Chapter 13
ASH
Ash, Ryder, and Everett watched Spencer shimmy out to the dance floor, where he promptly downed his drink with a whoop and started grinding the closest group of bodies. Unsurprisingly, the group of bodies began grinding him right the fuck back.
Ash observed it with a detached sort of jealousy.
He wasn’t worried about Spencer doing anything, but it would have been more satisfying if Ash could have had his scent all over him.
Maybe some well-placed hickeys too. People already knew Ryder belonged to Ash—they were too attached at the hip for that not to be a fact—but Spencer was another story.
For the first time, Ash felt himself getting impatient for his presentation to be done with—not just for the hell that was inconvenient heats to be finished, but for what might be waiting for him on the other side.
“I’m dizzy just watching him,” Everett commented.
Ash shrugged. “He has that effect on people.”
Everett cocked his head as Spencer did some ridiculous move that had his back bent almost to the floor. “You’re not worried about letting him off his leash?”
It was Ryder who answered, “Puppy needs his enrichment time.”
Ash shot him a savage grin. “Well put.”
Everett took his eyes off Spencer to blink between the two of them. “Damn,” he said after a moment. “Double alphas for your heats. You’re really doing this thing with flair.”
Ash shrugged. “You don’t ever double up?
” He knew it wasn’t super common, but it also wasn’t unheard of.
Eli had told him once that there were plenty of cultures with a history of pack-like romantic structures, usually multiple alphas with one omega and maybe a beta.
Eli even lectured about it in his courses.
Everett grimaced into his drink. “I use meds. Not gonna give some drooling frat boy alpha the reins.” He glanced at Ryder. “No offense.”
Ryder smirked at him. “None taken. I’m not in a frat.”
Ash considered telling Everett that he had no complaints about college alphas. There might have been drooling during his heats, but Ash was pretty sure it was mostly on his end. And the benefits …
There’d been a moment during his heat on Monday, after they’d finally made it into the apartment, when Ash had been held in Ryder’s arms, his back to Ryder’s chest, while Spencer had folded Ash like a pretzel and pounded into him.
Ash had been suffocating on alpha pheromones, in the very best way, caged in by sweat-soaked muscles.
It had been like being transported into another dimension, one where Ash was nothing but a dumb, cum-drunk receptacle for alpha cock.
Not a dimension Ash would have ever thought he’d be interested in, but it had definitely had its merits.
Ash cleared his throat and flopped down on the couch. Nah. No need to share that shit. That was just for him.
For the next few hours, Ash and Ryder occupied themselves people-watching and listening to Everett gossip about everyone in his and Ash’s program.
They had a decent time, even. Maybe going out hadn’t originally been in Ash and Ryder’s plans tonight, but neither of them minded a party.
They might not have been in the thick of things like Spencer—who’d left the dance floor some time ago and gone out back, presumably to play some testosterone-fueled drinking games—but the ambience wasn’t total shit either.
Maybe Ash would feel differently when he was able to smell pheromones in full force, but right now it was just … interesting, catching those little hints of scent. The beginnings of a language he’d eventually speak as fluently as everyone else.
Ash had his head in Ryder’s lap, his legs kicked over the side of the couch, when Everett’s voice interrupted his pondering. “Enrichment time aside, you guys are trying to, like, claim Spencer, right?”
Ash nodded. “We are claiming him,” he said fiercely, not sure if it was the two beers or Everett’s natural chattiness that had him so loose-lipped. “He just doesn’t know it yet.”
Everett tilted his chin toward the edge of the dance floor. “Better go get your man, then.”
Ash sat up to look. “Why?”
Maybe Spencer was back to humping on the dance floor again, but it wasn’t like Ash was going to go tearing him off of it, not when there wasn’t any heat to what he was doing. Ash might get little twinges of omega jealousy, but logically he knew the difference.
But Spencer wasn’t in the thick of things on the dance floor. He was over in the corner, talking to that alpha or beta girl who Ash and Ryder had seen tearing into him on the steps at the start of classes. She didn’t look any friendlier this time around either.
“That’s Trish,” Everett said, eyes wide as he ogled the scene. “They hooked up last year. She’s been giving him a hard time lately.”
“Why the hell doesn’t he tell her to fuck off?” The words came out harsher than Ash had intended, but he didn’t like the look on Spencer’s face. There was no fight in it. He was just … taking whatever this chick dished out, however rancid it might be.
