Ulric leaned in to comfort him, kissing the back of Gage’s hand. Gage answered by pressing kisses to Ulric’s knuckles.
They were being friends. Kisses were just a part of that, right?
When the ending credits began to roll, Gage sagged into the couch, looking exhausted. “That was better than I expected.”
“Because not everyone died?”
“Because I wasn’t watching it alone.” Gage angled a warm smile at Ulric; that warmth went all the way to Ulric’s toes.
“Want to watch another?” Ulric teased.
“No.” But Gage was still holding Ulric’s hand, and they were leaning against each other, relaxed. “Thanks for not laughing at me.”
“To be fair, you didn’t scream,” Ulric pointed out.
“Damn near did a few times.”
Ulric laid his head on Gage’s shoulder, chuckling. “I’ve screamed, too, you know. It’s okay to scream. That’s why they’re called horror movies.”
Gage huffed, but he leaned in, kissing Ulric’s temple. “I’ll remember that.”
He didn’t have to kiss Ulric there. Ulric’s heart fluttered. He stroked the back of Gage’s hand—it was large and strong, his fingertips callused. Like the rest of his body, Gage’s hands looked better than Ulric’s, too.
It felt like all of these moments came from borrowed time; sooner or later, Gage would get tired of Ulric, and start looking for an omega. Someone better, someone who could give him a family. The things a normal person would want.
“What’s wrong?” Gage murmured.
Ulric shook his head. “Nothing.”
“That’s not nothing. You look sad.” Gage turned, at the same time Ulric’s phone alarm went off—loud and jarring in the quiet room.
Ulric jumped. But he was also secretly glad for the distraction. “Looks like my ribs are done. The house smells like meat.”
Gage narrowed his eyes. Ulric hurried away to the kitchen, forcing a smile onto his face. Gage didn’t need to know how he felt.
He pulled his ribs out of the oven, picking the foil carefully open. Steam billowed into the air. When it cooled enough that he could pry off the rest of the foil, Ulric stuck a fork in the meat—it all but fell off the bone.
Gage rumbled his approval. “It looks good.”
So Ulric handed him the fork, heading to the fridge for his BBQ sauce. “It’s better with this, I think.”
Gage was already picking a chunk of meat off the bone. He blew on it, and then popped it into his mouth, his eyelids slipping shut. “Mm. Pretty damn good, O’Neil.”
Ulric laughed, the ball of nervous energy in his chest unraveling. Gage likes it. “It’s ribs. They’re pretty easy if you give them some time. But it’s nothing like the one you made.” Ulric shrugged. “I would’ve lost, either way.”
Gage met his eyes, giving him such a fond look that Ulric had to break their stare, his face burning up. “You made this,” Gage murmured. “I’m not comparing it to mine.”
“That’s like you saying I’m cute,” Ulric muttered. “Shit about not comparing to yourself.”
Gage reached over and hugged him from behind. Ulric yelped. Gage’s solid chest brushed his back; his arms were warm and strong around Ulric’s body—all the parts of himself he was ashamed of.
“To be honest,” Gage whispered in his ear, “I like all of this.” Gage ran his hand down Ulric’s side, along all his curves. “More to hold.”
Ulric’s blush scorched all the way to the back of his head. “That’s just bullshit.”
“You’re not the one holding you, so that’s not a valid point.” Gage nuzzled Ulric’s ear, hugging him tighter. “I’d love to hug you all day, every day.”
Ulric’s breath stuck in his throat. “If you keep saying things like that, I’m going to hold you to it. Extra rent. Five minutes of hugs a day.”
Gage laughed. The sound vibrated through Ulric’s back—so very lovely. “What about the days when our schedules clash?”
“Then you’ll make up for it another day.” Ulric thought maybe Gage might say it was crazy, but Gage just held him tighter.
“Deal.”
“I’m going to make a spreadsheet for it,” Ulric said. “And I’m going to circle all the days you don’t pay up with your hugs.”
Gage laughed again. “You know, they say everyone has their bad sides. Is this your bad side? You want hugs on a schedule?”
Ulric snorted. “You think that’s my bad side?”
“Yup.”
“How should I change my bad side, then?”
“Unscheduled hugs!” Gage shrugged. “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter to me, actually. Schedule it. Whatever makes you happy.”
Ulric stared, unable to believe all the acceptance Gage was showing him. He wouldn’t question it—if he looked at everything too closely, it might fall apart. Instead, he pretended that he was living in a world where everything turned out perfect.
A world where Gage liked touching him.
He looked at Gage’s arms wrapped around his belly, Gage’s fingers lightly stroking his side. Gage didn’t know it, but every brush sent an explosion of tingles through Ulric’s skin.
It was a lot more than anyone else had given him. His throat tightened.
“Don’t fall in love, okay?” Gage murmured against Ulric’s hair, his breath warm. “We’ll just be best friends.”
“I promise,” Ulric said, his heart squeezing.
He hoped like crazy he wouldn’t break his word.
14
Gage Doesn’t Realize It, But
Gage looked sidelong at the alpha beside him. He’d been watching Ulric for the past half-hour, but little had changed. Despite his smile, Ulric was still tense.
“What’s wrong with visiting the neighbors?” Gage asked.
Ulric jerked out of his thoughts. “Nothing.”
Gage reached over, rubbing his neck. “Worried that they’ll reject your ribs?”
Ulric hugged the casserole dish closer to himself. “Maybe.”
They were walking down the street to the house at the end—really, with all the rooms that had been added over the years, it looked more like an eccentric wizard’s haphazard mansion.
“Worried that they won’t like you?” Gage asked.
“Kind of.” Ulric chewed on his lip.
It wasn’t normal for an alpha to be this uncertain. Gage had come across plenty of alphas in his life. Alphas tended to be confident, they tended to be straightforward and aggressive, and unafraid of
