25. Dean
CHAPTER 25
Dean
Landon throws his head back with another laugh at something Dee says, and I hide behind my beer bottle, trying to force a smile. Normally, she’s hilarious, and her antics would pull me in, but after everything that happened with Chad in my car, it’s all I can think about. The way his body responded to mine, the hesitation in his eyes—he brushed me off because of fear, not because he didn’t want me. I can feel it all the way down into my gut.
Dee’s voice cuts through my thoughts, her Southern drawl sharp and playful. “Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit, Landon! You just winked so hard at that girl, I thought your face was gonna stick that way!”
Landon grins, his shoulders shaking with another laugh. He leans in closer, teasing her back. “If you’re lucky, maybe it will. Then you’ll be stuck with me.”
She swats at him, half-amused, half-flustered. “Please, you’re more trouble than a screen door on a submarine, and that’s sayin’ something!”
I can't help the small grin that cracks at her absurdity, but my mind drifts back. To Chad. To Lakelyn. To the weight of everything unsaid between us.
We belong together. I can feel it in my gut. The three of us—Lakelyn, him, and me. And if that’s the case, I need to find a way to bring it up to Landon. I need to ask him to court his sister, because that’s what I’ll be doing.
My heart rate picks up at just the idea of the two of them as my pack. Me. The alpha that never wanted a pack, that was convinced his scent match rejected him because he didn’t want me. I take another swig of the beer to avoid entering the conversation. The memories of the past look different tonight, and I let them drag me back.
His lips crash against mine, and I lose it—completely. His taste floods my mouth, his scent wrapping around me, sinking into my skin, branding itself on my soul. I can’t breathe, can’t think—just him. The months of holding back, biting my tongue, stopping myself from crossing that line, they dissolve in an instant. Gone. It’s like something inside me snaps, unleashing a force I don’t know how to control. A growl rips from my chest, so raw it startles even me, but I’m too far gone to care.
I slam him against the fence, harder than I mean to, but I need to feel him, need him pinned beneath me, boxed in. He’s mine. He’s been mine all along, and I’m done waiting for him to figure that out. His whimper cuts through the haze, high and soft, and it sends a shock of pure electricity through me. My body presses harder, grinding against him, trying to ease the pressure that’s been building for months. My skin burns, desperate for friction, for release.
His fingers go to my shorts, freeing my heated skin to the cool evening air. Then his fingers wrap around me, and I see stars. My knot starts to swell, and the need to claim him in every single way possible grows with it.
Everything about him—his scent, his heat, the way he trembles beneath me—it drives me out of my mind. My teeth ache, an unfamiliar hunger clawing at me. I don’t know what I’m doing, don’t understand what’s happening, but all I can think about is marking him, claiming him. My mouth is at his throat before I even realize it, my lips grazing his skin. His pulse races under my tongue, and the need to sink my teeth in is overwhelming.
He gasps my name, barely more than a whisper, but it’s lost to the storm in my head. I’m seconds from biting down, from making him mine forever, when rough hands yank me backward.
“What the hell are you doing?” my dad’s voice booms, shaking through the fog, but I barely register it. I thrash, still reaching for him, my eyes wild, my instincts screaming. I need him.
Two betas pull me back, gripping my arms hard enough to bruise. “Let me go!” I snarl, fighting them with everything I have, but their hold is too strong. My heart pounds in my chest, rage and desperation flooding every nerve. I can’t lose him, not now. Not when I was so close.
I catch one last glimpse of him against the fence, his wide eyes staring back at me—confused, scared, needy—and then I’m dragged away.
“Dean, you okay, man?” Landon asks, lifting a brow at me.
I blink, realizing I missed whatever he just said. “Yeah, yeah,” I mumble, taking another sip, trying to hide the flush creeping up my neck. “Just... thinking.”
“Oh, I know that look on your face,” Dee says. “Ally got that look while she was falling in love.”
I blink hard, trying to shake off the memory, the intensity of it still buzzing under my skin like a live wire. Falling in love? Dee’s words hit me like a slap, but I smother the reaction, taking another long pull from my beer. My mind scrambles to find an anchor, anything to ground me and pull me out of the fog of those old memories, but her words dig in. I know exactly what she’s talking about. And it’s true.
“Ally’s head over heels, huh?” I say, forcing a teasing grin that feels fake even to me. I lean back in my chair, making a show of stretching like I’m just relaxing. Landon’s gaze flicks between us, the corner of his mouth twitching like he knows something’s up but doesn’t quite care enough to press.
Dee, though? She narrows her eyes, cocking her head to the side. “Yep, and you’ve got the same look. Don’t try to deny it. That’s the ‘I’m thinking about someone special’ face.” She tosses a fry in Landon’s direction and giggles when he catches it midair, like this is all just fun for her. “Cheese on a cracker, Dean, just admit it. You’re smitten.”
I laugh, but it’s too tight, too controlled. “You’re nuts. Not everything’s about falling in love, Dee.”
“Maybe not,” she says, raising her hands in surrender, but there’s a twinkle in her eyes. “But you can’t fool me. You’re thinking about someone .”
I’m not sure what to say to that, so I just shrug, playing it off. “I think about a lot of things. Not my fault you all jump to conclusions.”
“Uh-huh,” she says, clearly not buying it. But she drops it, and for a split second, I let out a breath, thinking I’m in the clear. Then she pipes up again. “Just saying, whoever’s got your head in a twist, you should make a move before you end up kicking yourself.”
Landon chuckles, tossing another fry at her. “Dee’s right, for once.” He grins at her, dodging her swat. “Go after it, man.”
