Chapter 31 Nelly
NELLY
The rain started up again, this time falling with increased purpose.
I moved from behind Wade’s tall body and walked a little faster.
He matched my speed, keeping slightly ahead as he guided me towards our next location—which seemed to be a large barn type structure.
I was glad for the jacket’s protection, but a fresh wave of guilt had me looking at Wade and the way his clothes were quickly soaking through.
Soaking through to show hints of tattoo and muscles.
I licked my lips involuntarily, spying his hardened nipples pushing against the white shirt.
Get ahold of yourself, woman!
Droplets rapidly patted against the brim of the cowboy hat.
I wanted to ask what he meant about Boone, but there must be a reason why Wade didn’t elaborate.
I held back my questions, trying not to spiral over all the possibilities.
I kept my curiosity at bay until the sound of the rain, the patterned crunch of our footsteps, and the silence that seemed wedged between us started feeling worse than just asking.
"What did you mean about Boone?" The question slipped out easily, as if my subconscious had already known I couldn’t hold out.
Wade glanced back at me. “Ah, well, that’s his story to tell.”
“Then you shouldn’t have mentioned it,” I snapped icily. I looked up at the sky, tipping the hat enough for rain to splatter my cheek, and I sighed. “I didn’t mean that to sound so bitchy.”
“No, you’re right. I probably shouldn’t have, but his kind of pain is relevant to our situation. He had a—” Wade abruptly stopped speaking, maybe realizing he was saying too much.
I waited, hoping he’d give me a crumb more, but this time my patience snapped in seconds. “He had what?”
Wade sighed. “You know, I’m usually better at keeping my mouth shut and minding my own business.”
I felt a flash of guilt for pushing him. “He had… an Alpaca,” I jokingly guessed, trying to absolve myself.
“Not exactly,” Wade smiled.
“He had… a purple motorcycle with a sidecar.”
“Green motorcycle, no sidecar,” he adjusted.
I imagined Boone on the back of a motorcycle. Braid whipping behind him as he rode. “That must have been a big bike.”
“Actually, it was too small for him. Guy basically rode with his knees hitting his chest. Sold it a couple years back.” Wade’s pace slowed, and I followed suit. “Before Boone met Levi and Coop, he was in a relationship. He thought it was forever. It wasn’t.” Wade gave a slight shrug.
I bit my lip, digesting his words as I stared down at the ground. Finally, I responded. “Losing something you didn’t think you could lose is… more than just pain. You sort of go into shock.”
Wade nodded slowly, agreeing with me. “The rest of us have lost family, struggled with individual loneliness, the ranch finances, our stupid choices. But Boone…” he paused, rolling his shoulders and gathering himself to speak again.
“I can’t imagine losing a scent match. He says being rejected by someone who feels like your soulmate is like getting your heart literally ripped out.
He’s been with us a long time now, though.
He likes to say the pain never goes away, and it doesn’t fade like some folks think.
We just grow around it. We grow over it.
We grow until the memory of the hurt is so deep under the skin that we can ignore it easier. ”
“Grow over the hurt,” I murmured mostly to myself. “I think there are some memories that can’t get deep enough, though, even with a million layers of skin.”
“Maybe so,” Wade said slowly, “But Boone’s healed. I didn’t see him in college of course, but he was still pretty broken back then. Says Coop and Levi made him happy for the first time since being rejected. Those three love the hell out of each other.”
“They’re together?” I asked, my interest only building instead of being satisfied.
“We’re our own Slickback Mountain around here,” he quipped, genuinely smiling. “And, full disclosure, I sometimes make their trio a quartet. Wyatt really got the short end of the stick. He and I’ve got this hang up about,” Wade paused, cheeks pinking, “being in intimate situations together.”
He glanced over at me, maybe to see my reaction.
I met his eyes and smiled, so he’d know I was unfazed.
Even if he’d said their pack was all entwined in that way, I wouldn’t care.
At some point along the way, living and loving and breaking and healing, I’d decided that people should love who and when and how they wanted.
We kept walking in comfortable silence, halfway to the building now.
“I’ve only dated a few Alphas,” I admitted, though I wasn’t sure why the hell the omission was coming out of my mouth, “And only one seriously. He was a cheating asshole though.”
