The shop smelled like wood and polish, and faintly, the carnation scent of an omega. To one side, acoustic guitars perched on the corkboard walls, their polished bodies mellow and shapely. In front of them, electric guitars sat on metal racks, a variety of bold colors and gleaming surfaces.
On the other side of the store, violins and violas were displayed in glass cases—smaller versions of the guitars, but just as pricey. At least, that was how Ian thought of them.
He hadn’t the slightest idea why someone would choose to play a viola over a violin, but Brad could probably explain that.
Ian wandered over, wincing at the price tags on the violins. Counted himself lucky that Brad didn’t need a third instrument. Ian couldn’t afford it.
He stepped around the violin cases, searching for violin strings.
“You look like you could use some help,” Olivier said, emerging from behind the counter.
Ian smiled wryly. “I guess I could.”
Two weeks ago, he’d snapped pictures of Brad’s violins while Brad had been on firefighting duty. Ian had peeked into Brad’s desk drawer, but there had been no spare strings there.
Then Ian had searched online, and the variety of string materials and thicknesses had been so wide that Ian had backed away, overwhelmed.
So here he was at the store, pulling out his phone, feeling a little embarrassed.
“I’m looking for some violin strings,” Ian said, unlocking his phone.
The wallpaper on his phone was the photo Harris had taken at the station—Gwen with her plastic firefighter helmet, Ian and Brad by her side.
The photo always made Ian pause; Gwen had recovered from her surgery fine, but Ian still remembered the horror of that day, the sight of his daughter in the hospital bed, tubes and machines around her. And then it made him glad, because he still had Gwen and Brad with him.
“Oh! Is that Brad?” Olivier peered at Ian’s phone. Then he leaned back, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, I was prying. Please ignore that.”
Ian laughed. “As a matter of fact, yes. I’m looking for strings for Brad. He mentioned that he shops here often, so... I was hoping you’d have an idea what he needs.”
“Would that be for his Stradizine, or the Glossamer?”
Ian looked blankly at Olivier. “Sorry... what?”
Olivier beamed. “If I remember correctly, Brad has two violins. The acoustic one is the Glossamer, and the electric violin is the Stradizine.”
Ian stared. He felt a little inadequate; he didn’t even know much about Brad’s most precious instruments. And Brad certainly loved his violins, cleaning and tuning them when he got a chance between Ian and Gwen and his firefighting. Ian didn’t even know they had names.
Gods, Ian had been so focused on himself, hadn’t he? I should be doing better.
Olivier rubbed his neck self-consciously. “My apologies—that’s a quirk of mine. I remember most of my customers’ instruments. Swear I’m not some strange stalker!”
Ian hadn’t looked at Olivier closely, but he did now.
The shop owner was a small omega, slightly shorter than Ian, with green eyes and floppy dark hair. He had to be in his late twenties, dressed in a button-down shirt and black jeans. He was thin. And going by the shadow in his eyes... he looked kind of lonely, too.
“I didn’t know Brad had a family.” Olivier smiled wistfully, glancing at Ian’s phone. “Your daughter is beautiful.”
“Thanks.”
Ian stood there, cradling his phone. He didn’t know what else to say. Had Olivier been interested in Brad? Or did he just want a family to call his own?
Feeling possessive, Ian opened the photo gallery on his phone. “Brad needs strings for the electric violin—it’s the one he plays most often.”
“Ah.” Olivier turned them down an aisle, stopping by stacks of white cardboard boxes. “That’ll be the single-filament steel core strings. Did you need the full set?”
Ian bit his lip. Brad hadn’t mentioned it, and Ian had inspected all the strings on his violins—none of them seemed to be in bad shape. “How much does a full set cost?”
“That’ll be $61.87.” Oliver picked out a box from the stacks, opening it to show Ian the four rolled-up strings inside.
Ian held his breath. That was a lot of money. He could buy a week’s worth of groceries with that, and maybe even have change left over.
But it would seem so cheap, and ungrateful, if he only bought one string. What if it was the wrong one? What if Brad needed more?
“I’ll take that,” Ian said, breathing out.
He followed Olivier through the store, wondering about Olivier’s customers. What sort of person had money to spend on all these instruments? How often had Brad visited this place? Had he ever been interested in Olivier?
Envy crawled up Ian’s throat. He couldn’t help looking at Olivier’s face—no crow’s feet, no gray hair. Probably no scars on his skin, either.
Ian flipped through his worn wallet, feeling a twinge when Olivier rang up the total at the cash register.
“I’ll ring up your purchase with Brad’s store loyalty card—is that okay?” Olivier paused. “You get a ten percent discount with the card.”
Ian’s stomach flipped. Sharing Brad’s store card? That sounded... binding. Like he and Brad were already married. “Will he be notified of the purchase?”
Olivier shook his head. “Not unless you tell him.”
Ian breathed a sigh. Ten percent was still savings—he could get so many things for Gwen with six dollars. “Please use Brad’s store card—I’d really appreciate that.”
“Doing it now.” Olivier tapped into the register, and the discount went through.
Ian sagged. Brad was worth the fifty-five dollars. It was just... difficult to justify, when they still hadn’t paid off the bills from Gwen’s surgery. And the debt still weighed on Ian’s shoulders.
Olivier slipped the strings into a small bag, handing it over. “There you go. I rather envy Brad right now.”
Ian blinked. Olivier envied Brad, instead of Ian? “How so?”
“It must be nice, having someone buy things for you.” Olivier shrugged, smiling crookedly. “Especially for a hobby!”
Olivier wandered over to a back room behind the counter, shutting
