2. Resolutions Are For Breaking
2
RESOLUTIONS ARE FOR brEAKING
T he next morning, Emre’s carefully laid plans were all shot to hell.
He was curled up on his threadbare mattress on the floor, lightly tickling eight-month-old Abbie’s tummy to make her giggle.
Except heavy footsteps stopped outside his apartment.
His pulse skyrocketed.
Had Ronald found him already?
He closed his eyes and hunched over Abbie, waiting for Ronald to beat his door down.
There weren’t many hiding places in here: just the tiny living room that shared the same space as his kitchen, an even smaller bedroom, and a bathroom that was almost the size of a postage stamp.
He had nowhere to hide from a vengeful ex.
“It’s me,” Zenith said from the other side of the door.
“Just thought I’d leave some breakfast. That’s all. Sorry if I scared you.”
He knocked lightly on the door, and his footsteps drifted off.
Emre waited for Zenith’s door to close, for his footsteps to wander through his own apartment and settle.
When he heard no one else outside his door, he scurried over and hurriedly unlocked it, nudging Buttwheel out of the way so he could ease the door open.
A fancy paper bag hung from his doorknob.
Emre brought it in and quickly locked the door, before peeking inside.
A large cup stood in one corner of the bag—hot chocolate, the label said.
It was accompanied by a breakfast croissant with cheese, egg, and ham, three chocolate chip cookies, and two blueberry muffins.
Emre gaped at the sheer amount of food.
“Y-you didn’t have to...”
“I was getting breakfast for myself, anyway. It wasn’t a bother,” came Zenith’s reply from the next apartment over.
Well, Emre wasn’t stupid.
He wasn’t about to refuse food when he had two babies to feed.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Enjoy.”
He brought the bag to his bed, laying out its contents on the corner of his mattress to admire it all.
Emre sipped some hot chocolate and moaned softly at the whipped cream.
Then he took a bite of the croissant, and moaned again.
He hadn’t had this much good food in.
.
.
a long time.
In fact, he wasn’t sure he’d ever had such a luxurious spread.
“It’s so good,” he whimpered.
Two doors down, Zenith let out a long, harsh breath.
Was he.
.
.
frustrated?
Emre listened as the shower came on in the alpha’s apartment.
He bit off the sugar-crusted top of the blueberry muffin and moaned, then sipped on hot chocolate.
More sounds fell out of his mouth.
The food was all so sinful.
After a while, there came a deep groan.
Emre paused.
And he heard some wet, rhythmic sounds that had him dropping everything to cover Abbie’s ears.
Was that.
.
.
Zenith?
Touching himself?
He definitely recognized the voice cursing lowly.
Oh, gods.
Emre blushed all over.
This can’t be happening.
Except it was, the slick sounds growing faster, the heavy breathing going deeper.
He could just imagine those thick fingers wrapped around that bulge in Zenith’s shorts.
He should cover his ears, except he had no available hands.
Emre ended up listening to every sinful second, trying not to feel guilty.
Especially because he was committing it all to memory.
When it was finally over, he went back to his food, trembling.
He ate more of his breakfast croissant and moaned helplessly.
How was the food so good?
“Gods, fuck,” Zenith hissed.
Emre wisely decided not to ask him what was wrong, because he didn’t want to admit that he’d overheard everything else.
He saved the leftovers for the rest of the day.
He fed Abbie and let her scamper around as a wolf pup, waiting until she’d exhausted herself and fallen asleep.
Then he ducked into the shower and relived Zenith’s sounds, slipping his fingers into himself.
He had to add the fingers from his other hand; four of his own were nowhere near the size of Zenith’s cock.
It still wasn’t good enough—he could never quite get the right angle.
At least it was enough to make him come.
His sounds punched out of him, and he hurried to clean up the mess.
Then he hoped like hell Zenith hadn’t heard any of that.
The rest of the day, Emre spent poring through the newspapers he’d scrounged from the trash can downstairs.
He found a listing for a cashier position on the other side of Cartfalls.
He had to try applying for that; he didn’t have much of a skill set.
Except Abbie was still young, and she wouldn’t appreciate being cooped up in a baby sling as a wolf cub.
He tried to think of what he could do for Zenith in return for all the food, too, but he came up blank.
He had precious little cash, all of which he was saving for Abbie.
The typing in Zenith’s apartment stopped.
The alpha began to pace.
Emre listened to him take five steps down the length of the room, then five steps back, on and on until it made Emre itch.
When he couldn’t stand it any longer, he blurted, “Is there something I can help you with?”
