“Do you like Kit?”
His amusement falls, and I watch as some kind of mask goes up as he crosses his arms over his chest, protecting himself. “He’s my prime’s omega. Of course, I like him.”
“But… he’s your omega, too,” I supply. “What I meant is, do you have feelings for him?”
He shuffles slightly, his lips curving down as he tries to figure out what to say, before settling on, “No.”
“I don’t believe you.” The candid statement leaves my mouth like word vomit. For a second, I wish it were actual vomit as my hand goes to cover my mouth. I must be feeling worse than I thought.
“You don’t believe me,” he deadpans. He doesn’t look hurt by the statement, but the tilt in his head lets me know that he definitely isn’t happy either. “Why?”
I swallow roughly, my throat feeling like the Sahara despite the soup I just consumed. “I see the way you look at him. Hedoesn’t see it, but he’s determined to forget about the possibility of being with you because you don’t seem interested, but… You are, aren’t you?”
He looks stunned, like he isn’t used to anyone being able to see right through him. His eyes dart to the floor, his mind seeming to be in deep, frustrated thought. Just before I think he’s going to excuse himself, he says, “Feelings don’t happen for me the way they happen for other people.”
“What do you mean?”
He scowls slightly, but not toward me. “Just that… most people feel attraction, and that attraction is used as a beacon to know who might be right or wrong for them. I don’t feel that. I don’t have any way of telling if I ever will feel that. Just that it happens randomly, and after a long period of time.”
It’s like a lightbulb flashes right in front of my face. “You’re asexual,” I state, coming to the realization.
His eyes flash as he nods, but then he shakes his head, obviously still conflicted. “Yes, I don’t feel desire the same way other people do. It’s only ever happened a few times, and once it was with a fictional character. That one really confused me.”
He laughs it off like it might ease the tension, but I can see that talking about this is still bothering him, so I meet his eyes. “That makes sense. Did you feel close or connected with this fictional character?”
He looks embarrassed, and his cheeks darken slightly in a bashful pink hue, but then he nods.
“So, you’re demisexual? Or do you not really want to go by any label? I understand that, too.”
He responds this time with a small smile. “I don’t mind the label. In fact, when Sam helped me figure this out and find the term, it felt like a weight lifted off my shoulders. So, I think the term is good.” He fiddles with his thumbs.
“I haven’t told Kit about my sexuality,” he confesses softly. “He asked me once if I couldn’t reciprocate because I didn’t actually like men, and I told him that wasn’t it, but I didn’t elaborate. I don’t know why… Now, he just thinks I don’t like him at all. And that couldn’t be further from the truth.”
I’m amazed by how many words this alpha is saying right now. He’s like a whole new person, completely different from the closed-off grump that people know. He’s reserved, a little bit timid, and it’s easy to guess why being hardened is easier than letting people see him in his natural, anxious state.
“So, if you do like him, why aren’t you trying to be with him?” I ask, and I hope it sounds kind, because I don’t mean it in a judgmental way at all.
He shrugs, his eyes glossy. “Opal, you’ve met Kit. He’s the brightest light and a fantastic person. He deserves someone who issure, someone who can give him what he deserves.” He pauses and shakes his head. “What if we started something and then I lose my feelings for him? Or I stop feeling attraction altogether? We’re pack, together for life, and I don’t want it to be awkward.”
He’s so wrapped up in the confusion. Anguish is written all over his face as his thoughts spin. His mint scent continues to sour the further he gets into his head.
He continues, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “This would be a lot easier if he were my scent match, but he’s not. I was hoping… that when Sam said he found his scent match, that we would meet and it would be easy. That we would smell each other’s scents and jump each other’s bones, like every other scent matched pair does, but we’re not. What if there’s a reason why we’re not?”
I take a chance and place my hand in his, squeezing to offer support. He flinches, but then he wraps our hands closer, not letting me go. His scent calms, still potent but also soothed. “There’s no way to know if that would have been the case evenif youwerescent matches,” I tell him. “Maybe that’s the problem, Thatcher. You feel all sorts of pressure to make things work with Kit because he’s your omega and he’s your chance at happiness. You can’t build a connection or a proper foundation with that kind of pressure, much less so for someone like you that doesn’t feel attraction the same way your partner does.” I scoot closer, offering comfort. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Kit these past few weeks, it’s that he is understanding. I mean, look at me. He let another omega into his house because he knew how much I needed it. That takes some strength. I think you should talk to him about what you’re feeling, and he may surprise you with his response.”
He looks at me, almost like he’s seeing me for the first time. He’s so quiet, I almost can’t hear him when he whispers, “Thank you.”
“You both deserve to be happy,” I respond.
“Damn, Curly,” he jokes, wiping the moisture from his eyes. “You’re pretty insightful.”
I crack a smile. “And perhaps just the tiniest bit rude. I’m sorry if I overstepped.”
He shakes his head in response and waves off my apology. “Sometimes, you just need an outsider’s perspective.”
An outsider.The sentence shoots me in the heart. For a moment, I forgot the actual role I have in this house, but the brutal reminder is needed.
I’m on the outside, and I need to stop trying to swivel my way in.
