“Both of those sound good, actually,” Peter said. He’d looked into Summerland’s summer program, and though it wasn’t great, there were a few classes he could take. He hadn’t wanted to ask because it was expensive, and Tex and Carver were already going to be paying a lot for his regular semesters.
The idea of getting a job, however, hadn’t occurred to him. Peter hadn’t worked before, the money from his parents meaning that he could focus on school, but it would be nice to have something to do.
“What kind of job?” he asked.
“What about something on campus?” Tex suggested. “That way, you might get to know some people before you start. I’m sure they have a coffee shop or bookstore or something like that where you could find a job.”
“How does getting a job work?” Peter asked, betraying his coddled and privileged upbringing. He had some idea, but he didn’t know specifically how to go about it. “Should I make a resume?”
Tex ruffled his hair, shaking his head. “Not for something like that. Just go in and ask if they have an application you can fill out.”
Peter was excited. He thought back to his visit to the Summerland campus, trying to remember if he’d seen any stores or coffee shops he could apply to work at. And even if he couldn’t find a job at the school, there were a thousand other places he could apply.
“I’ll do that,” Peter said, happy to have a plan that didn’t involve watching TV.
“Only if you want,” Tex said, squeezing his arm around Peter’s head and hugging him close to his chest. “We don’t mind if you just want to be our lazy little pet watching TV all day.”
“I don’t want that,” Peter protested, even as the idea of being Carver and Tex’s pet made his stomach clench with hot arousal.
He leaned against Tex’s chest—not that the alpha was giving him much choice with the way his arm was curled around the back of his neck—enjoying the feeling of his firm pec under his cheek.
Tex smelled like body wash and alpha, and Peter breathed him in with a happy little snuffle. He was happy and content, his mind busy imagining a future where he went to work and had a social life, the dark days of being in prison and afraid long behind him.
Closing his eyes, listening to the steady thump of Tex’s heart, Peter allowed himself to feel safe.
31
Carver
Carver meant to talk to Peter about The Bank that night, but then Peter was so sweet and submissive and happy that Carver didn’t want to ruin the good mood. He decided to wait until the morning, making up his mind that he would tell Peter over breakfast.
Breakfast came, Peter eating his Cheerios and talking animatedly about what kind of job he wanted to apply for, and Carver found himself hesitating again.
“I was reading the blog of an omega who works there,” Peter said, talking about one of the coffee shops on campus that he apparently wanted to work at. He took a big gulp of orange juice, grinning wide as he barreled on, “And she said that it was a great place to work. I filled out an application on their website, but I’m going to go in and talk to them as well. This other blog I was reading said that they only look at the online applications of the people who come in person, though the comment section there had some people saying that that wasn’t true. Still, it doesn’t hurt. Right?”
He looked at Tex and Carver, waiting for an affirmation. They both nodded.
“Probably a good idea,” Tex agreed.
“I think so, too,” Peter said, looking happy.
“Peter, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” Carver said, deciding that he couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to let Peter know what his mother was demanding of them.
“About getting a job?” Peter asked, a worried line wrinkling his forehead.
“No, it’s something else.”
“Okay,” Peter said, putting his spoon down and giving Carver his full attention.
“You know how my mother arranged your backdated pardon and altered the matching system records?” Carver asked, as though Peter could have possibly forgotten.
Peter’s eyes widened, cautious and wary. “Yes?”
“Well, she’s asked me to do her a favor in return.”
Tex scoffed, making Peter look at him with a confused raise of his brow. “She’s demanding a favor in return,” Tex explained, taking a big bite of his bagel and chewing loudly. “And we’re going to do it because she’s a scary, scary lady.”
“She’s not that bad,” Carver objected, not nearly as convincing as he should be.
