Chapter 10 Kieran
KIERAN
I’D LONG ACCEPTED the fact that no matter how many years I was alive or how many fellow students and coworkers and clients at the shop I dealt with, people would always be a mystery to me. Jordy was the most confusing human I’d ever dealt with, but everyone else wasn’t too far behind.
I definitely appreciated all the new clients and business, but the fact that people were willing to travel to get tattooed by the same person that had tattooed their favorite internet celebrity was totally baffling.
One overenthusiastic girl was so excited about it, I’d felt the need to remind her that everything gets disinfected between clients, so it wasn’t like she was actually being stabbed by the same needle as him or anything.
Part of me felt like an imposter, like I didn’t really deserve all the praise and recognition just because I’d lucked out and some beloved video game streamer had stumbled into my shop.
But with all the new comments on my art, it was sort of becoming harder and harder to feel that way.
Even though it was good, it was a lot for my brain to process and deal with.
But who was I to judge anyone for being obsessed with some internet guy? I could barely go 10 minutes without thinking about my stepbrother, no matter how much I had going on or how busy I was. Ten minutes was probably overestimating it. Five minutes. Two, if I was alone.
My feelings were evolving in the wrong direction entirely.
No matter how much I reminded myself that I wasn’t allowed to want him, it seemed to only get worse and worse.
I’d completely screwed myself by losing control the day I’d caught him in my room.
He’d always been the most desirable person alive to me, but now that I’d actually touched his delectable body and felt his tight little virgin channel throbbing around my fingers, I didn’t think I could want a different omega ever again.
It only made everything more difficult and painful, something I’d once thought would have been impossible.
Things had been calm since then, but the way he looked at me was like mental torture.
I knew exactly what he was telling me without him needing to say it.
He would let me do anything to him. He’d do anything to me that I wanted him to.
And he didn’t feel embarrassed or ashamed about it like he probably should have. Or like I did.
Liking me, or wanting to fuck me, or whatever exactly was going on in his head, didn’t seem to bother him at all. It was like he didn’t even register that it was screwed up. Part of me wished I could have that mindset about it, but that would make me an even worse person.
“Dude?” Ritchie’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and I remembered where I was. “You want another beer?”
“Nah, I’m good,” I said. “I’m heading out soon.”
“Everything good?” He questioned. “You’re totally spacing out.”
“I’m good. Just a lot to think about.”
“Alright,” he answered, shrugging. Ritchie was always good for that. He didn’t nag or push the issue.
We’d been friends since middle school. Back then we’d been edgy little brats, always complaining about the popular crowd and how shallow and annoying they were.
It got harder for me to feel that way once Jordy was in high school.
But to be fair, he didn’t have those stuck-up, judgmental qualities I’d always hated in my classmates.
I was comfortable with Ritchie, but he was a beta. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t understand the weird shit that was going on between Jordy and I and it’d be awkward to try and explain. Which still left me with no one I could really vent to or seek advice from.
“Bring me back a souvenir from your trip,” he requested, grinning when I snorted.
“Yeah, I can probably spring for a candy bar or something. Maybe,” I added.
“After all we’ve been through,” he replied, shaking his head somberly.
“Alright. A shell from the beach. Take it or leave it.”
“It better be one of those ones that you can hear the ocean in.”
“Deal.”
It was already starting to get dark as I walked home, the sun sinking down into the horizon to leave cool dusk.
Shoving my hands in the pocket of my hoodie, I made my way down the quiet street.
I remembered how sketchy and dangerous walking around by myself had been in the places I’d lived as a kid.
But nothing ever happened here. The most threatening presence in our neighborhood was the crotchety old lady who complained when anyone put their garbage cans out too early in the week.
Chester and my mom had bought this place right after getting married because they’d wanted somewhere that was theirs, a fresh start.
I sometimes thought maybe it was also because Chester didn’t want Jordy thinking about his dead mom too much.
But I knew the place they’d lived before had been similar.
A safe, quiet neighborhood, full of well-to-do people with tidy little lives.
