My head whips to her, brow raised. “Huh?”
She gives me another casual smile. “I met your pack mates at the game in Connecticut. Sam said that you and Kit enjoyed historical landmarks, and you guys were going to check out Mark Twain’s house while you were there.”
I take that in, shocked to be reminded of that great weekend in Hartford. It was one of the first times where we really felt like a pack, where I had felt included in their budding romance.
It was the first time I had looked at Kit and felt something toss around in the pit of my stomach. His fingers felt so much smaller than mine the first time I had the courage to take his hand and lace our fingers together. Sometimes, I can still feel the smooth ridges along my calluses, the way it made me giddy with untapped potential and excitement, the way his scent lit up whenever his skin was touching mine.
The way he looked at me with heat, and I finally had the urge to return it.
But when we got home, things seemed to go back to normal, so my habit of overthinking returned.
I couldn’t stop wondering if it was a sincere desire or if I just wanted it so badly that my body mimicked the feeling. How would I know if I was mistaking our newfound close friendship for something more? What if I had those feelings one day and they were gone the next? That’s not something our omega should have to go through.
Before Kit, I normally didn’t have time to think about thethings that made me different. For years, playing hockey kept me busy enough that anything social had been an afterthought. I’d hear guys in the locker room or my friends in high school talk about the hottest girls, and it was like listening to them speak an alien language. I just never had anything to contribute to those conversations.
I honestly felt like I was the only person in the world who didn’t obsess over potential partners the same way everyone else did. It didn’t help that I attracted friendships with the most horrible macho men ever, both from being in locker rooms all my life and from being the biggest guy in every room I walked into.
I think Sam is the first real friend I’ve ever made.
Sam is the one who helped me realize that I’m not abnormal. How I feel attraction, how my relationships work, it’s not out of the realm of possibility in the way I always thought. Being demisexual is quite common, even for burly alphas like me. And I think seeing Sam be so confident in himself, both in his sexuality and his dominance as an alpha, has helped me accept the same about myself.
Still, stepping over that first threshold with someone else is scary. I’ve never been intimate with someone. I’ve never even been in a relationship that lasted more than two weeks. Kit is a part of my pack, and he deserves someone who is sure.
With all the confusion surrounding my feelings, there is one thing I’m sure of, and it’s that I’m not ready.
“Thatcher?” Opal asks, her low-toned voice pulling me back to the present. “Where’d you go?”
I try to give her a reassuring smile, but I’m sure it looks more like a grimace. “Sorry. That’s the game where Dax got into a fight on the ice. I wish everyone would stop getting into fights in the middle of games.” I joke. Yeah, let’s blame it on hockey. That’s a safe topic. “That weekend was fun. MarkTwain’s house was like transporting through time. I love those kinds of things. I’d like to see the Titanic museum, too.”
She scrunches her nose but not unkindly. “That sounds morbid. Is it on an actual ship?”
“I think it is, on the water somewhere.”
She thinks about that for a moment, careful not to move too much because of the sleeping cat on her lap. “Are you guys big travelers? Did you go anywhere over the summer?”
“Sam is a bit frugal about money, to be honest. I think rent for this house is the only big transaction he’s ever made. Besides renting downtown for that fundraiser last year.”
Opal’s eyes bulge out of her head. “Hedid that? He rented an entire street for that festival?”
I hold back a chuckle. “Yes, out of his own pocket. He wanted it to be special. Luckily, he has a lot of connections, so most of the vendors and activities were donated. Were you there?”
She nods, biting her lip. “Yeah, it was nice. I hadn’t been to anything like that out here yet. It was the beginning of my friendship with Rory and Stacia. Before them, I was a bit of a hermit.”
The way she speaks about them, even in passing, shows me how much they mean to her. “You must miss living with Rory.”
She meets my eyes and gives a tiny sigh, but then she looks around the room and her face relaxes. “I quite like where I ended up.”
My heart skips a small beat at that. I think I like where she ended up, too.
SIXTEEN
Playing: “BIRDS OF A FEATHER” by Billie Eilish
On Monday,things feel more relaxed. I feel much more at home since interacting with Thatcher for more than just a few sentences, so I have no lingering anxiety about hanging out in the public spaces, especially tonight.
Kit wanted to have a night in with our games, so that’s how we found ourselves burrowed together on the couch, candles lit on the coffee table while we put together our farm in a new co-play file. Kit also made strawberry croissants, which melted in my mouth with every bite. The guys are out, Thatcher at practice, while Sam is visiting Alpha Xi to look over stuff in his office.
“Opal,” Kit whispers my name like we might be overheard despite the empty house.
