22. Jesse
I was fucking walking on air.
Between the incredible sex we’d had on stream the night before—and the fat cheque that came with it, pushing Tara and me’s dream of buying a house way closer to the front of our minds, and the stream we’d planned for next week… It was like I was untouchable.
Glitch didn’t want to watch Tara with some fucking alpha, he wanted to watch her with me . No Charlie needed for fat paydays and strings of praise.
I hadn’t felt this good in forever. Something about the whole experience felt like it’d unlocked something inside of me I hadn’t known about before.
Okay, it’s that I very clearly have an exhibitionism kink, I thought with a laugh as I rolled across the bed to put my feet on the floor. And being dommed in the chat by Tara’s faceless whale.
I got out of bed, earning a displeased meow from Inky in the process, her big green eyes narrowed as I stretched my arms over my head. My muscles were stiff and achy from the night before, protesting as I arched my back.
“Sorry, little buddy,” I whispered. “Go back to sleep.”
Luckily, the under-the-desk stream wouldn’t be for a bit, so I had a little time to recover before I’d need to perform like that again.
Though, I had a feeling it’d be pretty much all I’d think about until then. I couldn’t wait to have Tara’s stream up on the third monitor as I played. To watch her worship me as I fought to focus on playing.
We’d agreed with Glitch that it was a fair enough request that I pay attention to his wants in the SLCK’d chat, given Tara herself would be too busy making sure that I missed every shot I tried to take.
I turned to look at her, curled up into a little ball in the middle of her nest-like bed, dark hair strewn in waves across the collection of purple pillows.
How’d I get so lucky?
Even if we weren’t bonded, it was like just by having her nearer I was calmed. Her scent sharp and yet comforting in a way I’d never experienced with another partner. I hoped that someday she’d want to take that step with me, but… It wasn’t like I was an alpha. I understood if it wasn’t really her priority.
Omegas were drawn to alphas—the physiology of their designations predisposing them to be good sexual matches for a needy omega in heat.
My fingers brushed over the side of her cheek, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear and away from her eyes for a better view of her face.
But that didn’t matter to Tara. I knew it didn’t. These were fake worries bred from her accidental bond and a lifetime of subtle jealousy I had toward Charlie. I hadn’t even really noticed it, a slowly simmering thing that I’d managed to bury in favor of being excited for my friend that his life seemed perpetually easy. Sure, he’d never been popular. But who cared about that when you were a sexy, natural genius with a thick bank account?
That was out the window now.
Sure, it was partially Tara’s fault. She was the one who bit him, after all. But I wasn’t mad so much about the bite—we’d always known that someday an alpha would have to be a part of her life in a more serious way—it was that Charlie had a habit of accidentally always getting the things I wanted.
And that was fucking annoying.
Tara’s face scrunched up, her eyes blinking awake. She was always a bit grumpy when she woke up, given she was absolutely a night owl and any time before noon meant she’d only gotten a few precious hours of sleep. But, to be fair, what self-respecting streamer was a morning person, anyway? It felt like the antithesis of a job where you clocked in after everyone else had eaten dinner.
But, as soon as her pretty brown eyes met mine, her expression evened, lips lifting upwards into a light smile. “Morning, lemon drop,” she said, her voice slurring softly with sleep.
“Good morning, sweetie pie. Want some breakfast?”
“Blueberry pancakes?” she asked hopefully.
“Yeah, I can do that.” I’d been to her apartment enough that I knew my way around the kitchen… Or at least could pretend I did. Luckily for me, Tara didn’t make a habit out of watching me cook so I could open the wrong cabinets as many times as I needed without getting embarrassed.
I pressed a quick kiss against her temple before catching her lips, retreating to pad my way to the kitchen.
Tara was all about having an aesthetic living space and her kitchen was no exception. The white cabinets were builder grade and came with the place, but she’d replaced the cheap silver hardware with black door pulls that complimented the slate grey, nearly black, sparkling countertops. I wasn’t sure what kind of stone they were made of, but I’d always been a fan. They’d even made it onto the house wishlist–though we knew we’d probably have to install them ourselves.
