My chest tightens as I see the tears threatening to spill over. His hazel eyes are dark and stormy with emotions I don’t know how to read.
“I’m such a fuck-up,” he hisses through clenched teeth, shaking his head with jerky movements. The cords in his neck stand out with the movement.
“What—what are you talking about?” I ask softly. “What’s wrong, Rowan?”
“I’mout,” he spits.
“Out? Out of what?”
He lets out a bitter laugh, tossing his head back. It makes a thump as it hits the lip of the bathtub. I bite back the protest that’s on the tip of my tongue.
My telling him not to hurt himself right now probably wouldn’t be received very well.
“Out of the booster,” he says, his voice strained. “I keep my stash in the medicine cabinet, but I’mout.”
I can feel his hands tremble as I hold them.
It’s a struggle to keep my own emotions in check. Even though he’s a beta, the despair, self-disgust, and desperation are oozing off of him, and it’s hard to keep my omega perfume from reacting. The last thing that needs to happen is a twisted feedback loop of negativity.
Rowan is lost in a sea of his emotions. I need to pull him back to shore.
I’m good at helping people.
That’s the whole reason I’m here.
But as my gaze darts across his pained expression and takes in the way his body is practically vibrating, I’m not very confident that I can actually help.
“You must think I’m pathetic,” he scoffs. “Sitting on the floor of this bathroom, nearly fucking crying over something this goddamn stupid.”
“It’s not stupid,” I answer. “And I don’t think you’re pathetic. I think... I think you’re dealing with something big. And scary. And it must feel so heavy.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” he says, leaning his head into the crook of my neck to hide his face.
His shoulders tremble then. When I feel wetness against my skin, I realize it’s because he’s crying.
“I’m sorry. I’m such a fuck-up.” His voice is a strained whisper. “I just—I just got a text from my dad earlier that Jett is back, and I—I couldn’t fucking handle the idea of seeing him without a booster.”
The fear that hits me is like a thorny vine, wrapping itself around my neck and constricting so that every shallow breath I take burns with pain. I’m glad Rowan seems preoccupied with his own emotions right now because I can’t control my own at the mention of his brother returning.
The rhythm Rowan, the alphas, and I have been able to find in the past month hasn’t been that bad. Honestly, I’ve enjoyed the time we’ve spent together.
Rowan’s put effort into making sure all of our living situations, the alphas included, were improved upon with his newfound responsibility and control.
And while I’m not “free,” exactly, I get to choose the food I eat, when I go to bed and wake up, and the temperature of my shower water. All things that the handlers back at the facility were in charge of.
“But now,” Rowan continues, “We’re probably going to seehim and he’s going to do something fucked up and I won’t be able to do fucking anything. I’m going to fight back and lose, or worse, sit there and take it when you or the guys are put in danger.”
He looks at me with a desperation in his eyes that stabs me right through the heart.
“What—what do I do, Mira? What the fuck do I do?”
Mira.
Not Sugar. Not Mirabelle.Mira.
The name I told him my friends call me. Because even though we’ve been awkwardly dancing around being something a little more ever since I let him sleep with me in my nest, at the end of the day, he’s my friend.
The first guy friend I’ve ever made.
