Emory tossed his phone onto the table and began spreading out the mountain of paperwork he’d brought for the meeting. He’d printed out the past five years of annual reports, the last three budgets, the current strategic plan, as well as a staff roster, org chart, the roles and responsibilities of the C-Suite, and?—
He nearly jumped out of his skin when a quiet chuckle came from the doorway.
“Having phone sex in the office, cuz? I never thought I’d see the day.”
Emory was shocked to find the same blonde he’d nearly run over standing in the doorway. At first glance, it was hard to tell the person’s gender. They were tall, possibly Emory’s height if not a little taller, but much leaner, with thin shoulders and a soft waistline. The person’s snarky grin turned soft, and a hundred smiles just like it came to mind.
“Jonathon?” Emory breathed.
The person inclined their head. “It’s Jo now, actually. Jo Rexford, they/them pronouns, former founding partner of River Tech and former CEO of Great Forests, Inc.”
Jo stepped forward with an extended hand, like they were two business colleagues about to start a meeting. Emory’s lion leaped forward, forcing Emory up and out of his chair. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do until he was right up in Jo’s space. He bypassed Jo’s extended hand to instead throw his arms around his unsuspecting cousin.
Jo stiffened, the sharp edges of their collarbone digging into Emory’s arms, before they let out a breath and practically melted into Emory’s chest. It reminded him a little of how Cameron had first reacted to physical touch. Reticent at first, yet all too willing to hug back if given the chance.
Emory’s lion let out a low yowl, full of heartbreak and pain. Jo didn’t look the same, but the way Jo’s hands locked together behind Emory’s back, keeping him safe and protected, was painfully familiar.
Emory sank into the hug, like he was ten years old and they were standing out in the garden at his parents’ house or meeting up downtown for ice cream to avoid sitting through yet another family dinner.
Gods, this had in no way been the plan.
Emory had talked about it ad nauseam with Ronan. He was supposed to come in, play hardball, and figure out what Jo wanted, and how—or if—they could be integrated back into the family and the family business.
The second Emory and his lion had seen that familiar smile, though… It was like he had his favorite cousin back.
“Hey, Em,” Jo murmured, and Emory surprised them both by letting out a quiet sob.
The past few weeks with Cameron had unlocked something inside him. Years of stress and deprioritizing his mental health now leaked out of his eyeballs at the most inopportune times. He was way past embarrassment at this point. He was just…tired. So tired.
Jo hummed softly, keeping one arm wrapped around Emory’s back while lifting their other hand to press Emory’s head safely into the crook of their neck. This had been a rather typical position for them growing up. Whenever Emory skinned his knee on the sidewalk or took a bad tumble off his bike, Jo would always be there with a comforting hand. Even back then,Emory had felt the weight of being the second-born male alpha in the pride and had been training himself to suppress tears and stifle complaints. Jo had never believed in all that. They’d always encouraged Emory to feel his feelings, express his wants and dreams…even when Jo had never really done the same with Emory. Jo had kept a lot of things to themself, and that had made their disappearance all the more painful and difficult to understand.
“I needed you,” Emory gasped, and he dug his fingers into Jo’s back. “Dad…died, and there was no one else, and…and I did my best, I really did, but I…I can’t keep doing this.”
Jo had been a bit of a beanpole growing up. When they ran away from home, they’d only just begun to fill out, their shoulders broadening, and muscles inflating. Emory had expected adult Jo to be a lot bigger than they were. They felt strange in Emory’s arms, yet somehow, still achingly familiar.
“I’m so sorry, Em,” Jo whispered, stroking their hand down the back of Emory’s hair. “I heard about your dad, and Ronan filled me in on you meeting your fated mate—congrats, by the way—but also on how hard it’s been for you since your dad died. I wanted to come to the funeral, and I wanted to come back, so many times, but…I had a lot I needed to take care of, and I wasn’t ready until now. I know that leaving the family meant I was leaving you, but that wasn’twhyI left.”
Emory buried his face in Jo’s neck. One side of their head was shaved in a stylish undercut, while the other side was long, their shaggy blonde locks brushing the top of their shoulder. It was sort of a punk look, something Emory could appreciate but would never dream of attempting.
When he was finally able to get his tear ducts under control, he pulled back and gave his cousin a more careful once-over.
They were wearing a sports coat over what looked like a vintage band t-shirt and skinny black jeans that glittered in thefluorescent light. Emory’s lion roared at him, flicking his tail in annoyance, which let Emory know he must have been trying to get Emory’s attention for some time. His lion gave a purposeful sniff, and only then did Emory realize that Jo wasn’t giving off a familiar scent.
In fact, they barely had any scent at all. What they did have was familiar, almost like the faint smell of home he would pick up on his mother’s clothing. That was all they smelled like, though. No dominant alpha pheromones or typical masculine scent.
Emory had no clue Jo was gender nonconforming, and that huge gap in knowledge and understanding of his cousin drew another round of tears from Emory. He yanked Jo forward for another hug, perhaps a little rougher than necessary.
“You smell different,” Emory whispered, and Jo nodded, pressing their face into Emory’s neck this time.
“You don’t. You smell just like I remember.”
Emory sniffed, simultaneously beating back more tears and trying to pick up anything else he could about his long-lost cousin. He thought he smelled the faintest hint of something floral. Not perfume, but maybe a deodorant or soap?
Jo laughed and pushed out of Emory’s hold. “I don’t smell like an alpha anymore.”
It wasn’t a question, so Emory didn’t give them an answer. Instead, he turned around and walked back to his chair, gesturing for Jo to take a seat. Jo easily slid into the chair caddy corner to Emory’s spot, placing them at the head of the table. They took up the space with ease, like they belonged there.
Which…remained to be seen.
