For all that Jesse had been prepared to confront him, he hadn’t thought of what he’d say when he did. Because there wasn’t anything he wanted to acknowledge. All he wanted was another drunken fight, another drunken rut in the back alley, so they could both pretend it didn’t happen.
He gritted his teeth, gesturing vaguely. “This.”
Dom seemed to understand, though, because his entire body tensed. And he grasped Jesse’s collar, shoving him roughly against the wall. Jesse’s blood surged south.
“What,” Dom whispered, leaning in so their chests brushed and his breath feathered over Jesse’s ear. “Did you think I’d treat you to more whiskey shots?”
“Yes,” Jesse retorted. “What’re you afraid of?”
Dom’s throat worked, but he didn’t answer. He was afraid of something, then.
The small wound on Dom’s lip had healed by now—Jesse itched to put another on him. He wanted to bite Dom, to leave his mark on that alpha’s skin.
On impulse, he grabbed Dom’s arms and turned his head, his mouth grazing the stubble on Dom’s jaw. For an instant, Jesse’s mouth brushed the corner of Dom’s lips, a hairsbreadth from a kiss. Dom jerked backward, danger flashing through his eyes. He slammed Jesse into the brick. “Don’t fucking do that.”
“What, don’t kiss you?” Jesse lifted his chin. “Because you’re afraid to?”
Copper eyes dropped to Jesse’s lips. Dom was contemplating it, then. And he glanced back up savagely, like the slightest word could set him off. “I’m not making that mistake again,” Dom muttered.
“Because you’ll want more?” Jesse shoved their chests together, tilting his face up to whisper in his ear, “Afraid you’ll cream your pants again?”
Dom growled, clenching Jesse’s shirt so tight that the fabric strained. Then Jesse felt it—the press of a hard line against his hip. Before he could say a word about it, Dom leaned in, his breath hot on Jesse’s ear. “I’m not afraid of you, Sinclair.”
Then he bit down on Jesse’s earlobe, sharp points of his teeth sinking into Jesse’s skin, and he took that earring into his mouth.
Dom sucked. Pleasure shot down Jesse’s spine; his hips bucked. All Dom did was circle Jesse’s earring with his tongue, a warm, damp touch, like he was tasting the parts of Jesse he let himself have.
Just as suddenly as he’d started that kiss, Dom jerked away, his lips glistening, his eyes so dark, it dragged an answering jolt of want through Jesse’s gut.
Dom released him entirely, stepping back. Then—of all things—he turned to leave. After a kiss like that. After he’d gotten hard, just from how close they’d been.
“You want more,” Jesse growled after him.
Dom strode away, not bothering with an answer.
“Coward,” Jesse added.
Dom stiffened, but he kept walking.
Maybe that was it. Maybe all Jesse had to do, was push him hard enough. Then Dom would take him up on the punishment he’d promised.
Jesse straightened his clothes, stalking back into the bar.
This wasn’t over, not by a long shot.
Over the next few weeks, Jesse waited for a chance to confront Dom again. He didn’t want to do it during bar night or a call, because Dom could avoid him like he was getting really good at doing.
No, Jesse was looking for a chance where Dom couldn’t leave so easily. That chance presented itself one morning, while they were at a grocery store getting food for their next meal.
There were four of them on this trip—Jesse, Alec, Gareth, and Dom. On the way into the store, Gareth turned like he’d spotted something. “Catch up with you guys in a bit.”
He strode off quickly. Dom made for the pasta section first—food that wouldn’t spoil in a basket if they needed to drop it for the next call.
They were almost to the aisle, when Alec said, “Oh, Gareth’s kissing his omega. That’s a young one, isn’t he? And I thought I was young.”
Jesse couldn’t help looking. As old as all the scarring made him look, he was just twenty-two. Had Gareth found someone even younger than Jesse?
“C’mon, let’s go rib him,” Alec said, pulling Jesse along. He gave a loud whistle. Jesse elbowed him; other shoppers had turned to look. But Alec only grinned.
“For gods’ sakes, Alec,” Dom muttered.
Gareth’s boyfriend scrambled away when they approached. He was a thin omega, pale, a bit uncertain. Maybe he would’ve been Jesse’s type, a long time ago.
A glimmer of color caught his eye. The omega’s nails were a rich, sparkly blue, more purple than cyan. Something about that nail polish stood out to him—it was a nice shade. Bright. Almost... pretty.
Alphas shouldn’t think that about nail polish. But Jesse couldn’t help staring at the man’s nails—it was as though he’d spread minuscule bits of glitter all over them.
“This is Alec, and this is Jesse,” Gareth said. “Guys, this is Flores.”
Jesse blinked. Had he been so distracted by nail polish, that he’d missed the rest of the introductions?
Flores waved. Like everyone else, his attention fixed onto Jesse. Jesse breathed out, waiting while Flores gaped at all his scars. Then Flores’ stare landed on the embedded beads. Jesse almost wished he’d cut them out the other day.
“Do they hurt?” Flores squirmed.
“It’s fine,” Jesse answered. Like he could say anything but.
“Jesse’s a tough nut. Don’t worry,” Gareth said, sliding his arm around Flores in a casual, intimate way that Jesse wished he could stop looking at. But he couldn’t. What would that feel like? Having someone to hold, having someone who wouldn’t flinch when they touched you?
“Okay,” Flores said. “York’s also on your team, right?” He paused. “York’s our—my neighbor.”
Alec wriggled his eyebrows. “‘Our’?”
Gareth sighed. “Flores and I were neighbors.” So they weren’t neighbors anymore? Had Flores... moved in with Gareth?
“We really should get going,” Gareth said.
“No kidding,” Alec retorted. “The rest of us don’t get to snog omegas on our grocery runs.”
The words crowded onto Jesse’s tongue even before he could think. “Harris gets to snog Valen when we change shifts.”
Then his heart thumped. Dom was very definitely listening. And he knew what Jesse was talking about.
“They’re married,” Gareth explained to
