Felix nods against his shoulder, red sweeping up his ears. “You shouldn’t have.”
And Kade strokes down his back, trailing his hand along Felix’s forearm, to the scar he left when they were ten. He brushes his thumb over it; Felix shivers. “I swore to protect you,” Kade murmurs. “Regardless of anything. Even if we’re just friends now.”
You’re safe with me. You know that.
Felix trembles, sobbing into Kade’s shoulder. Kade strokes his back, wishing he could ease his misery. He kisses Felix’s hair, then his ear, his neck. I swear I’ll try harder. I swear I won’t disappoint you anymore. And strokes Felix’s scalp, holding his narrow, slender frame against himself.
I love you, Kade thinks. Always have.
When Felix pulls away minutes later, his eyes red-rimmed, Kade leans in, pressing his lips to his forehead. “Feel better?”
“Yeah,” Felix croaks. “Thank you.”
Kade kisses his forehead again.
The kitchen door squeaks behind them. “I need help with the site,” Kade’s mom says.
Kade sighs, annoyance growling through his chest. “Are you just gonna keep walking in on us?”
“Walking out. You’re on the back porch,” she says. To Kade’s surprise, Felix chuckles.
“That’s funny,” he says, his voice flat from his stopped nose. “Sorry. I left a mess on you.” Felix pulls away, swiping at his cheeks. Kade just watches him, thinking about all the times Felix has smiled in his arms. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Brentwood. I shouldn’t have stepped out so suddenly. I’m feeling better now.”
Kade’s mom smiles, relief in her eyes. “I’m glad,” she says. “Would you like to stay for some tea?”
Felix leaves his arms draped around Kade’s waist, nodding. Kade feels his own mouth twitch. “Go on,” he says, giving Felix a tiny push. “Be right behind you.”
This time, Felix smiles brighter. Kade traces his gaze over Felix’s golden hair and long limbs, smelling that faint lavender scent under his own.
Things will get better, he thinks, trailing after his bondmate. He hopes fervently that they will.
18
Kade
“I’m so, so sorry for interrupting you,” Felix says two days later, when Kade pulls up to the curb by his house. “I forgot it was Friday. I thought it was Saturday and I didn’t have to work.”
Kade winces. That must suck. He shuts off the bike, handing Felix the keys to the trunk. Felix had called ten minutes ago. It’s now 6:54 AM, and they’ll only be there 7:12 AM or so. “No worries. We’ll still be late, though.”
Felix grimaces, pulling the spare helmet out. He hops from one foot to another as he buckles it, glancing down the empty street. “I need to remember not to shut the alarm off. Damn it.”
It’s the third time he’s forgotten something. The first time, Felix had left his wallet at home and called Kade from the bus stop. The second, Felix had borrowed his headphones, and forgotten to return them. Kade had insisted he keep them, but Felix refused.
Felix slides onto the pillion seat behind him, his thighs clinging to Kade’s. It’s a common thing now, and maybe it’s why Kade dropped his work the moment he received Felix’s text.
They get to the gas station at 7:15. Felix peers over Kade’s shoulder at the store entrance, their helmets bumping. “Oh, gods, I hope Rick isn’t in there.”
Kade narrows his eyes. That manager is a bastard, from the sneering jibes Felix has told him about. “Look, why don’t I send you a text in the mornings? You better be up when you get it. Or I could send you to work.”
“I can’t trouble you so much.” Felix chuckles wearily, sliding off the seat. He pulls the helmet off, and Kade follows him into the store, just to see he gets in safe.
He catches the scent of bitter-wood two steps from the door. Next to him, Felix winces. He steps around Kade, though, pushing into the store first.
Feet away from the counter, the manager props his fists on his hips, glowering. “What time do you think it is?”
“Seven,” Felix says, circling behind the counter, his gaze lowered. “Sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“I don’t trust you omegas.” Rick flicks a speculative look at Kade. “You should train him better. He’ll be late for seven days straight now.”
The hell?
“This is the first time he’s late. Stop that bullshit,” Kade says, glaring. He doesn’t want to leave Felix alone with this guy. It screams against his instincts, but Felix has decided to keep this job. Kade can’t force his decisions.
The manager narrows his eyes. “You’re a customer, sir, so I’ll assume the best of you. But teaching your omega some manners would help us all.”
“The fuck are you saying?” Kade glances at Felix, whose ears have gone red. Why are you even working for this guy? “Shut up about omegas, damn you.”
Rick prowls forward, shoulders pulled back. “I’ve never heard of you before. Who are you to give me orders?”
“A customer,” Kade says.
Rick sneers. “Unfortunately, I only yield to the highest-ranking alphas. Say, the mayor or the president. You, sir, are neither.”
“Yeah?” Kade scowls. So what if you don’t know me? Rank isn’t everything. But Felix is watching, too, and he thinks money is important.
Rick’s eyes glint. “There are alphas who think they’re all that great. But rank matters, doesn’t it? And you’re a low-ranking alpha who can’t even climb to the top.”
Rick can’t know that. But the taunt digs deep into Kade, makes him think about sprawling mansions and cool, dismissive eyes, and You’re not good enough. His nails bite into his palms.
“Kade, don’t,” Felix says behind him, a note of worry in his voice.
“It’s true, isn’t it,” Rick says, grinning like a smug fool. He’s got something on Kade, and Kade hates it.
“Fuck you,” he says. Felix looks like he’d be safe here. He’s been okay for three months in this place, and the bastard manager needs a cashier. So Kade can leave him alone without worry.
He flips Rick off, fury thrumming in his veins. Rank doesn’t fucking matter. Neither does money. And of course