The pacing stopped.
“Huh,” Zenith murmured.
“What do you know about shopping carts and babies?”
Emre’s eyebrows went up.
He glanced at Abbie and Buttwheel.
“Why do you need to know about them?”
“I’m... writing a book, actually. A cozy mystery. I need to know if someone could leave a baby in a cart, and have the cart follow them for a while.”
“You can’t look that up on the internet?”
There came a soft rustling, as though Zenith was running his fingers through his hair.
“I, ah. I’ve cut off my internet so I don’t spend half my time scrolling through CartBook.”
Emre cracked a smile.
“I thought authors just sit and write all day.”
“You don’t know how easy it is to open social media and get distracted by the hundred baby pictures your friends post,” Zenith muttered.
“Unfortunately, having no internet also means I have no access to information.”
Emre laughed and watched Buttwheel clunk around the living room with its bad wheel.
“That makes sense. How is your character treating the cart? Carts have feelings. The longer you spend being nice to them, the more loyal they’ll be to you. If you treat them like dirt, they won’t obey your commands.”
Zenith made a thoughtful humming noise.
“So if a bad guy tries to send a baby away in a cart...”
“If it’s a random cart, it won’t go far. It doesn’t have any reason to obey,” Emre said.
“But if you spend time walking with the cart up and down the grocery store aisles, and let it carry lots of things for you, the cart’s going to take the baby wherever you tell it to go.”
Emre shuddered and added, “Actually, that’s really fucking creepy, if a bad guy did that.”
“Hmm. I can work with this.” Zenith’s couch creaked, and the typing started up once more.
Emre couldn’t help but feel a little proud of himself for helping, even if the subject matter unnerved him.
He peered out of the windows to make sure there wasn’t anyone suspicious lurking around the building, then shrugged out of his clothes so he could shift into a wolf and play with Abbie.
He lost track of time for a while.
As a wolf, everything was simple—no complicated human thoughts, no debts he needed to pay.
There were just his instincts: to protect his pup and keep his territory safe.
He thought he heard Zenith speaking some hours later.
“Emre?”
Emre cocked his head and gave a yip.
“I just realized that I forgot to thank you,” Zenith said.
“I’d like to make you dinner, if that’s okay.”
Emre yipped again.
“I’m guessing that’s a yes?”
Another yip.
“Steak and potatoes sound good to you?”
Emre wriggled and yipped three times.
Zenith laughed.
“All right. I’ll come over in a bit.”
Abbie fell off the mattress, and Emre nudged her back onto it.
She clambered all over him and tugged on his ears with her little teeth.
She wriggled under his paws, too, and pounced on a stuffed toy hiding under the pillow.
Emre could watch her forever and not tire of it.
He looked up when someone knocked.
His senses were sharper in this form; he could smell Zenith’s smoke-and-musk scent more clearly from under the door.
Along with the scents of delicious food.
Emre trotted excitedly over and shifted when he remembered how difficult it was to unbolt the latches as a wolf.
Then he opened the door, and remembered again just how huge Zenith was.
This time, Zenith wore tight jeans and a button-down shirt, with his sleeves rolled up past his elbows.
He carried a few stacked boxes and plates, and he was even more handsome somehow.
Zenith’s entire body tensed, then relaxed.
It was only when Emre met Zenith’s eyes, that he realized Zenith was raking his gaze up and down Emre’s body.
“This is some welcome,” Zenith said, his voice rough.
Emre looked down at himself and yelped, shoving his hands over his important bits.
“Oh, gods! I, um, I forgot. I was not trying to seduce you at my door, I promise.”
Zenith chuckled.
“Yeah? You’d have succeeded, too.”
He prowled closer, and Emre’s entire body grew hot.
How could someone perfect like Zenith be attracted to him?
He backed away and turned around, trying to remember where he’d stuffed his clothes.
“Mmm,” Zenith growled.
Emre peeked over his shoulder, only to realize that Zenith was checking out his ass.
Emre squawked.
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Zenith murmured.
“If you need a shirt, I’ve got one.”
Emre grabbed the nearest piece of fabric, but it was one of Abbie’s too-tiny towels.
“Here,” Zenith said.
Emre turned back, only to realize that Zenith had pulled off his own shirt, and was holding it out.
“T-thanks,” Emre stuttered, wrapping the thin shirt around himself.
It wasn’t overly warm, but it carried with it Zenith’s masculine scent.
Emre wanted to press his face into it and breathe it in.
Maybe when he found a moment to himself.
Zenith watched brazenly as Emre buttoned it up.
