32. Kenny
Kenny
R olling over, I nearly topple into mid-air. “Gah—,”
A solid pair of hands catch me. Jake rolls me back into place on the couch, his face hovering over me worriedly. “You okay?”
Wide-eyed, I try to catch my breath. “I’m not used to sleeping on a couch.”
Or anywhere raised. A year spent bundled up in clothes and blankets will do that. Blinking, I sit up and rub sleep from my eyes with the back of my hand. “What time is it?”
“After ten,” Jake says quietly. He settles back down against the couch. “You want to try upstairs? The nest is pretty set-up, although you’ll want to build it properly. But it might work for now.”
Across from us, Max’s head nods in the wide, comfortable leather chair. My head shakes. “Maybe tomorrow.”
In front of us, the television flickers, showing some sort of action movie. Colours dance across Jake’s face as he looks up at me. “No rush, Kenny.”
Everyone keeps saying that. Abrams probably repeated it half a dozen times in the hour he spent here, checking me once and then again at Theo’s insistence.
I lost a year of my life. Surely there has to be some sort of averaging out.
Jake watches as I get to my feet, stretching until the tense muscles in my shoulders pop and I sigh with relief. “Bathroom.”
After I’m done, I make my way back. The lights are on in the kitchen, and my stomach gives a little grunt of stop forgetting about me.
I can’t work out the sound at first. Not until I look down. “Hey.”
Oscar sits back on his ankles. There’s a bucket beside him, the floor ahead of us glistening where he’s scrubbing it. Something twists in my chest. “Do you want me to help?”
His mouth nearly drops open. “Absolutely not.”
I glance around. Everything is gleaming. While we’ve been resting, he’s been… cleaning. My heart squeezes again. “I didn’t know pack leaders could clean.”
My words are lightly teasing. But it’s true . Pack dynamics tend to work out so those with lower dominance do the bulk of the housework in most packs.
But not this one.
Oscar pushes his glasses up. His words are amused. “Good pack leaders do what they need to to keep their pack going, I like to think. You want a drink? Something to eat?”
“I don’t want to mess up the floor.” I shift on my feet.
“You’re not.” He’s up on his feet, curling his arm around my waist and lifting me effortlessly with one hand. “I am. What do you need?”
He settles me on the counter, my bare feet swinging down. When his hand slips free, I grab for it. “Thank—,”
“I believe you’ve been warned about that.” God, his eyes are dark. I’ve never seen eyes like his. Such a dark shade of brown that they appear black, the iris bleeding into the pupil.
He shifts closer. And I’m reminded again how much they’ve all changed. Oscar was always a little slighter than the rest… but not anymore. His shoulders block most of the light as he looks down at me. His hands rest on the counter on either side of my legs, and I swallow at the wave of scent that rolls over me. Blanketing me.
When I suck in a breath, his lips shift into a small, knowing smile. His thumb strokes the edge of my leg. “What are you looking at, mate?”
My eyes jerk up to his, my heart flip-flopping. “You’ve never called me that before.”
His eyebrows dip into a small v. Just a little. Completely and utterly focused on me. “Would you rather I didn’t do that?”
I consider it. “Why did you?”
“Because,” he says softly. “You are my mate. And I wanted to know what it would feel like to call you mine. Just once. I’m sorry if it was too much.”
My eyes trace his face. “How did it feel?”
Touch . That’s what Abrams said I needed. Lots of touch. Contact with my mates. Comfort, he called it. But… I’m not feeling especially comforted right now.
“Better than I ever imagined.” The quiet words bury into my heart, carving out their own little space. “But then… I’ve always felt that way when it comes to you.”
And I know. I know he’s going to step back. To give me space, because we have all this damned time, or so they keep telling me.
Maybe we’ve wasted enough time. Not that I’m ready for everything. But maybe… maybe something.
I almost lunge for him, toppling off the counter. Oscar grabs me easily, stopping me from falling. “Kenny—,”
I hook my hand around his neck, tug him down, and press our lips together. He inhales sharply, his lips soft against mine. And I… freeze.
What the hell do I do now?
The stiffness in Oscar’s body softens. He steps closer, until our bodies are pressed together. And his hands cup my cheeks, cradling them as he tilts my head and takes over. His lips caress mine, gently at first. When a noise sounds in my throat, his urgency grows to match mine as I press into him.
More. Give me more of this.
It’s almost as if he hears me. I swallow the low growl he lets out, steal it for myself before his hands slide down and he’s lifting me back onto the counter. My legs wrap around his hips, holding him against me as my hands raise to touch his face.
