Page 296 of Alpha Mates

It takes me a while to get to Emitt and Beckett’s house.

They’d settled in a quiet corner within the pack, a secluded den in the woods that felt more like a tree house with the way it blended and stacked itself up amidst the canopy.

It’s lovely—homey—everything Beckett ever wanted after growing up in an empty husk.

Taking the porch steps two at a time, I rap my knuckles against the front door and wait. Seconds tick by while I try not to fidget or abandon this entirely.

When the door swings open, Beckett steps out without his usual boyish grin at having a visitor. Instead, he’s a dishevelled mess with a towel wrapped around his waist, sweat still dripping down his chest.

The musk of sex hits me, and I immediately take a step back.

“Julian,” he pants, green eyes wide with surprise as he clutches the doorframe. “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

“I wanted to talk. I should’ve called first. Sorry.” I mumble as I backtrack. Maybe Aiden was right about phones. “We can talk another time. I—I’m sorry for … disturbing you.”

“It’s fine,” Beckett says with a carefree shake of his head.

“Who is it?” a voice—Emitt’s—calls from inside.

“Julian!” Beckett shouts back, and my face goes up in flames.

“You guys are—” Nope, not saying that. “So I’m just—” I gesture vaguely over my shoulder. “I’m going to go.”

I nearly trip down the steps, and Beckett huffs a laugh, grinning.

“How about I meet you at Jack’s in an hour?” he offers, perfectly unbothered. I’m internally dying and he’s just fine.

“Make that two!” Emitt yells from inside. The blood in my face boils like molten lava.

“I only need one!” Beckett shouts back, and yeah, no more. I turn and run away.

“One hour!” Beckett calls after me.

I wave a hand over my shoulder, silently vowing never to visit unannounced again.

“We only have one hour … let’s make it count,” I hear Beckett say before the door shuts, cutting off whatever happens next, and I thank our Goddess up above for that small mercy.

Beckett’s uncle Jack owns his namesake stall in the market, serving grilled food between the rows of vendors. One of his nearby benches—the one I’m sitting at now—is where Beckett and I first became friends.

I’d run here once in an attempt to escape Aiden after he tore apart my favourite astronomy book. Oliver gave it to me for my birthday, and I’d never loved anything more. Then Aiden destroyed it and promised to do much worse once he caught me.

At seven, I couldn’t comprehend how it could get worse than that, so when he tried to grab me, I bolted—straight into the market crowd. Eventually, I collided with Jack. He’d taken one look at me before he’d fixed his scruffy jaw, and sat me at a table with his nephew, who’d turned out to be Beckett.

At first, I thought Beckett was quiet. But the second his uncle left us with two lemonades, he was beaming at me like I was a slice of cake.

“Hi! I’m Beckett!” he’d said, sticking out his hand.

“Julian,” I’dreplied with a glare that made him pull his tiny hand back.

“I know, and you won’t ever make friends if you act so mean,” he’d said with a slight frown.

“I don’t need friends.”

“Everyone needs friends,” he’d countered, before he all but leapt over the table to grab my hands. “I’ll be your friend. I think you really need them.”

“I don’t want you as my friend,” I’d snapped back, trying to pull my hands away.

I remember feeling so confused—because I did want friends. I just didn’t want to trust someone who would take it all back once Aiden showed up.