The shirt was huge on him, falling to mid-thigh.
“Would you mind if I had dinner with you?” Zenith asked, gesturing at the boxes he’d set on the tiny kitchen counter.
“Um, sure? I mean, I don’t have any fancy tables and chairs,” Emre said awkwardly.
His spindly chairs would probably collapse like toothpicks under Zenith’s weight.
“I can sit on the floor,” Zenith said.
“You can sit on my bed.” Emre froze the moment the words were out of his mouth.
The alpha’s lips pulled into a slow smile.
“Are you sure?”
Emre gulped.
“Yes.”
“Let me dish out some food.” Zenith turned back to the counter and slid a large, glistening steak onto a plate.
The mashed potatoes smelled creamy, savory, and buttery, and Emre was moaning even before he’d tasted it.
Zenith sucked in a slow breath.
“You really like my food.”
“I, uh. Yes.” Emre blushed so hard that it went down to his chest.
He found a pair of pants and stepped into them, just so he wouldn’t feel quite so naked around Zenith.
Was it Emre, or did Zenith’s bulge look bigger when he turned around?
“Don’t your pants crush your balls?” Emre blurted.
Zenith huffed.
“There’s enough space in there.”
Emre was not going to suggest freeing them.
And he certainly wasn’t going to ask if Zenith was wearing any underwear.
When the food was plated, Zenith came over, sitting on the other end of the mattress from where Abbie was.
The pup turned and looked at him curiously, then scampered over and began sniffing his knee.
Zenith froze.
He looked bewildered, then amazed, and his face softened.
Emre took the smaller plate of food from him, his heart thumping.
“That’s Abbie. She likes being scratched behind her ears.”
Zenith carefully reached over to do exactly that.
Abbie twisted around onto her back and nipped at his fingers; Zenith let her.
“Abbie! Don’t bite,” Emre yelped.
“It’s fine,” Zenith said, perfectly willing to be Abbie’s chew toy when no one else would.
“She’s beautiful.” He pulled his hand back when she grew bored and raced off, his gaze going to Emre’s baby bump.
“Is your...?”
“Also a wolf pup.” Emre rubbed his belly.
“Makes me crave raw meat.”
The alpha’s mouth pulled into a smile.
“Your steak is rare—it’s only seared on the outside.”
Emre’s heart fluttered.
“That’s... You’re doing a lot for me.”
Zenith shrugged easily, not looking away from Emre.
“You’re special.”
Emre didn’t know what to say to that, so he stuffed his steak into his mouth.
And belatedly remembered his manners.
This left him staring awkwardly at Zenith, the slab of meat hanging from his teeth.
“Um.”
Zenith laughed.
“Go ahead and eat it. I just hope you enjoy my food.”
Emre tore off some meat and swallowed, moaning at its tenderness.
“So good.”
Zenith cleared his throat, his gaze turning intent.
After a whole lifetime of his pack telling him he should behave primly and demurely so alphas would think he was acceptable, it was amazing to learn that he could drip steak juices everywhere, and Zenith would still look at him like he was desirable.
“Oh,” Emre mumbled, shocked.
He tried to eat more tidily and mostly failed, but Zenith stuck around, watching both him and Abbie.
Actually, Zenith had pushed claws out of his fingertips, and he was using them to carefully separate his own steak into smaller pieces.
“You don’t use cutlery?” Emre blurted.
Zenith shrugged.
“I thought I would try it this way, since you’re comfortable with it.”
Only then did Emre see the clean knives and forks on Zenith’s other side, forgotten.
He gulped, oddly touched.
Then he wondered what the chances were, that someone like Zenith would want a nobody like him.
There was something other about Zenith, Emre knew.
Something powerful, strong.
He wasn’t a common species.
Nothing Emre had met before.
“How old are you?” he blurted.
“Not too old. A hundred and twelve.”
Emre’s mouth fell open.
“ That’s ‘not old’?!”
Emre was twenty-three, and he thought he was plenty old himself.
“My species is long-lived. Compared to my brothers, I’m terribly young.” The alpha smiled, his gaze sliding to Emre’s belly.
“I would like to have a baby, though.”
“Why don’t you have one yet? I’m sure there are several people willing to give you a baby.”
“Like you?” Zenith’s smile grew.
Emre blushed so hot, he felt a bit dizzy.
“I-I’m not special.”
“Oh, you are.”
The alpha leaned in, sheer heat radiating off his body.
He pressed his nose to the sensitive spot under Emre’s ear and breathed in deeply.