I grunt, more to dismiss the topic than anything. If only it were that simple. But the thought of Chad, of Lakelyn—hell, of them both—slips back in, stubbornly refusing to let go. My pack. The words ring in my ears, and I hate how much truth is behind them. I’m falling, hard and fast, and as much as I try to shove it away, it’s not going anywhere.
Still, I’m not about to admit it. Not to Dee. Not to anyone.
“Seriously,” I say, slapping the table, “how’d we get from talking about fries to love advice? What’s next, a therapy session?” I give them both an exaggerated eye roll. “I’m good, trust me.”
Dee laughs, shaking her head. “Okay, okay, but remember I told you so.” She turns back to Landon, throwing out one of her signature sayings. “I’m just the fly on the donut, man, just watching the whole thing.”
Landon snorts. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Maybe not to you,” Dee shoots back, grinning, “but it does to me. Dean’ll get it soon enough.”
I shake my head, chuckling, trying to ignore the way my chest tightens. I’m already getting it.
Mason drops into the chair next to mine, casual as ever, but something shifts in the air the moment he sits down. I catch the faint scent of him— and something else. My senses flare before I can stop myself, my grip tightening on the bottle in my hand.
It’s subtle, but undeniable. Blueberries and tangy papaya and lime. Chad. Lakelyn. Both of them cling to Mason like he’s been with them just moments ago. The scent hits me like a slap, and my pulse quickens.
What the hell?
I glance over at him, my jaw tightening instinctively. “Can you do something about your sister, man?” I throw out, hoping the jab will distract me from the sudden swirl of jealousy knotting in my gut. The possessive urge to find them both and hide them away.
Mason grins, leaning back in his chair. “She’s a force of nature, what can I say?” His eyes flick to Dee, then back to me, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. But I can still smell them on him, and it’s driving me nuts. Mine. Every part of me shouts. My pack.
I try to keep my voice casual, but the words slip out before I can stop them. “Been hanging out with Chad and Lakelyn?”
Mason quirks a brow, his expression carefully neutral. “Yeah, why? You jealous?”
The question’s meant to be playful, but something sharp underlies it. I narrow my eyes, forcing a laugh that sounds more like a bark. “Jealous? Of you?” I snort, leaning back in my chair, but my chest feels tight, and my heart’s beating too damn fast. “Nah, I’m just wondering what you’re up to. You know how Chad is.”
Mason’s eyes flash, and I can tell my words don’t sit right with him. Hell, they don’t sit right with me either. Something unreadable flickers across his face, his casual expression tightening for just a second.
“Yeah, I do. I know exactly who Chad is.” His tone drops, measured and deliberate, and it makes me sit up straighter. He’s not just throwing that out there. There’s more to this, and suddenly, I feel like I’m missing a piece of the puzzle.
“And he isn’t what you or I thought he was,” Mason adds, his voice quieter but firm.
My heart does a weird flip in my chest. I force a smirk, trying to brush off the sudden weight pressing in on me. “Is that right?” I say, leaning back in my chair like I’m still in control of the conversation, but the truth is, I’m anything but.
The jealousy creeping up inside me tightens its grip. He’s defending Chad, Chad , and I know Mason doesn’t do that for just anyone. But it’s not just the words that get to me—it’s the fact that I can still smell Chad on him. The same scent that was just filling my car not even two hours ago, wrapping around me like it was meant for me alone. It’s probably ingrained into the leather of my seats now. And yet, here it is, all over Mason , mixed with Lakelyn’s. The thought of it makes something ugly claw its way up my throat.
Mason’s smile flickers as he runs his thumb slowly over his lower lip, like he’s remembering kissing them— both of them. My hands grip the bottle in my lap so tightly I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter. The image of Mason’s lips on Chad and Lakelyn’s... it’s too much. The jealousy turns sharp and acidic, twisting my insides.
"Something on your mind?" Mason says, his voice deceptively casual, though his eyes flick toward me, catching the tension radiating from every part of me.
I force a dry laugh, trying to keep it cool, but my tone is biting. “Didn’t realize you were getting that close to them.”
“You know I’m opening that shop with Lake. Chad was there when I showed up. We—” he starts, his eyes flicking to Landon before he snaps his mouth shut.
“You what?” I press. I have to hear it. I have to hear that Chad went from having sex with me in my car to rubbing against Mason at his shop. And not only Chad, but Lakelyn too. I’m so fucked.
“Nothing,” Mason clips, crossing his arms, beer still gripped in one hand. He’s shutting down, but his scent is everywhere, and Chad’s perfume clings to him, mixed with Lakelyn’s softer notes. The jealousy digs deeper, festering.
“Nothing, huh?” I glance at Landon, knowing damn well he’s picking up on the vibe. “Sure as hell doesn’t smell like nothing ,” I mutter, leaning back into my seat, trying to act casual. But it’s all in my head now—Chad, Lakelyn, Mason. My vision tunnels.
Not even the diffusers in the air can block out the smell of my pack all over him. Not that they know they are my pack.
Landon leans forward inhaling deeply, but his face stays neutral so I know he doesn’t smell his sister all over Mason like I can. Maybe because he’s across the table. Maybe because I’m more attuned to their tantalizing perfumes.
A frantic feeling grips me at the thought of losing both of them to Mason. I down the last of my beer, setting the empty bottle on the table with a bit more force than necessary.
Mason’s chair scrapes back as he leans closer. “Dean, we need to talk,” he says, the gravity in his voice sending a shiver down my spine.
“Talk about what?” I challenge, my heart racing. If I go anywhere with him I might just try to murder him.
“About us,” he replies, his gaze steady and intense.
Before I can respond, Dee chimes in, a teasing lilt in her voice. “Wow, this sounds serious! Are you two getting all lovey-dovey or something?”
Mason rolls his eyes at his sister, before he turns without another word and stalks away.