Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Of course my mates planned a surprise party.
They’re always extra for my birthday, buying me over-the-top gifts or taking me on whirlwind adventures.
Laughter and warmth surround me as I move between our friends and family. Those who could make the trip to New York to join us.
It’s impossible to feel unloved when they’re here.
So why am I so nervous I’m sweating?
My hair sticks to the back of my neck, and my hands shake as I listen to Bellamy’s younger brother, Claude. Butterflies swarm in my stomach, so rambunctious I’m afraid I might be sick.
“You good, bubbles?” Onyx asks, pressing himself against my back. I lean against him, brows furrowed as I try to steal his strength and sort through my wayward emotions.
“I don’t know.”
He hums, arms wrapping around me, but doesn’t ask me to explain. Which is weird because my Alpha never lets me get away without a thorough explanation when he senses I’m feeling off kilter.
Before I can question his lack of response, someone buzzes at the gate. An older black car pulls up the driveway, and my nervousness grows.
It stops near the door, just behind our SUV. Whoever is inside doesn’t immediately climb out. They sit there long enough I expect Onyx to march outside and demand to know who they are.
The breath whooshes from my lungs when the door finally opens and Caleb steps out.
My squeak of surprise startles Bellamy’s family, their conversation coming to an abrupt stop. “S-sorry,” I stammer, feet already moving across the dining room and toward the foyer.
They invited Caleb? And he actually showed up?
I swing the door open before he can knock, startling him as he stands with his hand raised. “Hi.”
“H-hey. Uh, happy birthday?”
He’s so handsome. His bleach-blonde hair is curlier than ever, hanging down over his head and covering part of his face. Uncertainty and something else flash through his steel-blue eyes as he studies me intensely.
He’s wearing a cut-off plaid shirt over a Primordial Covenant band tee. The material stretches across his chest, highlighting just how much he’s bulked up over the years.
“Thanks?”
Why my response comes out as a question, I’m not sure.
“Come in. Please.”
He steps through the open door and takes in the foyer. Swallowing thickly, his eyes drag back to me, and he fumbles the gift bag in his hand, swearing as it drops to the floor. His hands shake as he kneels down to pick it up.
Is Caleb nervous?
…Caleb’s nervous. His face is red and his grip on the bag slips again, sending it back to the floor.
He’s nervous.
The words echo in my head, over and over and over and-
A tear falls from my eye, slowly trailing down my cheek. Caleb’s eyes widen with panic when he straightens and sees me crying. “Skye?”
Arms grip my shoulders, and the warmth of Onyx’s smoky charcoal and pencil shaving scent falls over me like a weighted blanket. “She’s okay,” he rumbles, pushing me forward until I’m pressed against Caleb’s chest, who stands frozen, barely blinking, let alone breathing.
“She’s just realizing what you did at the hotel in Portland.”
“You didn’t tell her?” Caleb questions, looking away from me to meet Onyx’s eyes.
“She deserved to find out for herself. When you finally pulled your head out of your ass.” Displeasure laces Onyx’s voice.
Caleb’s eyes drop, the acidic notes of shame entering his basil and black suede scent.
I can’t stop my tears, small sobs ripping from my chest at the overwhelming flood of emotions. Caleb is my Fate-matched mate. A dream we thought was impossible.
He’s mine.
Or he’s supposed to be mine, because he’s known I was his for weeks and he…
He left me.
Again.
Calloused fingers brush my cheeks, wiping the moisture away. “I’m so sorry, bunny. Please don’t cry.” His old nickname for me slips off his tongue with ease, and I cry harder.
We lost so many years.
Why didn’t we just wait a little longer?
Standing there, wrapped in his arms, I let myself mourn the time we lost. Then I dry my eyes and press my chin to his chest. There’s no use clinging to what could have been when we still have a lifetime left together.
Onyx studies me when I spin around, nodding at whatever he sees in my eyes. “Let Sly know when you’re ready to eat.” He leaves us alone in the foyer, heading back into the fray of people.
Peeking at Caleb over my shoulder, I offer him my hand. He stares before taking it. That tiny touch is like a live wire bouncing through my body and lighting up every nerve ending. So good it hurts.
Time passes in delirious waves as we celebrate. Eating the wings and fries Sly prepared for us. Our guests eye Caleb curiously, but no one pulls me aside to ask who he is or why he’s glued to my side.
Deep down, they probably already know. It’s not like the rest of my mates would let a stranger hover this close to me for so long.
My friend and fellow musician, Dante, is talking to me, his mate leaning against his side. Apparently, he’s been offered a spot as the host of the popular television show First Glance Pack. The Beta who held the job through the current season had to retire early because of health issues.
“That’s a big score,” Caleb comments. “I know the show has a massive fan base. My manager and her best friend are obsessed with it.”
Dante agrees, talking about what the job would entail, but my eyes slip to the kitchen. Despite all the delicious food I had earlier, I’m still hungry.
