Chapter 33 #2
Jackson’s lips twitch. “Do you? Because your track record with that so far has been less than stellar.”
I glare at the beta, even as I silently agree with him. “I know.”
He watches me expectantly, clearly waiting for me to elaborate on what caused my spike of emotions.
I sigh, sliding my glasses off and setting them down on the table so I can rub between my brows.
“It’s a little uncomfortable sitting here while Ambrose is out with Camille.
My alpha is grumbly about it, but it’s manageable.
It’ll get better as we adjust to this new dynamic.
” My words are truthful, even if they’re obscuring the actual source of my frustrations.
“Not to be contrary, but can you really know that it’ll get better?
Because if things go well, Camille will spend more time with Ambrose.
I know alphas and omegas are more instinctually inclined toward polyamory, and we’re not the first pack to have this dynamic, but… I worry about you getting hurt.”
My chest squeezes uncomfortably as I feel the brunt of Jackson’s concerns and care for me pulsing through the bond.
I break eye contact, staring down at his fingers kneading into Dahlia’s soft fur instead.
“I appreciate that. But I promise you, I can handle it. Yes, I’ll be jealous and it won’t always be easy, but I have experience keeping that from ruining relationships.
Jealousy is natural and not the problem.
It’s what you do with those feelings that matters. ”
“You have experience with that? When?”
I jolt, my eyes flashing up to meet Jackson’s.
Fuck. Why did I say that? God, I’m an idiot.
His brow crinkles and I scramble to come up with a convincing lie.
But he’s known me since freshman year of college.
He knows my minimal dating history and lack of experience before we met.
He knows how things went with the other omegas we tried to court, and how me being jealous was never the issue.
Fuck.
“I, uh, I…”
Horror floods through me as Jackson searches my face.
He’s going to put the pieces together.
He’s going to realize I’ve been in love with him for ages.
This is a nightmare. Think of something to say, dammit!
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I flinch, scrambling to pull it out. Jackson watches me, bemused by my jumpy reaction. “It’s Ambrose. Sorry, I’ll be right back.”
He nods. “Sure, man.”
Does he sound suspicious?
I don’t stick around to evaluate his response, hurrying out of the room and up the stairs to the safety of my bedroom. Collapsing in a shaky heap on my bed, I read Ambrose’s text.
Ambrose: I have a bit of a problem that I wanted to run by you.
My panic about Jackson discovering my long-harbored crush gets pushed to the back of my mind as my brain switches to caretaking mode.
Ambrose’s problem, whatever it is, is more important than my small crisis.
He’s keeping his end of the bond closed tonight—another thing we agreed on as a pack when we decided to have Jackson and Ambrose court Camille—so I can’t tell if he’s upset or not.
It might be rude, but I decide to call him rather than texting back. My alpha needs to hear his voice to make sure he’s not in imminent danger.
The phone rings three times before Ambrose picks up.
I don’t give him a chance to say anything before speaking. “Are you okay? Is Camille okay?”
There’s a soft chuckle on the other end and when he speaks, his voice is lowered. “We’re both totally fine, love.”
“Good.” The panic lessens, and I don’t want to examine why it was almost as intense a worry for Camille as it was for my mate. “Everything, uh, going okay?”
“Yes. Really well. I know you didn’t want a lot of details, but, uh…”
“It’s fine,” I say, and let him feel through the bond that it really is.
Huh. I thought I didn’t want to know anything, but my alpha is suddenly eager for every crumb of information Ambrose is willing to give me. He likes thinking about what they’ve been up to.
God, this is all so strange.
“She fell asleep while I was giving her a massage. She’s completely out, like snoring and drooling, and I don’t feel right leaving without saying anything.
But I wanted to check because we didn’t agree ahead of time to me spending the night, and I understand if you’re not ready for that.
I’ll wake her up and say goodbye if that’s the case. ”
There’s a spike of instinctual possessiveness, but it only lasts for a few seconds. On its heels comes appreciation for how considerate Ambrose is, both to me and Camille. Then the memory of how exhausted Camille looked leaving the office earlier.
Not that I was watching her or anything. I just happened to notice.
“Stay with her,” I say firmly, my alpha coming out in my tone.
Ambrose recognizes it immediately. “Oh. Alright. If you’re sure.”
“Yes. I’ll be okay.” A beat passes and more words spill out of my mouth. “Take care of her.”
Another moment of silence hangs between us as Ambrose processes my words and the emotion that flooded my mind, and therefore the bond, as I spoke them. “I will. I love you.”
“I love you, too. I’ll show you whenever you get home tomorrow. Don’t rush.”
We hang up and I close my eyes for a moment, thoughts racing.
What is going on with me? First the stuff with Jackson, then the strange lack of jealousy and my alpha’s need to make sure Camille is okay.
It’s a little terrifying how right it felt to give the order to care for her, and how good it feels to know Ambrose absolutely will. What do I even do with those feelings?
My phone chimes with an incoming text from Jackson.
Jackson: Stop freaking out alone and come downstairs. You can freak out with me and Dolly while we work on our farm.
I groan and shut my eyes, begging him to leave me to wallow on my own.
A flurry of text alerts go off, forcing me to look at them.
Jackson: If you don’t, I’ll do something drastic.
Jackson: I’m serious dude, you’re not dealing with this shit on your own.
Jackson: I’ve got my pickaxe out and I’m standing by the pumpkins.
“Don’t you fucking dare!” I shout, sitting up and racing out of my room.
A loud burst of gleeful laughter echoes up the stairs. And just like that, Jackson’s magic works again. I shove my miasma of emotions and concerns aside and head back down to spend time with my best friend.