“He never does,” Everett said easily, like it was some sort of common knowledge. “I think it’s part of why people act so bitchy with him. He always puts up with it.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Haven’t you been paying attention?” Everett asked with a smug smile. “I know everything.”
Ash shared a look with Ryder, who’d already set down his soda. They gave each other a nod. “Let’s go.”
Together, they pushed through the crowd to get to Spencer and this Trish person.
There were a few partygoers clearly eavesdropping, not stepping in so much as surreptitiously filming the scene.
These were the same people who’d been happy to grind away with Spencer at the beginning of the night, now standing by while he was reamed mercilessly in public.
Even with the music blaring, Ash could hear Trish’s harsh tone as they approached, and it made his hackles go up.
“—why you have to act like I’m radioactive. You’re such a jerk. It was good. We were good. And then—” She broke off with a glare.
She was pretty; Ash would give her that. Long legs and flawless makeup and hair that could have been in a shampoo commercial. He didn’t catch any hint of scent, so he assumed she was maybe a beta after all.
Luckily for Ash’s temper, he didn’t really give a shit about any of that.
Spencer had his hands in his pockets and his eyes on his feet, a frozen smile on his face. “Yeah. Sorry, Trish. I—I kinda told you already. Just not interested.”
“You’re such a fucking slut, Spencer Philips. I—”
“Hey!” Ash cut in, not willing to listen to another second of the bullshit.
Spencer looked up at the interruption, and the shame in his gaze was un-fucking-acceptable. Ash stepped in front of him and stuck his finger in Trish’s precious personal space. “Is there a problem here?”
Trish blinked at him in the slow, stupid way that meant she’d had one too many drinks tonight. “It’s none of your business.”
“Actually, it is.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m a problem,” Ash said flatly. “Your problem.”
Trish stared at him for a moment, then seemed to decide any audience was better than no audience at all. “He should own up to—”
“You know what I think?” Ash interrupted, all nice and rhetorical-like. “I think because you have a pretty face and nice hair you think it makes up for your shitty personality. But it fucking doesn’t. You’re an asshole.”
Trish turned from Spencer and gave Ash the full force of her glare. “He’s the asshole.”
“It sounds like you were more than aware of his reputation. You knew what you were getting into. So fuck off before I make you.”
Trish gave Spencer a devastated look that was at least 90 percent acting. “You’re going to let him talk to me like this?”
Spencer gave her a dazed smile, no longer quite so frozen or false.
Ryder had crept forward until he was right behind him, and Spencer was clearly giving the other alpha the majority of his weight.
It looked like Trish wasn’t the only person who’d had one too many.
“It’s Ash,” Spencer said. “There’s no ‘letting.’”
Ash bared his teeth at Trish. “Exactly. So fuck. Off.”
Trish’s gaze darted around to the bystanders, even more of them filming the show now. She huffed and gave a flip of her hair, then whirled away to her pack of beta hangers-on.
Ash looked to the crowd. “Keep filming and I start smashing phones.”
Just like that, everyone was suddenly dancing again.
Ash stepped closer to Spencer. Ryder had an arm around his waist now, and Spencer wasn’t even pretending to stand on his own. “Have you had enough?”
Spencer gave him a sorry pout. “I lost at beer pong. Bishop was vicious tonight.”
“Come on. You’re sleeping at ours.”
Spencer nodded sleepily. Ash and Ryder exchanged a glance, then headed back to the TV room to check if Everett wanted a ride.
Parties were fine, but the night had soured for Ash. This bunch of idiots didn’t deserve Spencer’s enrichment time.
Bunch of assholes, all of them.
Ash scoffed when Spencer insisted on riding in the back seat.
“I wanna lay my head down if I wanna,” Spencer argued, the closest to petulant Ash had ever heard him.
For his part, Ash insisted on buckling Spencer in himself, because he didn’t trust the loose-limbed, bleary-eyed asshole to actually do it properly.
Spencer grinned at him in a vaguely lecherous way as Ash leaned inside the car and wrapped his arm around Spencer’s lap, trying to get at the buckle. “Aw, spitfire. You want to put your hands on me?”
Ash scowled at him, shoving the belt into place. “What was in those beer pong cups?”
“Some kind of punch.” Spencer smacked his lips loudly as his head thudded against the back of the seat. “Fruity.”
“Loaded,” Ash countered. Ryder grunted his agreement from the driver’s seat.
