Kai stared at him, those gray eyes missing nothing on Spike’s face. Then he leaned in, and his lips brushed across Spike’s cheekbones, dampness smearing between them. He was kissing away Spike’s tears, that bastard.
“I’ll be back,” Kai said, his jaw set with determination. “I’m not someone you should cry over.”
Then he dragged his wrist down Spike’s jaw, down his throat, tracing elm over Spike’s skin.
With that, Kai zipped up his pants and turned, leaving the room.
Spike almost chased after him. Almost. But there was no changing Kai’s mind, there was no making him stay.
Instead, Spike sagged back against the bed, listening to the murmur of voices outside, then the front door clicking shut. A minute later, he heard doors slamming somewhere downstairs, and the distant rumble of an engine.
For the first time in Spike’s life, Kai was leaving him behind. Spike had known it would happen. He still wasn’t prepared.
It hurt so much.
30
Kai
The first few days in Colorado were difficult. Everything was alien to Kai. Moving into an empty room by himself, sleeping alone in a too-large bed. Whenever Kai found something cool or interesting, he turned, only to find that Spike wasn’t there, and neither was Micah.
There were texts, of course. Some concerned ones from Micah, and none from Spike. But Micah had done a couple of video calls with Kai, each time pulling a reluctant Spike into view.
“He wants to see you,” Micah said on the third video call, angling his phone to get Spike onto the screen. Spike was huddled up on the other end of the couch, unmoving, only his gaze darting over. “He’s been hiding out of sight, but he’s listening in. He misses you.”
“I do not.” Spike’s voice drifted from the other end of the line.
The familiarity of his voice—that lifted the weight on Kai’s chest a little, enough that he could smile now. “Yeah?” he asked, his heart thudding. He needed to see Spike again, except he wasn’t sure if Spike wanted Kai to. “Could you... move? Closer?”
Micah’s lips quirked into an amused smile. He eased up from his favorite spot on the rug, the video swerving as he found his balance. Then he settled down next to Spike, turning the camera so both of them were on the screen.
Spike scowled, making to leave.
“Spike,” Micah said, catching Spike’s hand. Then he leaned in, kissing Spike on the jaw. The video went sideways; Kai waited. When Micah fumbled to angle it properly again, Kai found Spike still in the video, instead of an empty spot on the couch.
“Fucker,” Spike muttered, his gaze darting over to the phone. He glanced away, then back again, and a look of sheer longing flitted through his face.
Kai’s heart skipped a beat. He still wants me. They both do.
Back at the airport, before Kai had left Micah, he’d pulled Micah into a deep kiss. Micah had blushed and whispered, I’m glad you’re doing this. You need to go out and see the world, Kai. I won’t be able to live with myself, knowing that I’ve taken your future away from you.
His words had played on repeat in Kai’s head. Kai knew Micah was right. He needed the money, he needed the professional experience.
But as he watched Spike narrow his eyes, sliding his arms around their omega, Spike dropping possessive kisses up Micah’s jaw, Kai felt a pang, too.
“Spike,” Micah said, a blush creeping up his cheeks. “Kai’s on the line.”
“Yeah, well, he can watch while I kiss you.” Spike nipped on Micah’s lower lip, brushing his fingers through Micah’s hair. Kai knew what Spike smelled, what he tasted. Micah’s gardenia-and-honey scent, his soft lips, the taste of apple-cinnamon tea on his tongue.
Micah was all soft eyes and warm smiles, and Kai wanted to reach through the screen, cradle his face. He wanted to press his nose into Micah’s hair, wanted to pull that omega close against him. And Spike, too.
It was torture, knowing they were right there, knowing this was happening right now, two states away, and Kai was too far away to touch them both.
Kai swallowed, his chest tight with longing. It was only his first week here, and the season hadn’t even begun. He was still getting to know his teammates, still learning to work with them. I wish I was home.
For a second, he thought about returning to Meadowfall. But Spike dropped his hand to Micah’s belly, and Kai remembered the baby. Remembered the costs of raising a child, and the costs of Spike’s tuition, and the career he’d promised himself.
“I have to go,” Kai said. So he wouldn’t get homesick and heartsick. The less he saw of Micah and Spike... the less he’d feel so torn about leaving.
Before they could answer, he ended the call.
The silence in his room was deafening. Kai turned on the radio, so at least he wouldn’t feel so alone.
* * *
One month dragged by. It was easier at basketball practice, or during the games. There, Kai had teammates, he had friends. He relied on his laser focus during games, and he felt needed.
The Colorado team was doing well. Better now that they had Kai with them. The camaraderie was easy, and Kai’s teammates accepted him with open arms.
Some nights, he went out drinking with them. Those nights, he went back on his promise to himself, and got just a little bit buzzed. Then he’d remember Dad with his drunkenness, and he’d stop drinking. Only to spot couples in the bars, their arms around each other, their marks on each other’s wrists.
Kai’s scent glands itched, all of them empty. He remembered the bite mark he’d left on Micah.
Spike had filled in the space Kai had left with their omega, hadn’t he? Kai was afraid to find out.
He’d been keeping the video calls brief, so he could protect his heart a little better. So he wouldn’t hurt so damn
