Chapter 16 #2
He wasn’t eating proper meals, relying on snacks or straight up skipping meals.
He wasn’t sleeping more than a few hours a night, even if he had to be up for work the next morning.
Dark bags had taken up permanent residence below his eyes.
His cheekbones, which had always been sharp, were starkly prominent now.
The jeans that had once tightly cupped his luscious cheeks sagged loosely, slipping down his hips as he walked.
Night after night, I watched from the woods, helpless, as he’d sit up until three, four, sometimes even five in the morning. It didn’t seem like he wanted to be awake, either. Most of the time he’d snuggle under a blanket, barely paying attention to whatever was on the screen.
I didn’t judge him for his behaviour. Hell, I was guilty of doing the same things.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept more than an hour at a time.
I only ate a full meal if Ma shoved me into a seat at her table and refused to let me leave until my plate was clear.
As for spending time with my friends or doing anything I enjoyed? That simply didn’t happen.
My sole purpose was guarding Reid. Apparently that went hand in hand with worrying about him.
And fuck, was I worried.
It was one thing for me to allow the crushing darkness to envelop me. My body would recover. Shifters could last months on little food or sleep.
But Reid wasn’t a shifter.
I hated that he wasn’t sleeping. I hated that he wasn’t eating properly. I hated that he was isolating himself.
Most of all though, I hated how unhappy Reid was.
It wasn’t him at all. Reid was an older version of the spirited, happy child I’d once known.
He didn’t show me that side of him, but that didn’t mean I didn’t witness it.
His laughter and joy that night in the club with his friends.
How he’d danced and sung with Logan. The gentle teasing he gave Chester in work.
The chatty phone calls he shared with Bryce and Mac.
Since learning of Clyde’s death, all of that happiness seemed to have leached away, and I wasn’t even sure if it was grief.
I thought it was fear. Fear that his past was haunting him. That it might lead to others getting hurt because of him. It had to be. It would explain why Reid was distancing himself from everyone and barely leaving his flat.
I couldn’t stand it.
I’d tried to help. I’d had takeaway anonymously delivered to him on more than one occasion, only for Reid to sniff at it and leave it on the side.
I’d called Logan when Reid cried until three in the morning, asking him to go and offer the comfort he’d reject from me.
I hadn’t expected him to reject it from Logan too.
He hadn’t even got off the sofa, yelling from there for Logan to leave him alone.
He wasn’t opening up to Chester either. Finn’s mate was as worried about Reid as I was.
Neither of us knew how to reach him.
All that seemed to have worked a little was the puzzles. After seeing Reid complete one in a few days, I’d arranged to have another delivered.
Then, when that was done, another.
Over the next couple of weeks, Reid completed eight puzzles.
It wasn’t much, but to me it was as though he’d climbed Everest. Okay, so he was still on the sofa, but he was engaged in something.
I even caught his head bobbing occasionally, a ghost of a smile dancing on his lips when he located a particularly tricky piece.
Christmas and New Year’s were the worst. I’d pushed Logan to invite him to the clan house, even making sure Reid knew I wouldn’t be present.
I’d underestimated his stubbornness.
He hadn’t been alone though. Not entirely. I’d stayed outside for twenty-four hours straight, silently standing guard and ensuring his safety.
It didn’t make up for what I’d done. Nothing would. But for that day, I didn’t run. Not even the perimeter laps we usually took during these shifts. I hadn’t wanted to leave Reid even for the minute that would take. He didn’t know I was close by, but I did.
I didn’t want him to be alone. Not on Christmas.
Not on New Year’s either. I’d taken that shift too, watching him through the window as the clock struck twelve. He hadn’t done anything to celebrate the moment, just continued to watch the true crime documentary he’d settled on.
My only acknowledgement was a silent wish for the man I’d failed. Please let Reid find the happiness he deserves this year.
It wasn’t even just for him. I wouldn’t know happiness again unless Reid did too. Something in me had been rewired that day we first met again in the shop. It was like someone had ripped out everything that was essential for me to function and rearranged it all to centre around Reid.
It was more than that though. A realisation I couldn’t bring myself to name. The knowledge that I’d never felt like this about anyone before.
I couldn’t acknowledge it. Not when I’d spent my life searching for it. It was almost cruel to discover it, only to learn it would never be reciprocated.
My feelings weren’t Reid’s problem. They were mine, and I was the one who’d deal with them.
I just wished he hadn’t bought an industrial sized bottle of lube.
Really, I shouldn’t have begrudged him. It was the only activity that brought a true smile to Reid’s face.
And the only one to torture me.
When Reid had made his off-the-cuff comment about running out of lube while riding his dildo, I hadn’t thought much of it.
Well, that wasn’t strictly true. I’d thought about it often.
