Chapter 21 Timber
Timber
Imade Luke sit down and watch me, mainly because nerves jump around my body like firecrackers.
It’s easier to have my back to him when I chop vegetables as he sits at the bar table across from the stove.
It’s the exact chair that I came on when I tasted his slick for the first time.
Is it weird that it fills me with a sense of pride that my omega chose that seat?
I have the cookbook open, and all I need to do is prepare the vegetables, fry them, make the sauce, and bake them, but my hands are shaking too hard. I can barely peel a fucking carrot.
When was the last time I actually confessed to someone? Or cooked a meal?
Even with my ex-wife, it just sort of happened. There was no buildup to it because I was so sure about my feelings at the time. But Luke stays silent, and the air is thick around us.
I want to lift the mood, but whenever I glance at him, he looks distant. I haven’t seen him smile once since I came back from the game and asked him where he was.
I focus on slicing the carrot diagonally and refuse to think about how he came running out of his room red-faced, dragging down the bottom of his shirt, and throwing a scarf around his neck. I’m pretty sure I saw a navel piercing from the bottom of the stairs, which is also hounding me.
I want to ask him so badly what he was doing alone in his room—his nest—that made him look like that.
Luke sighs, and I jump, the carrot slipping out of my hand and thumping to the floor.
Standing there, holding my knife, I stare at the green chopping board like I’ve made a huge mistake. It’s my chance to ask him to stay with me, and I’m already failing.
I don’t realize he’s next to me until there’s a smooth chuckle from my left.
“Do you want me to help?” he asks as he places the carrot back on the chopping board, his shoulder brushing my upper arm.
I wish I could scent him, because he’s drawing in a slow breath as his gaze fixes on my hands. I don’t miss the way he softens, and he leans into me.
His fingers sweep over mine as he eases the knife from my grip, offering me a potato to peel before taking over carrot duties.
I thought the silence would be even worse together like this, but his smile is gentle as we stay glued together and prepare the food.
My heart beats grow louder the longer I peel potatoes, and watch with wide eyes as Luke chops a carrot up so quickly that I can barely follow the knife.
“It takes practice, dear Timber,” Luke hums as he catches me staring, tapping the tip of the knife against his lip piercing. “Like all good things, you just have to keep at it until it feels natural, hm?” He tilts his head as he lowers the knife, and I want his smile to mean more than it should.
The unpeeled potatoes are in a bowl right in front of Luke, and I decide to give it a go. It’s one very last test, just to make sure. If he doesn’t react, I’ll give up my idea of telling him how I feel.
I lean forward, my chest pushing against his arm as I bend over him. He squeaks, and I flinch, because I never thought I’d hear Luke make a noise like that.
As I pluck a potato from the bowl, his face presses into my chest, and the smallest muffled moan echoes from him.
And there it is. The thing I’ve been waiting for. What I’ve been chasing after since I first smelled it.
The scent of Luke’s slick rises up from him, and I shudder as I pull away.
He gasps as I free him from my chest, and he’s blushing hard as he dips his head and furiously cuts another carrot at lightning speed.
Even if he hides his feelings, he can’t hide his slick. It gives me the boost of confidence I need.
I place my peeler on the board, taking a slow breath. You’d think I’d be over things like this at my age.
“Luke,” I say, and he stiffens. I wait for him to turn to me. Even though his face is blank, I won’t let him pretend he isn’t feeling it, too.
He slides away from me as I move closer, his knife dropping to the chopping board as his lower back arches against the counter. I cage him between my arms, and the movement is so smooth that it feels natural, just like he said.
I grip the counter on either side of his waist, forcing him to rock his head back to look up at me.
Part of me can’t believe I’m being so bold, but his scent grows stronger with every second, and I can’t stay away from him.
“Timber,” he says breathlessly.
“Why are you leaving me, Luke?” I ask as I lower down to meet his eyes.
He swallows, his scarf hiding the bob of his throat. His eyes crease as pain slashes across his face, but I don’t want to stop now that I’ve come so far.
The constant fight between my fear of being hurt and my desire for my omega is coming to a head as Luke bites his lip.
“You know why I’m going,” he whispers, and a surge of need pounds through my body as I lean in closer.
I cup his cheek, making him stay with me, no matter how nerve-racking it is.
His gasp sweeps my lips, and maple syrup dances on the tip of my tongue.
Luke’s flat hand molds to my stomach, denting my skin through my shirt, but I don’t know if he’s asking me to stop. His fingers shake as they dig into my abs, and I nearly groan at how good it is to feel him touching me.
I don’t want my omega to be scared of me, but I can’t let him go when that’s the most real thing I’ve heard him say since I met him.
My thumb swipes his lip piercing, and his eyes flutter closed as he moans.
He softens under me as I hover, moments from his lips.
“Luke,” his name rumbles from me, and he answers with a sigh. “Why are you leaving your alpha?” I growl as I swoop in, and he doesn’t stop me as I press my lips to his and finally claim him.