Chapter 17 #2
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Aiden rolls his eyes as he stands. “Sit your ass down, Sawyer. You know you’re always welcome here.”
Sawyer takes the seat beside Henry as Aiden and Will start gathering the dirty dishes. They bring them to the kitchen and quickly return with a stack of plates and dessert. Warm caramel apple pie and vanilla ice cream. My favorite. It reminds me of Wilder’s scent, and I squirm in my seat.
“So,” Verity says in a singsong voice as her mates place a portion of dessert in front of her. “The date was a train wreck, huh? Who did Marnie set you up with?”
I grimace, poking at my pie with a fork. “Pack Johnson.”
“Those dickheads?” Trace sounds offended on my behalf. “They’re not even close to good enough for you. What the hell was Marnie thinking?”
I may not know Henry’s pack as well as I could, but the fact that they’re all obviously offended on my behalf makes me feel warm and accepted.
I’ll have to spend more time with them. I really like the idea of having four more older brothers and an older sister.
Especially if they’re on my side, not Marnie’s.
“She wasn’t, obviously,” Sawyer says, his chest rumbling. “Those little pricks spent the entire time talking down to Liv. As if they’re even worthy to breathe the same air as her.”
“Oh, babe, you are in so much trouble,” Verity whispers in my ear with a giggle.
Thankfully, Henry doesn’t seem to be suspicious of his best friend’s protective indignation on my behalf. Sawyer’s always been protective of me. It’s just, the way Sawyer is protective of me has changed.
“Get this, and then they ditched her and left her with the bill.”
The whole table erupts in growly, alpha displeasure as Henry’s pack and Sawyer discuss all the ways they’d like to make Pack Johnson pay.
“We are definitely getting together to talk about this,” Verity whispers. “And soon.”
My heart rate increases. “You’re not going to tell Henry, are you?” I should be the one to tell him. Or Sawyer. God, this is all so complicated.
Verity smiles at me. It’s one of those secret smiles I’ve seen girlfriends exchange but have never received myself. Could Verity be my friend? “Your secret’s safe with me,” she murmurs.
Sawyer laughs at something, and my heart skips, gaze shooting to him.
God, he’s so gorgeous. I’m unsure how or when I’ll tell Henry what’s going on, but I know one thing for certain—my body is full of oxytocin and endorphins whenever my pack is around, which can mean only one thing. I’m falling fast and hard.
It’s been a few days since dinner with Henry, and falling fast and hard isn’t as painful as one might think. The truth is, the gradual descent into infatuation is blanketed in quiet moments and warm embraces.
The streetlamps have been on for hours by the time Wilder gets home. I’ve stayed over a few times and I’ve noticed a few things. Wilder usually works later than Hayes, Liam, and Sawyer do, unless Sawyer has papers to grade.
Most nights he works, Wilder gets home closer to midnight. The tattoo shop keeps odd hours in order to accommodate clients. For some people, it’s hard to take time off, but Wilder working late means that I miss him at dinner.
I slide out of Liam’s bed, checking that he’s still sleeping before tiptoeing down the hall. Wilder is sitting at the table, a glass of water in front of him and bags beneath his eyes.
“Hey,” I murmur, sitting beside him.
He glances up from his phone, the lines of stress on his face bleeding away as he takes me in. “Hey, sweetness. What are you doing up so late?”
“I was waiting for you.”
“Me?”
I nod.
“Why?”
“Because I missed you.” I shrug, averting my gaze. “And I wanted to see if you were hungry.”
Humming, Wilder reaches for my chair and drags it closer to his. He wraps his arms around me. “You’re such a good omega.”
“Wild,” I say, biting my cheek. Those words do funny things to my insides. Mother always says I’ll never be good. The more time I spend with this pack, the more I think I can be.
“It’s true,” he murmurs, burying his nose against my throat and breathing in. “You smell so good.”
I pat his back. “Are you hungry?”
“I could eat.”
“Then, let me take care of you.”
He breathes me in again, arms tightening around me when I try to stand, and I think for a moment he won’t let me go. He relents after a moment, exhaling with a groan.
“Long night?”
“A long session.” He stretches. “I like to get as much done on a piece as I can at one time, but this one is big. It’ll take another sitting.”
“Why do you want to do it all at one time?”
“The muse is a fickle being,” he murmurs, eyeing me as I pull out the ingredients to make him a toasted sandwich.