Her kitchen was just as cute as the rest of her place, all of her small appliances—kettle, toaster, stand mixer, and even her espresso machine fitting into the overall purple heavy color palette effortlessly.
Before her, I didn’t realize there were so many shades of any color, much less purple which seemed pretty straightforward. Red plus blue. One step above a primary color. Pretty basic. But, there was a staggering degree of difference. Violet, orchid, mauve, heliotrope–which I often said was closer to pink, but Tara quickly put me in my place about—plum, amethyst, and mulberry to name a few.
I pulled the frozen blueberries from the freezer and took out the pancake mix and powdered sugar from the pantry. My girl loved her sweets, no matter the time of day, and had a particular fondness for a sprinkle on top of her pancakes.
The batter came together quickly with the help of some vanilla, eggs, and milk from the fridge and I folded in the blueberries carefully, making sure not to break them. Butter sizzled in the pan heating on the stove as I scooped out some batter with a measuring cup, dumping it into the middle of the nonstick surface.
I watched as they cooked, dedicated to avoiding another burnt pancake disaster like the one we’d had on our six-month anniversary. They were just barely bubbling and browning on the edges when my phone, forgotten on the counter, buzzed to life.
Charlie - Hey, want to hang out today? Was thinking we could go to Board City?
I was still annoyed at him. Absolutely I was… But I couldn’t help smiling either. We barely ever fought, honestly in living memory I could only recall one time when I’d gone this long without talking to him.
Back in our junior year of high school, he’d spent the entire semester dicking around not doing his term paper for history and I’d been busting my ass on it for weeks. But once the deadline arrived Charlie crammed and wrote the entire thing the night before. He got an A minus, I got a B.
It was catastrophic.
At the time, he drove a beat-up Jeep that made more noise than a fucking elephant, so whenever he pulled onto my street the entire neighborhood knew. He showed up in the middle of the afternoon on Sunday after we hadn’t spoken all weekend, making a goddamn racket for the whole culdesac, and insisted I get into his car.
I tried to tell him to get lost, but the stubborn dick wouldn’t take no for an answer. Eventually, I was corralled into the vehicle and brought to Board City. It’d just opened back then, and we hadn’t had a chance to go.
Sort of the perfect bribe. I never could resist a game store and a board game cafe was even better . All the selection and none of the commitment.
He brought us in, paid, and grabbed a cozy cooperation game off of the shelf. I thought it was silly. We were meant to build a town together and gather as many resources as possible. I’d always loved competition and playing a game where no one won seemed ridiculous.
What was the point of playing without a winner and a loser?
But, strategizing together, being on the same team, and in the end, getting the second-highest score possible in the game had us in good spirits. Not to mention—it gave us time to talk about why I was so upset.
More than anything, I was just sick of trying harder than every alphahole in a five-mile radius of me for a third of the result.
We’d gone a bunch since, especially in school it’d become a bit of a routine for us, but we rarely played co-op games. Mostly, we enjoyed the friendly competition of it all… I had a feeling though, knowing Charlie, that I was about to see a familiar box for a town-building game.
Sentimental dick.
I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that, not yet. It felt like I’d just figured… something out, and while it didn’t fix everything, it felt like it fixed something, but it all still felt fragile as hell and didn’t need Charlie coming in to bulldoze around it.
I needed time to think. Time to figure out what the hell my feelings were here.
The bubbling on the pancakes had begun to slow and I used a heart-shaped purple spatula to flip it, the perfect golden brown color telling me I fucking nailed it.
Top boyfriend status was so back on.
A teetering stack of pancakes later—with only two casualties—and I still hadn’t messaged Charlie back.
I dished up Tara’s with two pancakes, a pat of butter, and powdered sugar on top.
The bottle of syrup waited for her on the counter—I never, in good conscious could add syrup to the top of something already covered in powdered sugar—and like she intrinsically knew breakfast was ready, Tara came around the corner her still wet hair hanging around her shoulders in her OVWatch tank top and sweatpants.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice much clearer and more awake as she leaned up for a quick kiss.
She grabbed forks and the syrup as I collected our plates, sitting at the little breakfast bar. We ate together in comfortable, we’re both way too tired to yap, silence. Tara leaned into my side with a happy hum as she demolished her plate.