With Spencer safely shackled, Ash shut the door and darted around to the passenger’s side, climbing in and buckling himself. Everett had refused their ride, claiming he’d come to the party with another omega who’d take him home. “Let’s go.”
Ryder grunted again, and they were off.
Gym rat that he was, Spencer’s car should have smelled like terrible body spray or obnoxious air fresheners designed to mask the smell of sweat, but it didn’t.
It smelled like him, like his spiced-tea scent had been worked into the fabric over time.
It was the kind of car that would be classified as a beater by any discerning eye, but it was also clear Spencer took meticulous care of it. Bought cheaply and treated to last.
The car was silent until it wasn’t.
“Everyone hates me,” Spencer whined.
“No one hates you,” Ash told him without looking back. “No one that matters, anyway. And you shouldn’t let people talk to you like that.”
Ash caught Spencer’s half-hearted shrug in the rearview mirror. “Makes ’em feel better.”
“And what about you?”
“’M fine. S’okay if they hate me.”
“No one hates you.” Ash sighed loudly, then pulled out the big guns. “Noah and Chase don’t hate you.”
Spencer made a quiet, pleased sound that twisted something in Ash’s chest. “S’true.
They’re the best.” His eyes fell closed, his head drooping even further against the seat.
“Friends in high school were all douchebags. My family … My mom …” Spencer trailed off.
“But Noah and Chase are good. Decent. And they like me anyway. Really. S’like—you know, hookups are hookups.
What could they offer that Noah and Chase couldn’t? ”
Ash cleared his throat. “That’s annoyingly sweet.” And surprisingly coherent, despite the slurring. “Are you in love with my brother?”
He ignored the warning glance Ryder shot his way. Ash wasn’t any sort of saint, and he wasn’t above getting intel while Spencer was wasted. It had been Spencer’s idea to drag them to that party, anyway.
Spencer smiled with his eyes closed. “No. Do love him though. World would be a better place if everyone was a little in love with their best friends.”
Ash shot Ryder his own look. “I happen to agree.” He waited a beat, then asked. “So why don’t you date? Hookups are hookups, yeah, but dating’s different.”
Spencer was silent for a moment, and then he lurched forward, his dark head poking in between the front seats. Ash had a brief moment of panic that Spencer was about to hurl all over them, but then the alpha started talking. “Y’know how Noah and Eli met?”
“At the cabin?”
“I was s’posed to go. Bailed to get laid. Tha’s what I told Noah.”
Ash took that in. “But it wasn’t true?”
“It was a little cabin. Tiny house.” Spencer brought his thumb and forefinger together until they were barely a centimeter apart.
“Itty-bitty. You know. Jus’ me and Noah.
” Spencer gave Ash a meaningful look, but Ash could only frown at him in confusion.
Spencer rolled his eyes. “He’d get sick of me, you know?
The house is different, in and out and—and Chase is there.
But just us? Little cabin? Too much.” Spencer nodded to himself, like he was making the most sense in the world. “’M always too much.”
Noah and Chase were Spencer’s best friends in the entire world.
Spencer said as much all the goddamn time, to the point where Ash could have begged him to shut up about it.
And yet Spencer seemed to think that, underneath it all, Noah couldn’t handle him in close quarters.
That too much proximity—too much Spencer—would sour their bond.
Something deep and painful ached in Ash’s chest. Nobody should feel like they were a burden in that way. Not with the people they depended on, the people they revealed their true selves to.
Ash tried to keep his voice level. “I think you underestimate my brother.”
Spencer retreated to the back seat with a funny little laugh. “’M best in small doses. You know. You get it.”
Ash turned around with a start. “You think we only like you in small doses?”
But Spencer didn’t answer. He’d already closed his eyes again, his head lolling to the side like he’d been asleep for hours. He’d either passed out on a dime or he was done talking.
Ash could only stare, distraught, until a strong, warm hand tucked itself into his. Ryder’s gaze was on the road, but Ash could see the furrow in his brow. “It’s okay, bright eyes. We’ll fix it.”
It was a ridiculous thing to say. They couldn’t fix a person like that, as easily as Ryder fixed his goddamn cars.
But then again, when had Ash and Ryder ever been particularly reasonable? Ash settled back in his seat and pressed his free hand to his chest, trying to ease the ache.
Yeah. Why the hell not? They’d fix it.