I’ve been waiting for the last ten minutes, but honestly, I’m thrilled that he made it. Lately, we’ve been so out of sync that I’m almost eager to have a project with my packmate, and I’ll be even more enthusiastic if that project has anything to do with a certain raspberry scent.
Julius’s large, muscular frame takes the seat next to mine, and our shoulders bump. The touch startles me—it’s been so long since we’ve been casual with each other.
“So, do you have any idea what this is all about?” he asks, kicking his feet onto Marilyn’s desk. Part of me wants to tell him to get his feet off the furniture, but I know that will only make him dig in. Julius’s father was a piece of shit. As kids, we lived down the hall from one another in an apartment complex with walls so thin that they might as well have been nonexistent. I grew up listening to his father scream at him, beat him, and berate him every day of his young life. That is, until my drug-addled mother married him and moved us into the apartment with them. Giving the pricktwonew targets. Shockingly, he never raised a hand to her, though, and for that I’m thankful.
As Julius’s talent grew, so did his father’s envy until it became so dangerous, so intolerable that he left at sixteen. And thank God, he took me with him.
But any kind of scolding triggers him, so I bite my tongue, even knowing that Marilyn’s going to waltz in here, and glare at those giant feet with annoyance. Not my circus, not my monkey.
Except, he kind of is.
“I’m pretty sure it’s our turn to join the PR spectacle she’s forcing the rest of the team through.” I act disinterested, though I’m anything but. Masking my true emotions, I hide my real self behind a barrier of indifference. It has served me well for a long time; excitement, passion, and hope are all weaknesses that were snuffed out of me in that apartment complex by my mother’s indifference and her suitors rough hands.
“Oh shit. Knew she’d get to us sometime. Hopefully, it’s not a big deal. That way, we don’t have to refuse.” Julius yanks a pack of gum out of his pocket and tosses a stick of watermelon goodness into his mouth before offering me some, which I gladly take.I wish it were raspberry.
“Pretty sure we can’t refuse. Let’s just make the best of it,” I reply, gently reminding him of Coach’s edict. We do as Marilyn says, or we don’t play. Then again, for me, there’s no difference. Benchwarmer all the way. He grunts, and I’m not sure if it’s acceptance as the gentle click of heels echoes outside.
“Feet off my desk,” Marilyn barks, entering the room like she owns it. She’s such a dominant Alpha that evenIfeel the surge of her power. Sitting straighter, I glance at Julius to see he’s removed the offending foot but is now glaring at her with his arms crossed over his chest. “Hello, gentlemen. Sorry forthe wait. I was dealing with a little headache involving a diner blowjob.”
Her statement catches me completely unaware, and I can’t help the abrupt laugh that bursts out of me. It quickly turns into a choking sound as the gum I was so blissfully chewing clogs my throat. I cough until it pops back to where it’s supposed to be.
“Somebody’s in trouble.” I chuckle, tears lingering in my eyes. My life and death struggle took enough of my attention that I didn’t pick up on the vibe in the room, and now, glancing around, I can tell something is off. Marilyn and Julius are locked in an epic stare-down. The she-Alpha relaxes in her seat—cool, calm, and collected, like she doesn’t have a care in the world—while my packmate has his jaw clenched so hard that his pulse throbs along his neck.
Oh. Oh, no.
The silent standoff wages on, and I shift back and forth uncomfortably. Something’s going on, and I’m in the dark—my best guess is that the mystery BJ recipient is Julius.
“You didn’t?” I ask, although I already know the answer. Julius turns to me, and where I expect a pleased smirk is abject misery. It hits me so hard that my breath gusts out of me, and I grab his arm. “What happened?”
“Vonn. I fucked up so badly.” The words are barely more than a whisper, but his pain is visceral. Pouring out of him like a sieve.
The arm of the annoying creaky chair is in my way, but I do my best to pull Julius in for a hug. The big, tough team captain would never admit to needing physical touch to ground him, but since we’ve known each other forever, I know exactly what he needs. My packmate slumps, dropping his head on my shoulder before taking a few deep breaths, and I allow him the moment to gather his thoughts. He’s clearly overwhelmed, and that sends my mind racing.
Whatever has gone on must be pretty bad.
After a few deep, gasping inhales, Julius lifts his head back off my shoulder, staring into my eyes, completely at a loss for words.
“Come on, the blowjob can’t have been that bad.” I attempt a bad joke to break the atmosphere that’s now fraught with stress. Thankfully, it works, and he cracks a smile and snorts, giving me a prime view of my best friend.
“I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, man. I’m so fucking sorry. There was a server who was looking at me like I was a bug, and she kept scolding me, and next thing I knew the puck bunny was under the table, and I was getting the waitress fired, and I… fuck…” He breaks off panting like he’s run a marathon. It’s clear how at a loss for words he is.
Marilyn glances between the two of us, clearly confused by the exchange. Julius has been caught in much more compromising positions in the past, and it’s never fazed him. Generally, he laughs it off and takes great joy in knowing that the entire world has observed his sexual prowess. But what she doesn’t understand, what makes this situation so different, is that he has inadvertently fucked with someone’s livelihood. While Julius may be many things, he is not one to harm another person. Especially financially.
We both grew up dirt-poor, so knowing that this woman facing similar hardships is a devastating blow to Julius.
“It’s okay; we can fix this. There has to be some way to fix this,” I babble, wanting nothing more than to soothe the pain rolling off him. Though he may often seem like a dick, in his heart, Julius is a good guy.
Marilyn watches our interaction with hawk-eyes, as though putting together the pieces of a puzzle only she can see. When she finally speaks, my suspicion only grows.
“And this all happened at Lou’s Diner?” Her quiet voice whips across the room.
Julius pulls back and turns to face her, nodding.
“You weren’t with him?” Her gaze snaps to me. The crushing sense of her censure makes cold sweat dot my brow. Yesterday, Marilyn asked me to swing by that particular diner for a club sandwich that apparently only they make correctly. But this morning, I sent Julius to get it after we fought. We were supposed to go together, but the voice of his puck bunny, along with his grumpy-ass, hungover attitude, put me in a foul mood, so I gave him the task and went to the gym instead.
I had figured that as long as Marilyn got her food. It didn’t matter who brought it. When I glance around, I realize he failed to obtain it.
“Sorry,” I mutter, “I know how much you wanted that sandwich.”