My phone buzzed again on the other side of the counter and I leaned across the surface to pull it towards me, sighing at the sight of Charlie’s message.
Charlie - I’ll drag you there if I have to. You know I will.
I couldn’t help the smile the threat brought to my face, but I let it fade quickly. Gaze distant as I chewed at my nail bed, indecision making anxiety fill my chest.
Tara’s hand cradled mine, pulling it away from my gnawing teeth, her concerned eyes searching my face. “What happened?”
I set my phone down, still not answering. Mostly because I had no idea what to say.
“Charlie texted.”
I could tell she was trying to keep her face neutral, her head tilted to the side curiously so that her damp hair slid over her shoulder. I’d told her about our… spat .
God I couldn’t even call it a fight in my head. How pathetic.
“What did he say?”
“He wants to go to Board City.”
It took her a moment to register the name of the cafe, we’d been a couple of times but she always preferred a date where she could be more creative. I figured it wasn’t the worst thing, she was a half-decent painter—out of the mugs we’d made for each other, I’d seriously gotten the nicer of the two. Decorated in little cherries and lemons with hearts intermixed. Mine for her was… purple. And a blotchy, uneven purple at that.
But, Tara being the gracious girl she was, loved it. Counted it as a courting gift like I was some big stupid alpha.
“Oh, I didn’t realize he liked it analog” she teased, trying to keep the tone light to match her suggestively waggling eyebrows.
It worked, and my smile came easily. “He’s not the biggest board game guy. He’ll go, and usually get his ass beat, but this is kind of… what we do.”
“Yeah?” she prompted, waiting for me to continue.
“When we were in high school we got into a fight. It was a small thing all things considered, but we didn’t talk for a week, which was unheard of at the time. We went to the board game cafe mortal enemies—my words, not his—and came out friends again. Though it’s only happened once, it’s the way we make up.”
“That sounds really nice,” Tara said, tracing little soothing circles into the back of my hand. “So why the apprehension, lemon drop?”
I groaned, throwing myself back in my chair. Was it dramatic? Absolutely. But I couldn’t help it. Sometimes a person just needed to be difficult. “It’s… complicated .”
She hummed, giving my hand a little pat. “Let's finish our pancakes then sit on the couch and watch a movie.”
I nodded, digging back into my plate—even if I didn’t feel all that hungry.
The pancake eating gave me time to think, though. Which I figured was probably Tara’s plan anyway. Perceptive little omega always had a suggestion to help me work through my problems without coming off as pushy.
Why was I being apprehensive?
Because Charlie was perfect.
Because Charlie got to have everything I had, including my girlfriend.
Because Charlie didn’t feel that way about me .
And it was fucking annoying.
After all this time watching him refuse to date, I sort of figured that there had to be a reason why. Maybe he just didn’t look at people like that. Or maybe he was so in the closet he couldn’t base the idea of telling Cameo—or in my wildest fantasies, me—that he wanted him.
Even though I’d had several partners over the years, before Tara it was really more flash-in-the-pan types. Burning hot fast before fizzling out for one reason or another, leaving Charlie and I to continue our admittedly co-dependent relationship in peace.
And even though I’d fallen in love first, watching him do the same… Seeing him with someone else? It was more painful than I ever could’ve predicted.
I knew that wasn’t fair, but nothing about this was fair. It wasn’t fair that I had feelings for a stupid alpha who never saw me that way. It wasn’t fair that the same alpha was a scent match for the love of my life. It was incredibly unfair that Tara and I had been so patient about bonding because we wanted to be sure and that she just made that kind of connection with him without discussing it at all.
Even if I was aware that was the heat hormones, it didn’t change the way I felt about it.
Hurt. A little angry. Left out.
Insecure that maybe now that she had an alpha she wouldn’t need me after all and I’d lose both of them because I just couldn’t be born with a stupid knot.
I had to figure something out, I couldn’t just keep letting these things fester. And if they weren’t going to go away on their own—which it didn’t seem like they were, given how often and wildly I swung from being so happy that Tara hadn’t changed at all and being furious that was the case—addressing them was the only way… Eventually .