Chapter 7 #3
He’d rubbed it in, kissed it off my lips, and now he’s holding me, running his nose up and down my throat, scenting me.
It’s so unbelievably nice, I could almost purr. I’ve never purred before, but if he keeps this up, I’m going to start.
Leo chuckles, and it rumbles through me where we’re pressed together. He’s a warm weight, shielding me from the world.
“What?” I ask and scratch my short nails against his scalp.
He brings his face out from between my shoulder and throat, a smile I know well on his face. It’s warm, light—it’s the same smile that used to make me lose all train of thought when we were in high school.
“Do you remember when we snuck out on New Year’s?”
I groan and try to cover my face. Leo grabs my hand and pulls it back. He shifts to the side, props his head in his hand, and clasps mine with his other one, resting our joined palms over my heart.
“No, no, none of that,” he says, laughter in his voice.
“Why would you remind me?” I whine.
Leo laughs, then leans down to kiss me—a quick peck of his lips like we’ve been doing it all our lives. “It was cute.”
“Ugh.” I groan and squeeze my eyes shut.
We’d snuck out with a bottle of vodka stolen from my father’s stash.
At seventeen, and having never had a drink in my life, by the time we’d made it to the beach where we had our bonfires—a ten minute walk from my place—I’d been staggering and falling against Leo’s side.
I remember the thick band of his arm hauling me up, his laughter as he stopped me from falling on my face.
His voice had been soft, amused, when he’d said, “Don’t worry, Addie, I’ll never let you fall. ”
“Too cute,” he says now, with a grin in his voice.
I open my eyes and scowl at him.
He laughs. Maybe he’s being kind by not reminding me of how I’d climbed into his lap once we were sitting on the beach, curled around him like a monkey and rubbed my scent all over his throat as if we were mates.
“It wasn’t cute,” I object and hope he doesn’t bring it up.
His smile softens, but his scent turns nervous. “I never told you, but ah, I kinda thought I had a real chance after that night.”
I can’t help it, I crack up. He had a chance? He could’ve taken me when we were fourteen and I would’ve said yes. A chance? He was a foregone conclusion.
“You did,” I say anyway.
And his smile widens, but it’s tinged with regret.
“I never would’ve done anything while you were drunk, but I wish … I wish I’d said something after,” he says.
I take a deep breath. The atmosphere has shifted, heavier now with all those times he didn’t say anything.
I presented for him shortly after. I felt like I was so obvious.
I’ve lived with the belief he never wanted me, was waiting to make a better match regardless of the fated nature of our scents.
I knew his father wanted that. But Leo wasn’t particularly close to the man, so if he’d wanted something else, wanted me, I’d been confident he’d go for it.
“Why didn’t you?” I ask him, because I have to know.
“Addie.” He says my name like an apology and looks away. “Everyone wanted you,” he goes on, like he’s thought about this a lot. The words have a practiced quality to them. “And you were, I don’t know … nice to everyone. I didn’t want to make a move until I was sure and I …”
“You what?” A fear is building inside me—I have to know if he wasn’t right there with me, like I’ve been fearing since he rejected me. If it really was all in my head.
“I was scared,” he finishes and meets my eyes. I can tell he’s forcing himself to do it, that he feels ashamed of this. “I was scared that if I was wrong, I’d lose you as a friend. And you’re my best friend, so I couldn’t risk it.”
I sigh and rub my eyes. “I would’ve said yes. Jesus, Leo. I would’ve let you have everything, right away. Claim, a baby, all of it.”
Leo makes a punched out noise. I drop my hands.
“Fuck, I was so stupid,” he says and kisses me. His hand trails down to my belly, his fingers splaying on the flat skin.
I meet his kiss. There’s an urgency to it.
And a sadness. Because it’s all pointless now.
I’m here and here I’ll stay. And Leo will leave—after tonight, tomorrow night, next week—the when doesn’t matter because the fact remains, he will leave.
He can’t keep buying every night, not only because he doesn’t have the money, but because someone will notice eventually and put a stop to it.
Omegas can’t entertain the same alpha indefinitely, it’s a recipe for disaster—alphas get attached.
They think the omega wants them for real, then they challenge one of our alphas and it ends in a bloody mess.
Leo and I have had two full nights, and we’ll be lucky to get away with a third, but we won’t fly under the radar for much longer.
Leo’s dad, his alpha, will put a stop to it if that doesn’t happen first. It’s too late for us.
So I kiss him with everything I’ve got and hope he takes this with him … how much I love him, how much I will always love him.