Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
TOM
Bryce was pressed against him, warmth and strength, and it was the hardest thing Tom had ever done to move away.
“No,” he said, thickly. Every part of him ached to stay in Bryce’s arms, but the danger hadn’t passed. “Jax might not be the only one to come through that door.”
Bryce stepped back without protest, professionalism slipping over him like a second skin. Tom watched it happen—beta instincts kicking in, watchful and contained. The man who’d kissed him like he meant it, and who’d rejected him like none of it mattered.
They stood in silence, tracking the door, keeping one eye on Jax’s limp form. Minutes passed. Then Bryce’s phone buzzed. Tom saw his shoulders drop in relief as he answered. A moment later, he ended the call and looked up.
“That was Matt. The security team’s in custody. It’s over.” He paused. “He said to come out from wherever we’re hiding before we give him a coronary.”
Tom braced to follow him, but Bryce didn’t move. He glanced at Jax, made sure he hadn’t stirred, then stepped away from the false security of the wall and toward Tom again.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked, voice low.
Tom blinked. He’d been trying to prepare himself for what happened when the threat was past. For awkwardness. Indifference, perhaps. Not for… that.
And then Bryce’s lips were on his—warm, certain, and trembling with everything he wasn’t saying. He kissed Tom like a promise. And Tom found himself responding, helpless to stop it, because everything inside him still wanted this. Still wanted him.
When they finally pulled apart, Tom was breathless. The walls he’d built against Bryce had been made of paper.
Bryce’s hand lingered at Tom’s cheek. “I was a coward,” he said softly. “I told you I didn’t want a mate. That I didn’t want you. And it wasn’t true.”
Tom stepped back, barely a pace, but Bryce dropped his hand. His eyes were hollow, like he was bracing for rejection.
Tom looked away, swallowing hard as he stared at the Capitol, red in the sinking sun.
“Tell me why.” The words sounded pleading, and he didn’t like that. He’d done nothing wrong, unless he counted being who he was. “We’re mates,” he added, and despite himself, his voice cracked. “That’s supposed to mean something.”
Bryce’s expression twisted, guilt and grief crossing his face. “That’s exactly why I ran.”
Tom shook his head. He didn’t want riddles. He wanted to know.
“I never wanted to meet my mate,” Bryce said, voice low and uneven.
“If I did, it would mean letting go of something I’d been holding onto for too long.
This guy I—” He stopped, jaw working. “There was someone. I fell hard, a long time ago. And I kept hoping that maybe one day he’d look at me the way I looked at him. ”
“You’re in love with someone else.” Everything made sickening sense, finally. And somewhere deep inside, he wasn’t surprised. Story of his life—something that couldn’t be changed getting in the way of what he wanted so desperately.
“No.” Bryce’s voice was sharp. “That’s the thing, I met you. And I started to like you. Really like you. And that’s when I realized—I’d already let him go. I just hadn’t noticed.”
He let out a shaky breath. “And then, when I figured out we were mates, I panicked. Because I thought maybe none of it was real for you, that you only wanted me because of what’s written into our DNA.
And if that was true, if the only reason you looked at me that way was instinct?
” His voice broke, and he breathed deeply, fists clenched.
Finally, he spoke again, his voice hoarse and low. “I think that would’ve broken me, from you.”
He held Tom’s gaze with what looked like an effort, his eyes full of raw regret. “And I’m sorry. For how I handled it. For making you feel like none of it mattered—like you didn’t matter. You did. You do.”
Tom stared at him. Bryce’s body was rigid, as if bracing for a blow, and suddenly Tom saw it—the man who made bad jokes and gave warm hugs, was standing here stripped bare. He’d offered up the most private parts of himself to Tom, and Tom could destroy him with the wrong word.
Tom was still hurting. But Bryce was, too. And somehow, that mattered more.
“The first time I met you, I liked you.” Tom’s voice was steady. “Not because you’re fine as hell—though you are, let’s be clear—but because of how you looked out for your pack, and how you made me feel welcome.”
Bryce’s face twisted, hope and fear warring in his eyes.
“Maybe the mate thing lit the match,” Tom said. “But what’s kept it burning is you. All of you.” He hesitated. “So yeah. Maybe we forget about fate and instincts. Maybe we should… I don’t know, date?”
It came out sounding horribly uncertain because, while the idea had made sense in his head, saying it out loud had brought Zack to mind all over again.
Tom was the one who’d pursued Zack and asked him out.
That terrible afternoon when he’d left Tom, Zack had told him that accepting his invitation had been the second-worst decision of his life.
Moving in together was, apparently, the worst.
“Or not,” he said swiftly, panic seizing him because Bryce would get to know him, and then he’d find out all those things in Tom that Zack had hated so much. How exhausting Tom could be, how much he felt, how hard he tried. “We should just forget it.”
“Why? You’ve just remembered you don’t put out till the third date?” Bryce asked, his eyes beginning to gleam with happiness. And then he paused, looking closely at Tom. “What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Tom said, shaking his head to underline his words. “It was a bad idea.”
“It was a great idea, except for the ‘not putting out’ part,” Bryce said. His eyes were serious on Tom’s. “What changed between one breath and the next?”
“I’m just not—I mean, I’m kind of crap at relationships,” he said. Which was a rather briefer explanation than Zack’s hour-long, bullet-pointed version.
Bryce’s eyes were soft on his and Tom didn’t know what it was he’d seen. But then his smile grew brighter. “Well then, we’ll just be crap together,” he said, and the way he made it sound so easy quieted Tom’s panic. He could do this. They could do this.
“Though I agree you’ve got ground to make up if you think smearing mouse droppings on me makes for a good first date,” Bryce added.
“Rat,” Tom said, happiness surging in him until he felt he could fly.
“What?”
“They were rat droppings. Mouse shit is strictly second-date material. God, you really are crap at this, aren’t you?”
Bryce laughed, and the life, the happiness, the warmth in his face was everything Tom had tumbled headlong in love with. He curved his hand around the back of Bryce’s neck and drew him in for a kiss, and the ease of it almost undid him.
When they finally parted, Bryce’s eyes were shining. “This is what I want,” he said softly. “You. You’re everything I want.”
Tom closed his eyes, and let the words land in his heart. Forever.
“Me too,” he said quietly.
And the sun set over the city below, unnoticed.