He’s heard nothing from Felix in the past two days.
The last time he did, Felix had been at his dad’s place. He’d sent a snapshot of the bay painting the day after, then fallen silent. Kade assumes he isn’t interested, since their communications so far have all taken place at the gas station, or at Felix’s place.
The old air filter unhooks easily from the bike. He wipes the pipes down with a blackened rag, eyeing the new circular filter next to him, complete with chrome trim and gleaming black paint. It matches the rest of the bike, all sleek and streamlined, and yet... Kade sighs, setting his wrench down.
He had felt a twinge of guilt when he splurged on a hundred-dollar filter. But he doesn’t have much to pay for—he’s just sharing a house with his mom right now, with no plans to settle into his own home. It would be different if he had a husband, or a family to consider.
Besides, Felix had said Kade wasn’t good enough, five years ago. Should’ve known that alpha rankings were important to you, too.
Down the road, the neighbor’s kids yell over basketball, and further away, a drill whines. Sunlight glints off his mom’s car in the driveway. It’s a beautiful cornflower blue, he imagines Felix saying.
Sweat trickles down his neck. With an exhale, he tugs his shirt off, tossing it over his phone. Doesn’t look like you’re coming today, Kade thinks, glancing down at the ring resting against his chest. Doesn’t look like I’ll ever have a use for the ring, either.
His throat aches with loss, so he pushes that thought aside, installing the new filter. Felix has been turning down his offers of a ride—going home from work, getting to places—and Kade misses having his omega’s arms around his waist, Felix’s warmth seeping through his clothes as he leans in, his fingers smoothing down Kade’s abs.
Since the lemonade stand, they’ve gotten a little closer. They’ve made plans—selling cookies door-to-door, painting at crowded malls, looking at the website... except peering at the laptop is really an excuse to slide his hand down Felix’s pants. Felix arches into his palm every time.
Kade swallows, pushing those thoughts aside. He’s in the middle of installing his new filter, and the garage doors are wide open, facing the street. Not the best time to start jerking off.
So he wipes his hands on a clean rag, then fastens the filter on with the first bolt, then the second, leaving them halfway tight for further adjustments. A car zooms by outside, and Kade hums to himself, one of the older songs he’d listened to in the tree house with Felix, years back, on a beat-up radio that they’d taken from his parents’ kitchen.
He almost misses the step of thin legs on the other side of the bike.
“Kade?” Felix says
Kade looks up, his chain glinting in the reflected sunlight from the driveway. His stomach drops.
Shit. Kade ducks his head, closing his fist around the ring. Felix isn’t supposed to see that. He tugs the chain up over his head, shaking it from his hair, and shoves it into his back pocket. His jeans are smeared with bike grease; another few fingerprints aren’t going to matter. Better that than reminding Felix of that failed proposal. “Hey.”
“I brought the painting,” Felix says, stepping into the garage, sunlight at his back. Kade squints up at him. “Sorry I’m late. Taylor was over, and we were distracted talking about the news.”
“That’s fine,” Kade says, heart thumping. Felix has always been close to his brother, and Taylor’s always out of town. Kade knows—he’d tried calling Felix’s brother five years ago, when Felix had left. Taylor never returned his calls.
Felix catches him squinting, stepping around to his other side, into the shadows. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.”
But his gaze wanders down Kade’s sweaty chest, to his crossed legs, and then away, to the bike. Now that he isn’t in direct sunlight, Kade sees the loose black shirt hanging off his shoulders, the skinny jeans wrapped around his legs. Even if Kade had to wait days to see him, it’s worth it, just like it was worth waiting five years for his omega to return.
“Thanks for bringing the painting,” Kade says. “I could’ve just ridden over for it.”
Felix shrugs. His gaze wanders around the garage, though, hovering on the tools and cardboard boxes lying around. “I didn’t want to bother you,” he says. But he’s still looking over the place, his face pinched, as though he’s trying to make a decision about the garage. “Nice house.”
Kade glances at the scar on Felix’s wrist. Still the one bite. He breathes in deeply, catching faint lavender and a hint of musky sweat. He wants to bury his face in Felix’s shoulder, in his chest, down between his legs. He clears his throat. Felix didn’t drop by for sex.
“It’s not bad,” Kade says. “I split the place with my mom.”
“Oh! She’s here too?” Felix looks toward the white door leading into the house, as though expecting her to step in. “I didn’t think... you would be living with her.”
Kade shrugs. Without Felix, he’d needed someone else to protect. So he’d returned to his mom when his dad died, looking out for her when he could. “She needed company.”
“I should say hi,” Felix says, biting his lip. He hugs the painting to himself. “Do you think she’ll... want to see me?”
Kade raises an eyebrow. Felix knows Kade’s mom loves him. She’s made him cookies, and he’s sat at their dinner table countless times. “Sure, why not?”
And Felix’s tentative look droops. Does he think she’ll turn him away?
Kade frowns. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Felix sucks in a deep breath, then blows it out. Like he’s hiding something.
Kade curls his fingers against Felix’s calf. “You’re lying.”
Felix
