Chapter 20
Forget about it!
Devyn
The wedding. Heston. Sebastian. Roy. The way my beast was riding my ass. All of this was a flipping hot mess, and I wasn’t sure how to handle it.
But one thing I did know was that I was drawn to Heston in a way I never had been attracted to another person.
Being expected to marry him wasn’t even close to how messed up the situation was.
But we were going to be together, our families demanded it.
Sure, I’d rather be mated, but marriage would work.
If only it were that easy. There were too many pieces that didn’t seem to fit, and that was what was really getting to me. I needed answers to Sebastian’s shenanigans, but more important than that, I needed to see Heston.
Growing up, I dreamed of finding my mate.
And now that I found him, I was so confused.
I didn’t understand these feelings I had for him.
They weren’t lust—or at least not just lust. They weren’t love, although I imagined that they probably could be if given time. They also weren’t friendship—not yet.
Sure, it was the mating call. But also, it had to be more than that. From everything I understood about the pull, it was need and lust based, and this went so much deeper than that.
Or I was overthinking all of it, which honestly was a very real possibility.
I texted Heston and asked what he was up to.
I’m free. What were you thinking? He responded almost immediately. That was a good sign… a great one, even.
Maybe we could talk? In person? I hit send.
Yeah. Okay. But my dad isn’t having the best day. Maybe we could hang out around him?
His words took me aback. I wasn’t opposed to being around his father.
He was my mate’s family, and that made him important to me.
He could probably use the company. But also I really needed to have some time with Heston to have a serious talk about what was going on.
That didn’t seem like a “dad” conversation to me.
He might be able to hang with Dean, he texted. I could take him to the motel because Dean can’t get away.
Great. Let’s meet there and we’ll work out what to do.
When I arrived, Heston was at the front desk, checking someone in. Dean was nowhere around so I guessed he was just helping his friend out. Unless he’d taken on another job to help pay for his dad’s operation. I hoped not. There were only so many hours in the day and he needed sleep.
The customer didn’t have any suitcases, but then again, the first time I was here, I didn’t have a suitcase either.
Maybe he was renting the room for an hour.
Not that I wanted to know what he was doing in his private time.
But wondering about the life of a stranger was easier than trying to put the pieces of our lives together.
The man left, a key jingling in his hand, a furtive smile on his face.
“Hey.” I sort of waved when Heston’s sweet smile called to me.
“Hey,” he said, “is it weird that I… never mind.” He nibbled on his bottom lip. “Is it weird that…?” He wrapped his arms around me, and hugged me.
“You can tell me.” I sniffed him, not caring how odd it might appear to him being that he was human.
“Just that I feel better when I’m around you.
“That’s not weird at all. It’s normal.” Holding back that I was a shifter sucked. Triple sucked, really. He deserved to know what I was. And I would tell him, but not like this, in a sketch motel.
“So what did you want to do?” he asked.
“I was thinking maybe we could forget about all this wedding bullshit for today.” I tossed aside the idea of a serious conversation and just wanted to enjoy being with one another. “Let’s spend time together and get to know each other. But I understand if we need to stay here.”
“No. I’d like that,” he said, and brought me out back to see his father and Dean.
They assured him they’d have fun hanging out and his dad said he might deal with a customer or two.
I was pleased his father was perky enough to be out of the apartment and socializing with someone other than his son.
Looking at the four walls at home must be depressing.
“Leaving the old man to go have a little fun?” It was light-hearted humor. There was no hostility in his voice.
“Yes, something like that.” I shrugged.
I wasn’t sure if his father knew about the wedding or not.
So I didn’t mention it. If Heston wanted to introduce me as his betrothed or whatever the heck it was called when you were getting married because of a legal agreement, then he could do that.
But until then, I’d just be the nice suitor taking out his son.
Dean waved us off and said not to ding up the car. In hindsight, it was laughable how I had been wary of him at first. But he was a good friend to Heston and he genuinely loved my vehicle.
We promised we would be only a phone call away if needed.
I suggested coffee and bowling and the bookstore, all the normal first date kind of places.
We ended up picking a greasy hole-in-the-wall diner a few suburbs over to grab a bite to eat.
It had been a good choice because we were away from people who might know us, mainly Roy and friends, and the prices were cheap.
Neither of us really had a ton of money.
Although from the looks of things, I had more than Heston had, and that was fine. It would all work out.
“These are delicious,” Heston said, dipping his fries into some version of cheese sauce.
It wasn’t quite nacho cheese, but it also wasn’t American.
For all I knew, they just threw a bunch of leftover cheese in there and hoped for the best. Or maybe it was one of those big cans that you get at warehouse stores.
The only reason I cared, was because watching him lick the sauce from his lips was so hot and I wanted to get a bucket full of the stuff just to get another glimpse of his mouth, covered in grease and him licking around it.
“I can think of something more delicious than that,” I said and he started to blush which in turn had me thinking of some of our sexcapades.
“I can as well.” He winked and popped another fry in his mouth.
When we were done, we went for a walk, ignoring the coffee, bowling and bookstore part of the date.
I wanted to show Heston a small gallery.
It wasn’t one that had ever sold any of my paintings, but it had some beautiful pieces on permanent display, done by the owner’s late wife.
They were blurs of color to most people, but to me, they told a story of love, companionship, and intrigue.
“Want to go in?” I asked as we peered in the window.
“Yeah, sure.” He glanced at his jeans and the T-shirt with stains over the nipple. “Am I dressed okay? I’ve never been in an art gallery.”
“Well, they’re not snobs, if that’s what you mean. It’s just an old man, keeping his wife’s dreams alive.”
We went in and looked around, and I showed him the one painting in particular that I adored.
“This one is so beautiful.” He studied it intently, turning his head. “The colors are so intense. It says so much, but also nothing at all.”
He took my hand and intertwined our fingers.
“My wife painted that back in our youth,” the owner came out of the back room. “She made me promise never to sell it before…”
He never finished that sentence, letting the question of before what hang in the air. But I knew. I’d looked her and this place up after the first time I came. She died in childbirth, the baby joining her with the goddess. I couldn’t blame him for not wanting to talk about it.
“It was her wedding present to me so of course I could never sell it.” He beamed with pride, just like he always did but his voice was tinged with sadness.
I never told him I was an artist. I didn’t want to have him think that I loved this painting as a way to get a foot in the door. He and her memory deserved better than that.
“Thank you for letting us see it.” Heston didn’t take his eyes off the painting as he spoke. “It’s… everything.”
And so was Heston. Sure, we had a lot to figure out, but he was my mate and I was his. And seeing him admire this piece as I did… it told me our connection was going to be deeper than anything I’d experienced.
That was if he didn’t freak the fuck out when I showed him my beast.