“Oh, you’re talking to me now?”
My chest tightened with shame. No matter how confusing my mixed-up feelings were, there was no excuse for how I’d treated Olive the past few days.
I stopped a few feet away from her, scuffing the packed sand with the toe of my boot. “I’m sorry. For all of it. How I treated you in the movie theater.” My throat was so tight it was painful. “You didn’t deserve that. I should have held you close and made sure you were okay, then cleaned you up and walked you home. I panicked, but it had nothing to do with you. And I’m so sorry for ignoring you afterwards.” My words felt so small and inadequate.
The faint moonlight highlighted her figure enough for me to see her shrug. “It’s fine.”
Her voice was quiet, monotone. Nothing like the lively omega I’d spent the evening with at the movies, or the one who laughed and talked with my brothers.
“No, Olive, it’s not. I’ve been all messed up inside, but it’s no excuse for how I’ve acted.”
She didn’t say anything, but she scooted over a tiny bit on the rock, leaving me space to sit down. My heart leapt, and I quickly sat before she changed her mind. The rock was icy, even through my jeans.
“Are you cold?” My eyes had adjusted enough to the light to see that Olive was bundled up in an oversized sweater that I recognized as one of Lars’s. My alpha rumbled as I was struck by the overwhelming urge to see her in my clothing.
“I’m fine.” Her eyes were fixed on the waves. I wanted to lecture her for being out here alone in the dark, but I understood the draw of the quiet beach. How many nights had I sat in this same spot as my grandma grew sicker inside the house?
“It’s hard for me to be at the lighthouse,” I blurted out. All the warning systems that told me to keep everything locked up neat and tight, to never let my vulnerability spill over, were blaring. But no matter how much I tried to deny it, Olive mattered to me. The idea that she thought I disliked her or didn’t want to be near her? I couldn’t stand it.
She turned towards me, her head tilted. “What do you mean?”
I took a deep breath. I wasn’t used to expressing myself… of doing anything that made me vulnerable. But in this moment, with Olive’s sweet scent mixing with the salty air, I thought it was time to be brave.
“I grew up here. In that house. My mom was a single mom. She’d gotten pregnant during a one-night stand and never found the guy again. I don’t have many memories of her because she died in a car crash when I was two. My grandpa was the lighthouse keeper, and he and my grandma raised me. I grew up in that lighthouse, spent mychildhood on this very beach.” My eyes burned with memories. The ghost of my grandpa chasing me in the waves. My grandma teaching me how to swim. Sitting at the top of the lighthouse, watching storms roll in with a cup of hot chocolate and my grandpa’s deep voice explaining weather patterns and the coastal rescue system for lost boats.
Now, it was my turn to keep my eyes on the waves as I did my best to keep my voice from shaking. “I met Easton and Lars in elementary school and we just fit together. Our childhoods were spent here and at Lars’s home. We were inseparable, spending our days and most of our nights together—usually causing chaos.” I snorted, remembering all the trouble we got into. “We were little shits. But we loved each other and loved this town. We all revealed as alphas around the same time. I’m not sure we even had a conversation about becoming a pack—we already were. We were all excited to find an omega to complete our pack, but then I went to college, and we started our company, and things just got so busy.” I didn’t tell her that Lars had become obsessed with a no-longer-mysterious omega years ago—that was his story to tell.
“And then, about a year ago, my grandmother got sick—cancer. The first two chemos they tried didn’t work, and she kept getting sicker. She decided to stop treatment.” My throat was so tight, each word like a razor forcing its way through. And then Olive’s hand surrounded mine, anchoring me. I interlaced my fingers with hers, and the tightness in my throat and chest eased.
“I stayed with them those last few weeks. My grandma and grandpa spent every minuteremembering. They told story after story of their early courtship days, memories of my mom, some I’d never heard before. One of the last things my grandma said to me was that losing her daughter was the greatest tragedy of her life, and there were days she hadn’t known how to keep living under the grief of it. ButIhad become her reason for living. She said raising me had been the greatest gift of her life.”
Tears rolled down my cheek and I quickly wiped them off, embarrassed. Olive leaned into my side. Her scent swirled around me, settling into my very skin and bones like it was always meant to be there.
“My parents died on the same day,” Olive said softly. “I had to go back to our house all alone. I lasted a couple of months before I moved. Maybe I shouldn’t have. Sometimes, I wish I could go back there, but I just couldn’t stand being there without them. So I get it, the not wanting to remember.”
I tightened my hold on Olive’s hand as my grief expanded to include her loss. My Olive. Alone in the world.
“When did they die?”
“Five years ago,” she said. “I’ve had a long time to figure out how to live in the world without them. Sometimes it’s still hard.” She hesitated for a moment. “Why did you take on this project, knowing you’d have to be back here?”
A small smile tugged at my lips. “Easton applied without telling Lars or me.” I found I couldn’t summon any of that anger I’d had at his actions with this sweet omega pressed to my side.
“Well, that makes a lot more sense,” Olive said. “I was wondering why you were…”
“An asshole?” I supplied.
Olive turned to me and grinned. “Maybe.”
“Easton shouldn’t have done it, but he knew I would have refused to apply for the grant. I also think he knew that, ultimately, I would have been devastated if anyone else did this work. I also think he was eager to do some matchmaking.”
I wished it was lighter out so I could read Olive’s face. There was a burst of sweetness in her scent, but she didn’t meet my gaze.
“He can be very insistent,” she finally said. “But…” She sighed deeply, chewing her lip. “I don’t know that pack life is for me. My parents ruined me for love.” Her voice was a low whisper.
I shifted on the rock and wrapped my arms around her shoulder. For a second, her body was stiff and I thought she’d pull away, but then she softened into me.
“What do you mean?” I kept my eyes on the distant horizon, the velvet blue sky speckled with bright stars. I wanted to look at her, hold her face in my hands, but I kept still, unwilling to disrupt the moment.
