I’m sure this puts you in an uncomfortable position.
I know I shouldn’t be the one to tell you, but because of the circumstances, I thought you might be better off with some time to prepare. Maybe soften the ground with your old man; do some research. Something.”
He pauses, empathy clearly written on his face in a way that makes me nauseous.
“I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful. I don’t know much about what it’s like for male omegas, other than that it’s often very hard.”
As soon as I start to process the words, my shock fades away and anger comes steaming in to replace it. It’s not often I get truly pissed, but when I do, I feel out of control, and this is not going to be an exception.
“Is this a joke? Did Jax put you up to this? Did Dad? Because it’s not fucking funny.”
Gray finally takes his hands out of his pockets so he can hold them out between us, his eyebrows raised. His scent goes into overtime, pushing against my skin like he’s consciously trying to calm me with it, but I fight the urge to relax, because this is bullshit.
“This isn’t a joke. I promise, Tanner. I’m being sincere and I’m just trying to help. I wouldn’t tease you about this.”
“How do I know that? I don’t know you! You’re just some stranger who walked in here saying insane, impossible things. This isn’t true. I don’t know what your game is here, but I know you’re an asshole and you need to get the fuck away from me.”
Gray starts to talk again, but I’m not willing to hear it. I snarl at him loudly, something I’ve never really done before, and take the most threatening step forward that I can manage against an alpha who could eat me alive if he wanted to.
Thankfully, he takes a step back, his hands still outstretched.
“I’m sorry, Tanner. I wasn’t trying to upset you. I wanted you to have time to process. I’ll go. But promise me you’ll think about it. Try to prepare, while you still have time. Make a plan in case Frank takes it badly. Be safe.”
His voice wavers a little on the last part, but I can’t figure out why he’s pushing this bit so hard or what his end game is. Either way, it’s bullshit.
“Fuck you. I’m a man. How fucking dare you?”
All of Dad’s words and all of Dad’s anger pour out of my mouth like smoke, and the feeling of it only makes everything worse.
A surge of chaos rises up in me, and I pick up my tackle box to hurl it at him as he keeps backing away. I’m grateful when it misses, but I need him to be very far away from me, right fucking now.
“I’m sorry,” he says one more time before he finally turns and books it back to the house.
This is bullshit. What an asshole. This is BULLSHIT.
It’s the only thing I can think for the rest of the day, and I’m so worked up I force myself to stay out there way later than I normally would.
Long enough to run out of bait and everything else, until I finally wander back to the lake house tired and thirsty, and determined not to say a word to Gray.
As soon as I get back, though, Dad tells me he’s gone. Apparently, he made some polite excuse about wanting to get a jump on his renovations.
Dad looks a little wistful, like he wanted to have more time with his buddy. If I told him what he said, their friendship would be dead, of course. But I’d be more dead.
Metaphorically.
Probably metaphorically.
Dad’s all talk. He wouldn’t actually turn on me like that, I know he loves me, even though I’m a disappointment to him. But it doesn’t matter, because whatever Gray’s plan was it’s not working, and this whole day has been a total waste of time.