“Someone cheated on you?” Wade asked in surprise.
“Really not that hard to imagine,” I countered.
“You don’t know how wrong you are, Nelly,” he mumbled the words, like they were only meant for his own ears.
My mind drifted to Imperial, and to the man I once thought was my forever.
I couldn’t fully understand Boone’s pain, Geoff hadn’t been a true scent match, but it was love of a sort.
On my part, at least. For him, I was only temporary.
I think, looking back, Geoff’s interest in me revolved around our matching talent.
We fit in the way high school quarterbacks always get the head cheerleader.
After my injury, he’d simply traded me in for someone still on his level.
And, yeah, that rejection hurt like hell.
We continued at a brisk pace; the rain was still falling, darkening the Earth beneath us.
“I can’t believe someone would reject Boone,” I meant to think the words, not say them out loud. But it just seemed so crazy. The guy was objectively handsome, and he seemed fundamentally good.
“I’ve only read stories about mate rejection.
” Wade shoved his hands into his pockets and didn’t say anything more.
He walked a little faster though, and I had to pump my legs to keep up now.
A breeze tried to kick the hat off my head, and I clamped a hand down on it quickly.
My hair escaped though, unfurling down the damp back of the jacket.
“What was his first scent match like?” As I asked the fresh question, I knew it was going too far. I was just trying to picture the other Omega. Would an Alpha only scent match with similar kinds of people? Did they look like me? Did they act like me? Why was I so curious to know?
I kept telling these men that I wasn’t staying here.
So why should I care about their pasts?
But knowing one of them had already endured rejection from a mate made leaving them a little harder. What would it feel like to reject them? Would Boone suffer the way he had before? Would I cause him pain?
We were at the building now. Wade reached out, fingers curling around the metal handles of the double sliders. “If you want all the details, you’ll have to talk to Boone.”
“Fair enough,” I admitted as he pulled the oversized doors apart, revealing stables. “What’s your pain then?”
I watched as Wade’s posture stiffen, but he kept moving into the stables, walking until he was at the center of the hall-like space between horse enclosures.
I stopped too, a few feet away from him.
He leaned over, hanging his head and giving it a shake.
Water splattered around the stables, darkening dots on the wood floors and stall walls.
When he stood, he tugged at his jeans and stomped one foot after the other, dislodging more rain.
Then he was slow turning, pulling the sides of his shirt away, trying to flutter the material and gather air to help it dry out a bit.
“I shouldn’t have asked,” I said quickly, before his expression came into view.
I used to be obedient and disciplined. I ate what I was supposed to, at the right time of day. I got to rehearsals early, and I was the last to leave. If the director said I needed to do better, I worked to improve until I thought my bones would break.
Wade just stared at me, his hair curling as lingering rain dripped onto his shoulders. His expression was unreadable, and I found myself wanting to know exactly what he was thinking.
Why do I care?
Stop asking?
I don’t need to know about them. I don’t need to find more reasons to change my mind.
God, I’m such an idiot.
I really didn’t understand how I could be considering—for even a single, damn second—staying in Wyoming.
But this staring contest with Wade was doing things to me.
The way his warm green eyes were now searching my face for something he needed to understand made my breath catch in my throat.
When he lifted a hand, pushing his curling hair back to tuck behind both ears, I thought my heart might stop.
My belly warmed. My pulse quickened. My Omega scent begin to perfume the air.
My grandparents sprouted into my mind unbidden.
Monogamous mates, which was going out of vogue these days.
They’d met by chance. Fallen in love in a flash.
And then they’d had a wonderful live together.
They’d had my mother. They’d lost my mother.
Then they’d raised me. But any number of things could have changed their destiny.
Grandpa could have skipped the charity run because of the business deal going wrong.
He almost had, working the weekend instead of keeping his plans.
And Grandmother was supposed to work the fundraising table, not the refreshments.
Everything had to work out in a certain, perfect way for them to find one another.
I’d come to Wyoming in a shit way, yet… how many things had worked together to forge my path here?
Why couldn’t this horrible, no-good beginning be our starting point?
I’d been through so much. Was it crazy to think finding five Alphas hell-bent on loving and protecting and marking me might be my reward for surviving?
“Could you say something?” My voice shook a little.