“Penny’s a right example of a proper omega,” Grandma said. Penny blushed more.
Raph stood, his stomach twisting, his pulse hammering in his ears. No such thing as proper or improper. Don’t you fucking dare judge Wy for that.
“Raph?” Mom asked.
Grandma looked at him shrewdly. Raph forced his lips into a smile; he was still paying the loans on his education. He owed Grandma so damn much, and he was tired of it. Tired of playing as her pawn.
“I just remembered I had some unfinished work,” he said, glancing at his phone. “Sorry. I’ll be back next week.”
“But the auditions,” Penny said.
Raph paused at the doorway, glancing between Penny, and Dad’s hopeful face. “Fine,” he said, relenting. “Pick a song.”
Then he left, and the night air had never felt so sweet on his face.
12
Raph
Waitresses skated out of the drive-in’s side door, arms full of loaded trays. Raph drove slowly through the parking lot, parked behind the diner, and stepped out of the car.
At the glass door, he paused, finding Wyatt easily at a table. His brother wore an easy smile on his lips, memorizing an order without writing it down. Raph slipped in, headed to the other side of the diner, where Hazel frowned at her math assignment. He slid into the booth across from her, and she looked up.
“Hey,” Raph said. “Busy night?”
“Yeah.” She peered over her shoulder, the tip of her pencil trailing across her homework. “Looks like it’s a full house. I told Dad I don’t mind going home, but he said it’s okay that I stay.”
Raph cracked a smile. She really was a sweet child. “You can concentrate with this noise?”
“What noise?” Hazel smiled back, her small teeth neat and white, like her dad’s. She’d grown used to the crowd’s murmur over the years, it seemed. And Raph understood why Wyatt would keep Hazel close—he’d be able to watch over her, even if it meant sacrificing a table’s worth of profits, night after night. Even if Hazel was Max’s daughter.
He leaned back in his seat, glancing at his phone. At the lack of his attention, Hazel returned to her homework. Raph studied her discreetly, wondering how Wyatt had managed not to think about his ex, with his daughter so present in his life.
But maybe Wyatt was haunted by Max, just like he sometimes drifted off, thinking about his grandmother.
Raph swallowed, turning his phone around in his hands. He’d screwed up so badly with his stepbrother. It had been fear—he’d let Wyatt run off the first few days, trying to call him in private, unwilling to disrupt the rest of the family.
All it had taken was a look from Grandma, and one line: Bring him back, and all of you will be living on the streets. Their parents had worried. Over the next few days, Wyatt had sent Mom some messages. Don’t worry about me. I’m staying with a friend.
Raph should’ve done things differently. Should’ve stayed in Meadowfall, instead of leaving to enroll in Highton’s college. Should’ve come back to look for Wyatt, instead of hanging his head in shame. What good did apologizing do? Raph had failed to protect his brother. Wyatt had recovered, rebuilt his life.
Watching Hazel, Raph realized that his guilt still lingered. And he’d put a baby in Wyatt’s belly, thrown Wyatt’s life into more upheaval.
What kind of a sick alpha am I? Wy doesn’t deserve to be hurt again. If he stayed... would he disappoint Wyatt a second time?
Disgusted, Raph slid out of the booth. Hazel glanced up at him.
“I’m leaving,” Raph said. “Say hi to your dad for me.”
“But you haven’t talked to him.” Hazel chewed on the end of her pencil. “He’ll be here in a bit—you just have to be patient. Uncle Sam will get you a drink if you ask.”
“Maybe next time.”
It occurred to Raph that Wyatt wasn’t earning anything from Hazel’s table tonight. So he pulled out his wallet, stopping by the register to tuck two twenties into the tip jar. Budget’s gonna kick my ass again.
“That’s generous,” a low, lilting voice said to his side.
Raph couldn’t smell the magnolia past the heavy scent of broth, but his heart quickened anyway. He turned.
Wyatt smiled, hands tucked behind his back. Unlike the other servers with their yellow aprons, he was dressed like a manager, with a sleek white shirt and dark pants, and leather shoes that gleamed in the soft lamplight.
“I pass the inspection?” Wyatt murmured.
“Yeah.” Hard to say more when his throat was suddenly dry.
Up close, Raph realized that there were faint shadows under Wyatt’s eyes. His expression was bright, dulled slightly by fatigue. Why are you working today? Raph wanted to pull him close, make him sit and rest. But Wyatt stood straight, determined to leave a good impression, and Raph’s heart swelled for him.
“I didn’t think you were leaving so soon,” Wyatt said. “When did you arrive?”
“Couple minutes ago.”
“Only?” Wyatt licked his lips. Raph dragged his eyes away from Wyatt’s tongue. And was promptly distracted by the silvery mark on his neck, a hint of the new scar just by his collar. My omega.
Over the past weeks, Wyatt had been picking at the scab. Raph had been nudging his hand away so the bite mark could heal. Looking at Wyatt, Raph’s shame and anger faded away. Wyatt wanted him here. Maybe he’d forgive Raph at some point, if Raph made it up to him enough.
“You might want to stop staring,” Wyatt murmured. “I have patrons to see to.”
And maybe leaving right now wasn’t the greatest idea. Not when Raph wanted to pull Wyatt close, kiss him on the lips.
“When do you get off?” he asked.
Wyatt sighed. “Closing shift. Maybe 1:30.”
“I can send Hazel back.”
“I don’t want to trouble you.”
Raph rolled his eyes. “She’s my niece—it’s no big deal.”
Wyatt’s eyes crinkled when he smiled. Weariness lingered in the lines of his face, though. Was it because of the pregnancy? “If you are, drop by the
