I whip my head around so fast my neck cracks. “Why? I’m the one that knocked over your trash cans and made you stand in the rain with me while I had a breakdown.”
“For not telling you what I knew, earlier.”
I shrug. “It is what it is. We’re still friends; I still care about you. It’s just been a weird night.”
He continues to watch me warily, and I roll my eyes and pat the space next to me on the bed. “I understand why you didn’t tell me,” I continue. “I barely wanted to talk to you once I found out Ryland was a scent match.”
“Why not?”
Because I had hoped you were my scent match, not him.
Because I was terrified that whatever progress we had made meant nothing.
Because it was too hard to look at you after.
“It was too much, at once.”
He nods stiffly, and I sigh.
It seems communication is not my strong suit tonight.
“Come sit and play with the kittens, Travis. You’ll feel better.”
“I’ll get the blanket wet,” he grumbles.
“Travis. Sit with me.”
Travis joins me, the bed dipping with his weight, and one of the kittens immediately takes interest in the white socks he wears. Another quiet huff escapes him, and I’m relieved to see his lip quirk in that tiny smile I adore.
We watch as the kittens frolic happily, two of them wrestling each other on their blanket on the carpet.
“You’ve done a really good job keeping them happy,” I tell him. “Ash, too. You and your packmates are great cat dads.”
“I learned a lot from you,” he admits. “We talk about cats in this house because of you.”
My face burns at his admission. “I mean, you showed me a lot of cats. I figured you liked it,” I mumble.
“I do like them. But I was searching for any cat I could find in my neighborhood just to show you. I wanted a reason to talk to you.”
He keeps his attention on the cats, not me, but his scent intensifies.
The room smells like a warm fireplace as my stomach flutters.
“You didn’t have to take pictures of cats. I liked to talk to you, Travis, cats or no.”
“I know. But I started looking forward to your smile too much to stop.”
My breath catches.
He turns to look at me, dark eyes earnest and inviting. “I was hoping it was you,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. “But I couldn’t tell. All those fucking scents around us.” He winces. “I could never truly tell.”
I hold his gaze, forcing myself to stay brave.
This is Travis, my friend.
The Alpha I trust.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it,” he says. “But I just wanted to say…I’ve been waiting for you for so long, and I’m really fucking glad it’s you.”