Jordy’s life hadn’t been perfect obviously, he’d experienced worse things than a lot of people, but he’d never understand where I’d come from, and what I’d endured.
I didn’t want him to understand. But maybe if he did, he wouldn’t be so obsessed with me.
Maybe he’d start to realize why us being together was a terrible idea and wasn’t ever going to happen.
Even though I’d spaced out through the whole walk home, muscle memory carried me to our front door.
When I went inside, I saw my mom and Chester cuddled up on the couch together, watching some nature documentary on the TV.
I raised my hand in a greeting, sailing past them into the kitchen, where Jordy was seated at the table.
He wasn’t eating or anything. Had he just been waiting for me to get home?
When he glanced up at me from his phone, the bright blue tone of his eyes hit me like a tangible force, igniting the memory of his perfect body squirming and writhing under me.
That was happening way too frequently now.
I could barely look at him without thinking about his naked body.
I could barely talk to him without remembering how his moans sounded when he’d come from my fingers in him.
If he felt the same way, he didn’t make it obvious.
“Hi, Kieran,” he greeted me innocently. He was so good at that. Just being normal and not overthinking everything and making it awkward and miserable. “How was work?”
“Fine.” My mom had already texted me that she’d made pasta for dinner, so I scooped out some of that from the tupperware in the fridge and put it in the microwave. “How was your day?”
I hated how careful I felt I had to be now.
Even despite the fact that I’d been attracted to him for so long, my relationship with Jordy had always been easy.
I’d started to realize that part of that was because some part of my brain had been absolutely certain that nothing would ever actually happen between us and he’d never know how I felt about him.
All of that safety and security and ease had crumbled once I’d drunkenly exposed too much of myself.
And there was no way to take it back. Would I just always feel awkward and unsure with him now, like I was walking on eggshells with every conversation?
“It was good. I just hung out with Dani. We went and bought some, like, furniture and cute stuff for the dorm.”
The fact that he was going to be rooming with Dani gave me a relief that I knew I wasn’t allowed to feel. But there was no stopping it. If he’d ended up with some random alpha roommate, I might have burned down the school. Still, I didn’t want him to know how deeply the news had affected me.
“That’s good,” I said casually, like I’d barely even processed his words.
He eyed me carefully, and I watched the corner of his lips perk up into an annoyingly smug little grin.
“Mhm.”
“What?” I snapped, without meaning to. I could just already tell the conversation was getting ready to veer in a direction that would end up aggravating me or turning me on. Usually both.
“Nothing,” he said quickly. “Just thinking.”
“About?” I knew he was baiting me into something, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking.
“College.”
“Oh.” If that was all, then I wasn’t too worried.
Not that I had much experience with it. I’d done a year of community college before ultimately deciding to devote myself full time to tattooing.
The art classes I’d taken had been alright, and I’d learned some stuff when I hadn’t been falling asleep from working all the time on top of it.
No dorms, no wild parties, no random hookups.
Okay, maybe I was slightly worried. “What about it?”
He shrugged, blinking his long eyelashes at me. “I don’t know. I’m just not sure what to expect.”
“Are you nervous?”
“No,” he answered, before pushing out his lips a little like he was in thought. “I’m excited, I think.”
“Excited for what?”
“Um, I don’t know. Meeting people and stuff.”
“Forget about meeting people,” I said, frowning. “You’re there to study and learn.”
He snorted out a laugh, giving me an odd look. “Did you forget who you’re talking to?” He wondered, probably pointing out the irony of a screw-up like me pseudo-lecturing the damn valedictorian about studying.
I didn’t know why the hell I’d even said anything.
Except I did know, and it was because I hated the idea of him meeting guys at college.
Not only because I knew exactly what they would want from him, but because they’d be a better partner for him than I ever could be.
It was like my brain couldn’t decide whether I wanted him to move on from me and get with someone that could actually make him happy, or if I wanted him to be chained to me forever, miserable or not.
“I’m just saying,” I grumbled, because I didn’t have much of a defense. “Don’t act like some crazy party boy and get yourself into trouble just because you’re out of the house.”