Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
“Come on, Jemma. I know you want the fancy biscuits. Just do the trick for me.”
I stop short at the statement, my body just barely out of frame as I see Kit sitting on his knees, waving tiny beige treats in front of Jemma’s face.
She gives him a bored meow, knowing she’s going to get those treats whether she does the trick or not.
I swallow down the laugh in my throat and watch as Kit gets more frustrated.
“See, just like this.” He lies down completely and rolls all the way over, mimicking what he wants her to do. He does it again, all while keeping eye contact with her, and she just watches with indifference. He sighs heavily and sits back up.
“Okay, one more time.” He takes one of the treats and puts it in front of her nose.
Her expression doesn’t change as he pulls the treat to the floor to get her to lie down.
She doesn’t take the bait, however, and starts to lick her paw in an act of defiance.
Or boredom, I can’t tell which one it is.
Patience flies out of his body so fast. “Fine! Be that way. I’ll eat the treats myself then.”
I accidentally let out my amusement, a laugh tumbling free at Kit’s statement. His head whips to me, but instead of annoyance, he gives me a bashful smile.
“Don’t sneak up on me,” he says, but there’s no actual malice in it. His scent blooms, and I make note of his flushing cheeks, wondering how I caused such a pretty color to grow on his skin. Something deep below likes the rosiness of it, but I cough to clear my thoughts.
“I wasn’t aware I was sneaking. My body isn’t made for tip-toeing.”
He tuts at me sarcastically. “Yeah, you really ‘fee-fi-fo-fum’ all over the place, don’t you?”
My laugh is sincere and he smiles widely at that. I think he likes hearing me laugh almost as much as I like seeing him flustered.
“You’re not really going to eat those, are you?” I ask, pointing at the cat treats.
He looks confused, but then remembers what he said and shakes his head in mortification. “Oh my god, no! Not at all. But, these treats were expensive, so I need to figure out how to get her to do the trick, or they’ll be a waste.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re going to end up giving them to her anyway,” I joke.
“Shut up, I will not,” he says, crossing his arms. “I am a disciplinary cat dad. I am not a pushover.”
Jemma walks into his line of sight then and gives the cutest meow. Kit stays firm, giving her a look that means ‘no,’ but then she plops down on her side and puts her paws up like she’s begging for the treats.
Kit’s eyes light up. “Oh my god! Look, Thatch, she’s trying,” he says. He coos at her as he’s taken over by her cuteness. “That’s definitely worth a treat. Look how good that was!”
I playfully roll my eyes as he gives her one of the biscuits. Jemma picks it up in her mouth and saunters away with extra attitude in her step. I give Kit a teasing look, but he doesn’t take the bait. He just smiles like he’s won the lottery.
I can’t even tease him about it anymore. He looks so happy.
“You’re right, she at least tried,” I lie. “You should try to get our new roommate to teach her. Jemma seems to like her a lot.”
Kit considers that, nodding his head, then he looks up at me from his spot on the floor. “Do you like Opal?”
The question surprises me. “What?”
“Like… do you see yourself liking her? She’s beautiful, smart. She’s gentle.” He shrugs. “And she’s an omega. If you don’t want to be with me, I’d still like you to be with someone who can make you happy, and maybe she can make you happy.”
The sentiment hits me like an arrow, pain soaring through my chest. I never considered how my confusion could cause Kit to hurt, but I see it as clear as day now. He does make me happy, the happiest I have ever been, but I haven’t been the best at expressing that. I don’t think I’ve even tried.
“I do like her. She’s amazing, and maybe she could make me happy,” I say sincerely, crossing my arms as I feel a need to protect my center.
I watch him carefully, but there isn’t any notion that he’s being ingenuous or that he hates the idea of me being with Opal.
That makes me arch a brow before I continue.
“But—” The word is a garbled mess, but I shake it off and continue.
“You do make me happy. You’re my omega.”
Kit’s eyes widen with surprise. “Okay,” he replies, getting up from his spot on the floor. “That’s good to know. I assumed you enjoyed my presence a little bit, but I’m glad I make you happy in some regards.”
I shake my head. “No, not like that. I mean, you make me happy as a friend, too, but that’s not what I’m trying to say.
” My hand immediately goes to the back of my neck in distress.
“I meant…” I try again and stop short. He’s watching me, listening intently, and waiting patiently.
I feel like a mess as I work through the way I’m feeling, but he stands strong, considerate in every way.
“You make me happy when you fiddle with your hoodie strings,” I start, the words finally flowing like water.
“You make me happy when you burn freaking scrambled eggs, and when you play your TV a tiny bit too loud because, for some reason, it helps you concentrate. You make me happy when you ask about my hockey schedule and when you leave your shoes by the door after a long day, and when you let me sniff whatever candle you’re about to light just to make sure the scent doesn’t bother me.
“You’re one of the most caring people I’ve ever met.
You always check to make sure we’ve locked the doors at night.
You keep the pantry stocked with my favorite protein powder even though I’ve never asked you to do so, and it touches me every day to look and see that you’ve added more to it. And in Connecticut—”
Kit holds his breath, momentarily stunned by my confession, his scent bursting with anticipation.
“When you held my hand, it was the happiest I have ever felt. I’ve never felt this way about anyone in my life. But the thought that you didn’t know that… that’s unbearable. I need you to know what you mean to me.”
“What do I mean to you?” he asks.
“You’re my first everything.” The sentence is stuttered, the truth scary on my tongue, but it also brings a bout of relief.
“Holy shit,” he whispers. A sheen coats his rich green eyes as he inhales sharply, finally breathing in some air.
I continue, “Kit. I was afraid before. But my biggest mistake was not letting you in on why I was afraid.”
“You can tell me anything.”
I know that now, which is why—when I open my mouth, and the truth flies out—it finally feels easy.
“I’m demisexual. I’ve never been with anyone. I don’t know how to react to it or go through the motions, because this has never happened before.”
I swallow as Kit’s eyes flash with something, like he’s seeing me for the first time. “Thatcher… I would have never rushed or judged you.”
My head shakes on its own, unsure. “I know that. You’ve always been educated and understanding, even more than me, which is why it’s been hard. I don’t fully understand it or myself. I still don’t know what it means for me, but I think I’m ready to try. Rather than running away from it.”
He gets closer, so close the heat of his body pushes up against my skin in a soft caress.
“I want us to try again,” I whisper. “But if it’s too late, I understand. I just couldn’t go another second without telling you how I feel. How I know I feel this time.”
He nods, a gentle smile appearing as he wipes a tear from his eye. “I’d like nothing more than to try again. Can I hug you?”
The words aren’t even out when I pull him into me, desperate for his skin against mine.
When he rests his face in the crook of my shoulder and sighs, my alpha feels content for the first time in my life.
There’s a shaking then, a vibration that feels foreign as my chest revs into a purr.
I could cry as it stirs into a steady rhythm.
Here I was, worried that I’d never get to have this, when the opportunity for it was sitting right in front of my face.
Kit burrows himself into me further, finding himself at home in my arms.
“Don’t give up on me, yet,” I say quietly into his curls.
“I never have,” he whispers back, and my heart melds back together with the words. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, and now I need to do whatever I can to show my omega that I mean it.