Chapter 15 #2
"He can purr," I say. "That weird rumble of his.
She closes her eyes when she hears it, Malcolm.
Like it reaches her in a way nobody else can.
" I pause. "And she's not scared of him.
" I shake my head. "Do you understand how significant that is?
Every omega who's ever crossed paths with Rhys has been terrified of him.
He's accepted it, made peace with it. And Arden said she just—walked up to him and put her hand in his like it was the most natural thing she'd ever done. "
Malcolm is quiet for a long time.
"We always thought the flag was the end of it," he says finally. "But then the stars aligned anyway. In this specific, impossible, complicated way. Just enough for it to maybe actually work."
"If Chase gets the flag lifted."
"If Chase gets the flag lifted," Malcolm agrees.
"And if Rhys keeps improving."
"He will." Malcolm says it with a certainty that sounds like something older than hope. "She's good for him, Finn. I’ve been watching him. Every time she’s in the room he gets—calmer. Even when I was getting on his nerves with the cheese thing—"
I laugh. "The cheese thing."
"It wasn't just irritation. It was normal irritation. The kind a guy feels when someone takes something off his omega's plate, not the other kind." Malcolm pauses. "You know what I mean."
I know what he means. The other kind is what happens when Rhys encounters a strange alpha in the wrong circumstances. The kind of irritation that doesn't stay irritation.
"She settled him," I say.
"One look," Malcolm says. "A word. A touch. That's all it takes. You saw it."
I did see it. Vee's hand on his arm in the kitchen. How the tension went out of his shoulders immediately. Like a switch.
"What if she doesn't want me?" The question slips out. "Not because I'm not an alpha. Just because I'm not enough."
Malcolm snorts. "Have you seen the way she looks at you?"
"She looks at all of us."
"Not the same way she looks at you." Malcolm's grin is visible even in the dark. "She watches you like she's trying to figure out how you do it. How you keep everything running. She's fascinated by you, man."
"That's not—"
"And today? When you couldn't get the printer to stop jamming and she helped you fix it?" Malcolm shakes his head. "She was glowing, Finn. She likes being the one who has answers. She likes working with you."
I think about this morning. How she leaned over my shoulder, the small smile when she fixed the loose screw in the printer tray. The comfortable rhythm we fell into when she stuck around to help with more.
"What if it's not enough?" I ask again, quieter.
"Then it's not enough,” he says. "But you won't know unless you try. And sitting here drowning in insecurity isn't going to change anything."
"Harsh."
"True."
I take another drink, the bottle is almost empty now.
"I'm terrified," I admit.
"Of what?"
"That she'll pick us. That Chase will get the flag lifted and we'll bond her and then one day she'll wake up and realize she settled." The words pour out. "That she could have had a pack of three or more alphas but instead she got three alphas and a beta who can't give her half of what she needs."
Malcolm is quiet for a long moment.
"You really think that's how she sees you?" he asks finally.
I shake my head, not a denial, just an honest answer.
"Well I do,” Malcolm says. "You're the guy who texted her in the middle of the night when her light was on, just to ask if she wanted to bake cookies. She remembers that kind of thing. That's not nothing."
"That's not the same as wanting—"
"It's better." Malcolm cuts me off. "Trust me, Finn. It's better."
Movement on the back porch makes us both turn.
Alex stands there in the shadows, arms crossed over his chest. The porch light is off but I can make out his silhouette.
My heart drops into my stomach.
How long has he been standing there? Did he hear what I said about being relieved when he got the flag?
Alex doesn't say a word. He just stands there looking at us, then he turns and walks back inside, the door closing behind him.
"Fuck," I breathe. "He heard—"
Malcolm claps my shoulder, his hand heavy and warm. "Don't worry about it, buddy. He knows what's in your heart."
I stare at the door Alex just disappeared through. My chest feels tight.
"I should go talk to him," I say, starting to stand.
Malcolm's hand on my shoulder pushes me back down. "Not tonight. You're drunk, he's probably tired, and nothing good comes from conversations like that at midnight."
"But—"
"Later, Finn. Talk to him later when you're both sober and rested." Malcolm picks up the now-empty bottle and stands. "Come on. Let's get some sleep."
I follow him inside, my legs unsteady from the whiskey and everything I just said out loud.
The house is dark and quiet. Vee's door is closed. So is Alex's.
Rhys's light is still on.
I stand in the hallway looking at the thin strip of light under his door. I don't know what he does in there at night. We've never asked. But somehow knowing he's awake in there, probably just sitting with himself the way he does, makes the house feel less heavy.
I stare at Alex's door, wanting to knock. Wanting to explain.
Malcolm's right though. Not tonight.
I go to my own room and close the door and sit on the edge of my bed in the dark.
The whiskey has made everything fuzzy but the shame is still sharp. Sharp enough to cut through the alcohol haze. Sharp enough to keep me awake long after I should have fallen asleep.
I was relieved when Alex got flagged.
I was relieved and now he knows it.
And tomorrow I'm going to have to look him in the eye and figure out if Malcolm is right. If Alex really does know what's in my heart.
Or if I just destroyed something I can't fix.
Down the hall, Rhys's light goes out.
The house settles into dark and quiet.
I lie back and stare at the ceiling.
The stars aligned, I told Malcolm.
Maybe they did.
Just not in any of the ways we planned.