Usually with my hand around my cock, wondering how he looked using it.
Would his cheeks flush the way they had that night on the sofa?
Would his lips swell slightly, the pout demanding to be kissed?
Would he moan my name as he came, just as he had when I’d taken him over the edge?
Unfortunately, I knew the answer to that last one.
How? Because just twenty-four hours after we hooked up, I heard it.
It couldn’t have been the first time it had happened while I’d been on guard.
The difference then was that I didn’t know what Reid was doing.
He was simply out of my sight and doing something that was making him breathless.
With all the random stuff he did in his flat on a daily basis, it could’ve been anything.
Besides, it wasn’t like he’d moaned my name before.
But that night, the first when I’d realised what he was doing, he did. It was soft—a mere ripple in the air, almost missed.
Yet it was enough to have my wolf trying to drag me to Reid’s front door. Growling that he obviously wanted us if my name was the one he was crying out.
The depressing truth was that my wolf was wrong. Reid might have wanted me physically, but he didn’t want anything more than that.
He never would.
I hadn’t touched myself that night. And the next, when Reid disappeared into his bedroom and the breathy moans began, I wore noise-cancelling headphones until I was sure he was finished.
I was holding on by a thread. If it broke, I’d say to hell with everything and do what my wolf wanted.
I’d park myself on Reid’s doorstep until he gave me a chance.
Until he ate some food for me and slept for a solid eight hours.
That couldn’t happen for a number of reasons, the top one being that it went against Reid’s wishes.
The thread couldn’t be allowed to break. It was frayed enough as it was—listening to Reid moan my name every night would snap it completely.
So I put my headphones in and wondered what my future would hold. It had to be better than this, right? Me, confined to the shadows, when where I truly wanted to be was within sight. Longing to care for a man who’d never want me. Unable to see any path forward that didn’t centre around Reid.
I didn’t know what scared me more: that my future would be more of this, or that Reid wouldn’t appear in it at all.
No, I did know.
Nothing was more terrifying than the thought of losing Reid from my life. If these snapshots of him were the closest I’d ever get, then I’d find a way to be happy with them.
It’d be worth it to keep him in my world.
Hamish sighed, not turning around. “Ye can come out, Evan. I know yer there.”
I smiled sheepishly as I stepped out of the shadows to join him. “Sorry. You know I can’t stay away for long.”
Through the window of Thistle Do Nicely, I watched Reid hand a bouquet to a customer. Even his work smile was dulled of its previous shine.
“I’m more than capable of keeping Reid safe,” Hamish said, “but I get it.”
He should. We had this conversation every time he was on shift. “This’ll happen for you one day too, Hamish. Your wolf will choose someone, and that’ll be it. Everything will change.”
Hamish snorted. “We don’t have fated mates.”
That was true. We didn’t.
“I don’t think that matters,” I said, my gaze helplessly fixed on Reid’s slumped shoulders. The customer had left now, and Reid was staring aimlessly at the countertop. “We get to choose, but I think that just means our wolf gets to choose.”
“Are ye saying you wouldn’t have picked Reid?”
Hamish’s question sent a jolt through me.
Would I have picked Reid? Knowing he’d never love me in return? That he’d never want to be a part of a clan again? That he’d never accept being my mate?
The answer to all of those questions had been given to me over and over again. It appeared in the gentle curve of his smile. The sound of his laugh. The way his tongue stuck out the side of his mouth when he was concentrating. How he bounced on his toes when he was excited.
It was in the unusual ways his brain worked.
How he was able to focus on multiple things at once.
The intricate questions that preceded a trip down any rabbit hole.
His insatiable desire for knowledge. The fixations he went through that temporarily took over his life.
It was also in the ease with which he went toe to toe with me. How he had zero fear calling me out.
And that wasn’t even taking into account how he’d come apart under my touch.
It didn’t matter that I hadn’t seen any of those things recently. If anything, it just had me yearning to see them again, to help guide Reid out of the darkness and back into the light.
I wasn’t there myself yet, but maybe helping Reid…maybe it’d get me there too.
“I would have picked him,” I said eventually. “Reid might not be my fated mate, but I believe he was always meant to be mine.”
Hamish’s silence was heavy. He knew as well as I did that a happy ending wasn’t on the cards for me and Reid. Or just me, really, ever.
Hopefully Reid would find happiness one day…even if it was with another.
“I’ll go back to the clan lands now,” I lied, stepping back. I wouldn’t be going far. I never did, but I didn’t want to make Hamish think I was questioning his abilities. More than he already did, anyway. “Thanks, Hamish.”
“Anytime, brother. Don’t worry, he’s only got another thirty minutes and then he’ll be heading home.”
I didn’t allow myself another look at Reid, I’d never leave if I did. Instead, I shifted and started to run.
Running was my refuge.