Then – Jake
“Mom.”
Groaning, I duck out from beneath my mother’s hand and run my hand through my gelled hair to bring it back into place. My cheeks flush a furious red. “Could you not?”
For such a small woman – her head barely touches my chest – she has one hell of a reach. A grin pulls at the corner of her mouth as she turns back to the stove, effortlessly flipping a pancake onto a plate and sliding it my way across the counter. “You don’t need to change your hair to impress your omega, honey. Kennedy likes you just fine as you are.”
If anything, the fire in my face burns hotter, my eyes widening. Inside my chest, my heart thumps. I pick up the plate when she gestures to it, one brow raising. “What makes you think that? Not that that’s what I’m doing—,”
My mom’s laugh is bright, and unapologetic, and always surprisingly deep. “Trust me, kid. I know these things. Eat your pancake.”
Instead of sitting down at the carefully laid table, I roll it up into a tube and shove it into my mouth, mumbling around it. “Gotta go.”
“Jake—,”
I swallow down the lump of food as I dart past, before pausing and swiveling. My mom’s flash of disappointment softens as I pull her to me with one arm, pressing my lips to her cheek and breathing in the familiar scent. Pine needles and frost. Home. “Thanks, Ma. I know I haven’t been around as much lately.”
And the thought only makes the guilt I’ve been avoiding jump out, front and center. “Why don’t I stay home tonight? We could watch a movie.”
Her arms don’t reach around me anymore. Not as much as they used to. “I’m okay, Jake. You’re building your pack. It’s natural you won’t be here as much. And I’m working, anyway.”
“You’re always working. You need to slow down, Ma.” Three jobs at least – anything to bring money into the house, since my excuse of a sperm donor fled town as soon as she told him she was pregnant. Anything to build us security, even though we paid the house off last year, thanks to my grandparents passing and leaving her a small nest egg. Enough to make her comfortable, but she won’t slow down. Or let me get a job so I can contribute.
“Pride doesn’t build a home, honey. Only hard work and elbow grease.” She mumbles her mantra into my chest, but she sounds tired. “Maybe I won’t go. We’ll see.”
“You okay?” I pull back, studying her as my brows draw together. “You’re not sick, right?”
She smiles at me, but it doesn’t hide the circles under her eyes. “Go see your girl. I’ll be fine, Jake. Bring her to see me soon, okay?”
No hardship. Kennedy adores my mom. It made my heart hurt the first time she walked in here, hugging the edges of the room until my mom got hold of her. Mom had her sitting at the table with a fresh muffin in one hand and a hot chocolate in the other before she could do more than blink.
My mom knows how to help people. “Sure. I know Kenny’d love to see you.”
“Go on then.” She slaps at my shoulder. “And take an apple too. One for all of you. Although God knows none of you boys need any help in the growing department.”
I linger in the doorway with my hands full of fruit, my brows knotting again. “You sure you’re okay?”
Another apple hits my chest lightly in response. “You’re gonna be late for school, kid.”
Crap. “Going!”
Then - Kenny
“Jake?”
I hover awkwardly in the doorway. “Um… hello?”
I eye the crack in the door dubiously before gently nudging it open. “Jake? I swear to God, if you’re gonna jump out at me like you did at the lake, we’re going to have a…,”
My voice trails off as I step inside. My eyebrows draw together as I glance around.
Something is… different.
It doesn’t smell like anything.
It always smells like food in here. Jake’s mom never stops cooking. Never stops, full stop. If she’s at work, there’s food on the side. Something for anyone who comes by.
“Jake?” My voice feels small in the heavy, open air.
