He slows his footsteps to watch, the machine’s roar vibrating in his heart. The bike rolls to a stop next to him, and suddenly Felix isn’t looking at the bike anymore. He’s looking at its rider: leather jacket clinging to his biceps, dark jeans wrapped around his bulging thighs, and his face—
His heart slams into his ribs.
Sharp mahogany eyes, strong jaw, dark hair scattered across his forehead. It’s a face Felix knows far too well. Because of course he has to bump into Kaden Brentwood again, and of course Kade can smell him from anywhere in town.
Kade’s gaze flickers over him, down his chest and hips and legs, pausing on his ratty sneakers, then darting back to meet his eyes. His nostrils flare. Felix hopes that Kade can’t smell him over the bike’s oily exhaust, but he picks out the familiar pine-and-cedar scent anyway, Kade’s musk. The ache in his body intensifies. Kade’s eyes darken.
Two days back in Meadowfall, and Felix has to meet the one person whose body he knows better than his own. The one person who had proposed, and he had dropped everything to run from.
Shit. He forces a smile, says, “Hi,” and spins on his heels, striding down the sidewalk. He should turn the other way, go somewhere Kade can’t follow.
The bike revs. Kade rolls alongside Felix on the pavement, eyes fixed on him. “I didn’t know you were back,” Kade says, his voice rumbling just the same as Felix remembers, curling into his ears. “Saw some ads of your work on the internet.”
Heat crawls up Felix’s cheeks. You’ve been following news about me? His heart flutters, at the same time his stomach twists. I never forgot about you, he thinks, staring at the weeds along the sidewalk. I never wanted to leave. “Oh.”
“You staying long this time?”
It means I want to see you around. Felix swallows. He can still read this man, five years after he fled. “I don’t know,” he says. “Just a while, I guess. I’m moving away soon. Meadowfall is a small place.”
If Kade reads through his lies, he doesn’t say. But he follows on his bike, three feet from Felix, and checks the road when they approach a street corner. Felix doesn’t know why this man is still with him, why he’s not taking off yet, disgust scrawled across his face.
The streets yawn empty to either side, so he crosses the road, Kade inching along on his bike.
“You’re not staying with family?” Kade glances at the street sign, and Felix hears his thoughts clicking together. “New place?”
He shrugs. They shouldn’t be talking so easily. He’s hurt Kade, more than he can repair, and Kade is still here, his visor pushed up on his helmet.
“Want a ride?” Kade asks. He’s not asking about sex, but Felix can’t help thinking it anyway. He smells the cleanness of Kade’s scent, the way he hasn’t marked himself with another person recently. Kade can probably smell the same on him, too. It teases his heat, makes his body remember those broad shoulders, Kade’s warmth soaking into his skin. “It’s gonna get colder out.”
Felix swallows. It’ll be an hour of uncomfortable walking out in this cold, his body longing for heat and touch. Kade’s not asking for sex, he’s not asking to pick up where they left off. Felix bites his lip. Is that all you’re offering? A ride home? “Why?”
For a long moment, Kade studies him, eyes flickering over his face. He opens his mouth, closes it, and glances off to the side. “No reason. Just thought it’ll be faster if you ride. You won’t freeze as quick on the bike. I’m headed north anyway.”
It’s not where Kade’s family home used to be. Felix winces. If he’d known earlier, he wouldn’t have rented this place. “You moved?”
Kade shrugs, his eyes unreadable. “Are you jumping on, or not?”
The thought of sitting on the cruiser, so close to Kade, makes blood rush down between his legs. Felix gulps. He should run as far from Kade as possible, before Kade really smells him. He should hurt Kade so Kade recoils, speeding away. Instead, Felix says, “Yeah. I am. Just... because it’s cold.”
Kade turns the ignition off and hands over the ring of keys. “Helmet’s in the trunk.”
Felix’s fingers brush his callused hand, a spark sizzling down his skin. Kade’s nostrils flare. You smell like lavender, Kade once murmured in his ear. Sweet, but not like honey. Just right.
He gulps and pops the trunk open, grabbing the only other helmet there. Why do you have a spare helmet? Is it for someone else? There used to be one for him, but it’s been five years, and plenty has changed. Are you seeing someone else now?
Felix pulls the helmet onto his head, buckling it. The foam inside smells like different people—the woodsy aroma of alphas, the grassy scent of betas, the sweet floral note of omegas—and he can’t tell if any one person has been using it more than the rest. He locks the trunk and hands the keys back, heart thumping. I can’t believe I’m doing this. With Kade.
Kade flips down the passenger foot pegs for him, then restarts the engine. The bike roars. Felix sets a hand gingerly on the trunk, steps onto one peg, and swings his other leg over the leather seat. It’s surprising how his body still remembers this, fitting on a motorbike up against his former mate. He pushes the thought away, settling two inches behind Kade, and his heart aches at that distance. They used to be closer.
“Ready?” Kade asks.
Felix curls his fingers into the edges of the pillion seat, careful to keep his thighs away from Kade’s. Kade is broad—shoulders, chest, waist. Never thought you’d be between my legs again. “Yeah,” Felix says.
“Where are you staying?”
“Walnut Street. Three miles down, next to Sally’s Grocery. It’s tucked in with a bunch of other smaller houses.”
Kade punches in the address on his GPS. Felix barely registers the new device, when he’s looking at the