He yanks himself away, wide-eyed. “Shit—Kenny—,”
He looks… rumpled. Undone, his glasses slightly askew and his cheeks flushed. It’s a good look for him. “This is too soon.”
I reach for him again, carefully sliding off his glasses and placing them on the counter before wrapping my fingers in his shirt to draw him closer. “Maybe not. Maybe we’re just really, really late.”
Maybe this is something we should have done a long time ago. Harmless, sweet kissing, even as heat threatens, ember flickering to life in my stomach. Even as he presses closer and it’s not enough, desperation and need filling me up. Maybe I’m tired of being only comforted.
Maybe I want to be wanted, too.
And he wants me. I can feel it in every desperate movement, in every harsh breath he lets out against my lips before he tastes me again. Could lose myself to this feeling.
This would have been a really good first.
We pull apart, both of us breathing heavily. His lips are swollen.
When I shift again, a needy noise that I’ve never heard before echoing in the back of my throat, he grabs my fingers, lifting them to his lips. “Part of my job as your alpha is to know when you need to stop, baby. I don’t want to, but we need to stop now.”
I can barely concentrate, my eyes on his lips. Want.
“Kenny.” He murmurs my name. Says it again, and again. “My Kenny.”
Yes. But he pulls me into his arms instead, hugging me against the counter as I bury my face in his neck. My teeth graze his skin, testing, asking, and he hisses. “I’m going to be late for work.”
He doesn’t sound like he particularly cares. But his words break through the haze, and I pull back. “Work?”
His finger presses against the tip of my nose. “Yes.”
“But… it’s so late.” And I realize I have no idea what he does. “You have to go?”
He holds out his hand. “Nope. You can stay with me if you want to. It’s incredibly boring, though.”
***
Curled up in his lap, I stare, wide-eyed. He gives me a rueful smile as he slips the headphones over his ears. “Good evening. You’re through to Oscar. How can I help?”
The high-pitched rant that hits my ears makes me flinch back, but he barely flinches. His thumb rubs my lower back in soft circles as he leans forward, clicking at the monitor in the corner of his room. “I’m really sorry to hear that. It sounds like a simple fix. I’ll go through it with you.”
When he slips the headphones off an hour later, I haven’t moved. “What happened to college?”
He had a scholarship. He was going to use his brain to do brilliant things that none of us knew how to describe.
But he’s… here.
His voice turns chiding. “It’s honest work. I’m not ashamed of it.”
I know that. I’m not judging him for it. “But why?”
His smile softens. “Some things are more important than a classroom.”
I can’t breathe. “You didn’t go, because of me? You could have studied online!”
“Maybe I will.” His smile turns teasing. “We have time, remember? But my focus is my pack, Kenny. That’s what makes me happy. It’s not a sacrifice for me to work to contribute to a home for us. It’s a privilege.”
I nearly growl. But I’m thinking too hard. Thinking about things I should have already thought of. But… I didn’t. “Who paid for my spot at the Center when Charles’s money ran out?”
His smile falters, slips. “Kenny...,”
I search his face, my back stiffening. “I want to know. I’m your… your mate. Don’t lie.”
“I’m not going to.” He lets out a soft sigh. “But I want you to understand that you’re our priority. You’re always going to be. And we can live with my choices, but we could never have lived with losing you . None of us could.”
I know what the prices are at the Center. I saw the paperwork. “Theo used his college fund, didn’t he?”
Oscar’s lips press together, his body tensing. It’s confirmation enough.
“All of you. You all paid.” He’s been working nights, spending his days with me. “When do you sleep , Oz?”
“I sleep.” He reaches for his headset again. “I have to log back on. But this isn’t something you need to worry about, okay?”
I study him more closely this time. The darkness beneath his eyes makes sense now. But he doesn’t pause in his work, taking calls and handling complaints with an ease that tells me he’s barely touching his brain.
Slowly, I settle back against him. Someone on the phone starts to shout, and irritation gathers at the back of my throat. At my slow snarl, he glances down, a smile tugging his lips before he presses his finger against my own. Amusement fills his face.
Rolling my eyes, I sneak my hand around to his neck, my nails gently scratching at the skin. He shifts, his head falling back with a quiet groan before his eyes fly open. “Apologies. Could you repeat that?”
I spend the night curled up in his lap, listening to his voice rumble beneath my ear. Falling asleep to the low timbre of his words, the touch of his fingers against my hair.
And when I sleep, there are no dreams.
It might be the best sleep I’ve ever had.