Page 207 of Alpha Mates

“I love you.”

I hadn’t heard those words in years, so long that I’d learnt to live without them, and then, there they were again.

“I love you.”

It’s funny how drastically things can change in such a small amount of time.

One moment, I was the happiest I could ever remember being, even when Oliver was still here, and the next …

Aiden tightens his grip on his blanket, pulling it over his head, shutting me out.

I let my hand drop. With anyone else, I’d give up and wait for them to get a hold of themselves, but Aiden’s not just anyone. He’s my mate and my friend, and abandoning him isn’t an option. If the roles were reversed, I know Aiden wouldn’t.

Actually, I know exactly what Aiden would do.

“Aiden,” I wail before I throw my upper body over his.

I lay my head down right beside his and watch as annoyance seeps into his pores. For a second, I think he’ll snap, but instead he closes his eyes and huffs. He means to go back to sleep, or pretending to sleep, but that just won’t do.

I poke his cheek, twisting my finger into the skin until red eyes flare open.

“For fuck’s sake, Julian!” he groans, sitting up so fast that I have to back away to stop myself from falling off the bed. I settle on my knees and try to look anything other than guilty as he finishes his one-sided fight against the sheets he’s cocooned himself in.

“Morning,” I say with a crooked smile.

Aiden’s eyes darken with unmasked annoyance, and I struggle to hold the smile.

“The whole point of days off is to sleep in, Julian,” he mutters, dragging in a breath.

It’s the phrase I’ve heard a million times now—his most beloved mantra since this shift began.

“Let me be happy,” he pleads, and my heart clenches. That’s all I want too.

I would’ve been fine reading beside him while he slept if I didn’t know, in my bones, that something was wrong.

At my silence, he tries to sink back down, but I slide onto his lap and swiftly hook my arms around his neck before the bed can claim him. He tenses, and it’s only for a split second, but it’s enough to twist my insides.

Was something wrong with him, or was something wrong with us?

Aiden never liked people touching him much. I’d noticed it ever since we realised we were mates. But oddly, he was just fine with touching others. A hand on the shoulder, a shove, a hug; he doled them out like they were nothing, but when it came to him being touched, he tensed up. How much he reacted depended on who it was.

Emitt? Barely. His parents? Majorly. Me? Nothing.

Or at least, it never used to be that way.

“I spent the whole day on my own,” I whisper. He opens his mouth, but I push on before he can say a word. “I did what you said. I went out and saw Beckett. I finished my bookandstarted a new one. I even went for a run. And I come home and you’re still in bed, Aiden. It’s three in the afternoon!”

“I could’ve made it to five,” he says, slumping against the headboard. It can’t be comfortable, but he doesn’t move. His hands are limp at his sides.

“Too bad,” I mumble while I stare at the hands that should be on me.

“I want to go back to sleep,” he says, shutting his eyes.

“Aiden.”

“Om. Saddley om Pom pommmm,” he sings, humming the gibberish to drown me out.

I press my lips together, wanting to pull my hair out—or maybe his. I’m not used to Aiden being like this. Annoying, sure, but not dismissive, especially not after how close we’ve gotten. He claims he’s enjoying his time off, and “hibernating,” but it doesn’t feel like that.