Then he rumbled and pulled away.
“The reason why I haven’t found a mate yet, is because my hoard isn’t big enough to court anyone. Hell, my butler’s part-time; I can’t afford him full time yet.”
“You have a butler!?” Emre’s jaw dropped.
Then he said indignantly, “Anyone who wants you for who you are, won’t care how big your hoard is.”
“I seem to remember you sizing up my... dimensions,” Zenith said with a pointed look between his own legs.
Emre wanted the mattress to swallow him up.
“It was right there! It was looking me in the eye. I just looked back!”
There was also the way his pregnancy wreaked havoc on his hormones.
Most days, Emre needed to be stuffed full, except he didn’t trust many alphas after Ronald.
Zenith gave him a long look.
“You do have a point, though. I just... I want to be sure I have enough wealth so I can provide for my mate.”
“My parents didn’t have much, but they were happy,” Emre said quietly.
“They were deeply in love. We lived in a shamble of a cottage, on the outskirts of town, and our roof always leaked. There was always a draft coming in through the windows. But my Ma and Pa were always smiling around each other; they kept touching like they couldn’t stand to be apart. I want what they had.”
Zenith’s gaze softened.
“I would’ve loved to meet them.”
Emre nodded, sagging.
“I miss them so much sometimes, it really hurts.”
Zenith reached over then, wrapping his arm around Emre’s shoulders.
“What happened?”
“There was a fire,” Emre said quietly.
“Someone set fire to the forest, and our pack was trapped inside. I was the only one who didn’t burn because I left the village that day, on an errand for my parents.”
Zenith swore and set his plate down, pulling Emre into his lap.
“Fuck. Who set that fire?”
“Some psycho hunter.” Emre buried his face in Zenith’s shoulder.
“I don’t want to talk about it. But she’s in jail now, locked away for life.”
Zenith growled, holding Emre tight against himself.
“I wish I could’ve done something.”
“There’s not much you can do now.”
Zenith ran his large hands up and down Emre’s back, until the ache faded and Emre sagged against him.
They sat together for a long while, Zenith’s scent all over Emre’s body.
Their entwined scents smelled.
.
.
really good.
As the seconds drifted by, Emre slowly realized that he was pressed against Zenith’s strong, bare chest.
It was just as solid as it looked.
Zenith felt really safe, too.
Safer than Emre had been in years.
Probably even before he’d met Ronald, ever since the fire had happened.
“More food?” Zenith murmured, his breath hot on Emre’s cheek.
Emre shivered.
“I think I’ve had enough for now.”
“Okay. I’ll put the leftovers in the fridge.”
Emre thought Zenith would set him down, except the man carried him with one arm, and used his other to take their plates to the kitchen.
When he’d popped all the leftovers in the fridge, Zenith brought Emre back to his mattress.
Buttwheel bumped noisily against the bathroom door.
“You’re going to put dents into that,” Emre complained.
Except inspiration struck.
He straightened, leaning away slightly from Zenith to look him in the eye.
“I know. If—If you ever have any other questions about carts or babies, you can come over and ask me. Or if you need to, I don’t know, test out cart scenes from your book. I’m sure Buttwheel will be happy to help.”
Zenith chuckled, smiling that toe-curling smile.
“Buttwheel?”
“That’s my cart’s name. It has an awkward bum wheel. I don’t know how to fix it.”
“I’ll see what I can do when I come over tomorrow,” Zenith murmured.
Emre’s heart skipped.
“Okay.”
“For now, I should be going.” But Zenith didn’t release Emre immediately, and Emre so badly wanted to ask him to stay.
Zenith probably had other things to do; he was busy writing a book!
And he’d already cooked Emre dinner and comforted him tonight.
Emre tried not to notice the generous bulge pressed against his thigh.
Or Zenith’s hand cupping his ass to support his weight.
“I should go,” Zenith said again, looking into Emre’s eyes for a long moment.
Then he squeezed Emre’s ass, and Emre grew wet so fast, he had to get Zenith out of the apartment before he tented his pants.
“G-good night,” Emre croaked.
“I hope you have a good night in bed.”
He clapped his hands over his mouth the next second, rocking back and forth in humiliation.
“I didn’t mean to say that. You have to believe me!”
“I’ll have a very good night in my bed,” Zenith whispered in his ear, his breath hot.
Then he patted Emre’s ass and stood, his bulge very pronounced in his pants.
Emre’s slick soaked through his clothes to the mattress.
He could only stare as Zenith tipped an imaginary hat, and smoothly left his apartment.