I’ve heard of an artist’s muse and always wondered what it feels like. “Is your muse a person?”
“No, I think my muse is more about the universe.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know, it’s dumb.”
The bread is soft, giving against my fingers as I lay two pieces on a plate. I grab a knife. “What’s dumb about the universe? It’s full of magical things.” He doesn’t respond right away, and I shift my focus to find him with a pinched face. “Wild?”
“You’re smart.”
My eyebrows lift. “I think so?”
“I’m not.”
I rear back. “Who told you that?”
“No one had to,” he says, glancing away. “I’m a tattoo artist.”
Setting aside the sandwich making, I head over to him and wait until he meets my gaze. “Being creative doesn’t mean you’re stupid. In fact, the true sign of intelligence isn’t knowledge but imagination. You know who said that?”
“No.”
“Einstein. So, unless you’re going to disagree with Einstein, I suggest you start being nice to yourself. I’m not creative. Not a single bone in my body. You create things half the world, more than half the world, wishes they could. Don’t diminish your talent because you don’t have a doctorate.”
He presses his lips together.
I narrow my eyes. “Do you hear me?”
Swallowing, he exhales. “Yeah, I hear you, sweetness.”
“Good.” Beaming at him, I head back to preparing him a midnight snack. “Now, tell me about the universe.”
His eyes light up. “Well, first, the universe is ever expanding, which is crazy to think about. We’re here, these tiny little beings, and the universe is bigger than any of us can possibly conceive.”
“We are but mere humans,” I agree with a soft hum. There’s already a pan on the stovetop. I turn it on and wait for it to warm. “Have you ever gone stargazing?”
“I, uh, I have a telescope.”
Why does he still sound so nervous? “Wilder, that’s so cool. Will you show me after you eat?”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. I love the concept of space. It’s fascinating.” I sigh. “But I was too wrapped up in my PhD to learn much about it while at school.”
“Ah, so maybe you’re not a smarty-pants, after all.”
I give him a look.
He grins. “Don’t worry, Liv. I have books.”
“I knew you were a nerd. The second I laid eyes on all those tattoos and that smile, I thought to myself, that alpha is a geek.”
Chuckling, he rubs the back of his neck. “Don’t tell anyone, okay?”
I mime zipping my lips. “Your secret is safe with me.”
The conversation shifts to my work and how that’s going, and despite the topic being incredibly boring to most people, Wilder listens and asks questions when he doesn’t understand.
That alone warms my heart. I sit beside him while he eats, explaining—probably in too much detail—how going feral actually works.
Talking about the research is nice. I guess I didn’t realize how few chances I get until I met the guys. Mother never cares and only gets mad when I bring up McKinley Labs, and my dads are too wrapped up in their own lives to care.
“Man, that was so good.” Wilder rubs his stomach and nudges me. “You might’ve been a chef in another life.”
Scoffing, I roll my eyes. “I’m not near as good as you or Hayes.”
“All it takes is practice. Still up for some stargazing? We won’t see much, since we’re in the city, but it’s still cool to look.”
“Of course, let me grab my jacket.”
“You can wear mine.” He stands, grabs a fleece from the coat rack by the front door, and holds it open. “In you go.”
Caramel, strong and warm, wraps around me.
The jacket is toasty, thick enough to stave off the chill as we head into the garage.
Wilder grabs a long canvas bag with straps and escorts me to the backyard.
Their back porch is small but cozy, and I settle onto one of the plastic chairs as he sets up the telescope.
Wilder’s features are highlighted by the light spilling out of the kitchen window.
He’s confident now, no longer worried that I’m about to disagree with him or that I might think he’s dumb.
I hope my alpha understands that there’s more to life than graduate degrees. I may know a lot about medicine, but I couldn’t tell you the first thing about filing taxes, construction, or space.
“All right, sweetness. I need you.”
My heart does a somersault. The chill that was threatening to settle in disappears when I stand beside Wilder. He smiles down at me and explains how the telescope works. When I bend down to look through the lens, he stands behind me, adjusting the position and blanketing me in warmth.
The sky is a deep blue, nearly black, and there are speckles of light dancing across the open expanse of space. Wilder explains what I’m looking at, and I give him my full attention, just as he did while I was going over the research.
Wilder deserves this moment, and I’m glad he’s willing to share the experience with me.