“What are you thinking about?” Caleb’s breath is hot against my ear. His arm shifts to wrap around my hip as he leans close to whisper to me, and I have to bite back a groan. “It’s the cake, isn’t it? It’s calling to you.”
Pursing my lips, I narrow my eyes at him. His breath hitches, our faces so close he can feel the flutter of my eyelashes as I blink. “And if it is?”
His lips feather across my cheek, the barest hint of a touch that leaves me craving more. “Then I say we find Sterling and let him know you’re ready for something sweet.”
“I’m ready for something,” I grumble as he pulls away. Heat fills his blue-gray eyes, but he forcefully clears his throat and turns away. It’s not like anyone would notice if we snuck away to reunite after eight years apart.
Okay, they totally would, but it would be worth it.
Sterling and Onyx are in the living room with Quentin and his sister.
“Cake time?”
“Sure thing, precious.” Sly pushes to his feet, towering over me by a solid foot. He grins and pats my ass as he heads into the kitchen.
As I stand in our dining room, surrounded by my family, my friends, my mates, and my first love, I close my eyes and blow out my candles.
My only wish is for more of this. Forever.
Exhaustion hits me as I wave goodbye to Bellamy’s siblings. The only guests left are Emmett’s brother, Oskar, who will likely pass out in the sitting room with Emmett, and Caleb.
Tonight was fun. We laughed, we played games, and we just enjoyed ourselves. Relaxing is easy when my family, friends, and mates surround me.
Swaying a little, I sigh when Quentin presses himself against my back, steadying me. I love how contented his lemon and summer rain scent is. It reminds me of a glass of sweet lemonade shared on the porch during an early August storm.
“I should head out.”
One sentence uttered from Caleb’s lips and all the happiness drains from my body, panic quickly replacing it.
He wants to leave?
But this is his home now. We’re his pack.
Unless he doesn’t want us.
The thought stings, turning the ache in my heart into a searing burn. Bile rises in my throat, and darkness dots my vision.
“You can stay,” Quentin offers. “We have a guest room.”
Caleb glances out across the driveway. “Uh.”
Q’s hand shifts to my back and pushes me forward into the other man’s arms. “Stay,” I beg, a whine trapped behind the words. “Please.”
Preferably forever, but I’ll take tonight if that is all he is ready for.
He rocks on his heels, watching me. “If that’s what you want, bunny.”
I wrap my arms around his stomach and bury my face against his chest to hide how terrified I am he’ll walk away again. My sound of relief is muffled by his body, but he feels me relax and a rough purr rumbles to life. I melt like an ice cream cone in a hundred-degree heatwave.
Standing here with his scent wrapped around me and his purr vibrating against my cheek, it’s like we time-traveled back to when we were eighteen. To a time when I thought it was us against the world.
“Let’s get you inside,” Quentin comments, holding the door open for us. Part of me is afraid Caleb will change his mind about staying, and I can’t convince my arms to unwind from his waist. “You may need to carry her.”
Of course, my Alpha knows what I need before I can vocalize it.
Caleb shifts me into his arms, giving me access to his throat and the heady strength of his scent straight from the source. I moan as I bury my face against him. This is heaven.
Someone chuckles behind us, but I don’t move to see who it is. I never want to leave this spot.
My eyes flutter closed, the warmth of his body lulling me into a light sleep. Even as he sits down, shuffling me until I’m spread across his chest, I barely stir. Only when he tries to pull away do I wake up.
“No,” I whine, dragging him back against me.
What can I say? I’m a needy Omega who is used to getting what she wants.
And right now, what I want is my Caleb.
Fingers trail over my skin. The touch feather-soft.
Uncertain. They pause on the scar on my elbow from a bike accident in sixth grade.
I flipped over the handlebars in Macy Patterson’s driveway and crashed into the gravel.
Caleb’s mom patched me up while he held my hand and his little sister snuck me a popsicle out of their freezer.
“Mom misses you,” he whispers. “Every time I call her, she’s telling me about some article she found online about you.
She’s so damn proud. Tells the entire neighborhood about your successes.
Cara does too. All her friends came over to watch parties when you were on that season of Musical Disguises. ”
“I know,” I mumble. “She sent me pictures of the themed food they brought.”
His exploration stalls, breath hitching. “You know?”
“Mhmm. We talk at least once a month.”
“You and Cara talk?”
Nudging his hand so he’ll continue drawing patterns onto my skin, I nod. “And your mom.”
The Michaels have been a second family to me since elementary school. Does he think I cut them off just because we split up?
“They never told me.”
Lifting one shoulder, I don’t reply. I never asked them to keep our communication a secret.
After a short bout of silence, he whispers again, his tone lined with longing and regret. “I’m glad you kept in touch with them.”
Me too, I want to respond, but my eyes are heavy and he’s so warm, sleep reclaims me before I can push the words out.