Page 82 of Alpha Mates

“Julian, you’re like the blueprint for what a new alpha should be. You do everything by the book, and you don’t mess up. Even my parents are always ‘Julian this’ and ‘Julian that’.”

“Well, my parents are more ‘Oliver this’ and ‘Oliver that’,” he mumbles, pulling at a blade of grass.

I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry as Max whines for our mate.

I don’t have many memories of Oliver since I’d never really liked him. There was no reason for it; I just didn’t like him, but I knew how much everyone else did. The golden boy. I remember him being perfect. So perfect that, now that I thought about it, even Julian’s greatest efforts must’ve greyed in comparison.

“They shouldn’t compare you two,” I say after some time. “You’re different people, and you’re trying your best.”

Julian shrugs. “It’s how things are.”

And it was, for both of us. I didn’t have a brother or any sibling to be compared to, but my mother still found ways to knock me down wherever she could, and I’m pretty sure I’m nothing close to the son my father wanted. My only saving grace is their guilt.

“But like you said yesterday, I’m looking on the bright side,” Julian says, dusting off and getting to his feet. “They’re not here, so it doesn’t matter.”

Except it does. But it’s clear that he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, so I let it go as I drag myself up too. “Want to head back?”

“Yeah, I’m tired,” he replies with a small smile.

Feeling the same, I dress quickly before I snag our bag and follow Julian as he starts the journey back.

“We should watch a movie when we get in,” I say.

“I havehomew—”

“Ah-ah. No,” I cut in with a pointed finger. “No fucking homework today. No work today. You can do that shit tomorrow, so until then, you can afford to watch a movie with me, Jewels.”

He doesn’t argue, but his frown doesn’t fade until I step closer, letting our hands brush as we walk before I take his. We walk like that all the way back to his place, and I keep my fingers intertwined in his as I tug him into the living room.

Julian groans about cleaning up but I drag us both down onto the sofa.

“What do you want to watch?” I ask as I scroll through the TV’s selection. “We can go with some action shit, something romantic, horror?” I list before gasping as my eyes land on a treasure. “Or … we can go with aTwilight?”

“No!” He dives over me to snatch the remote. “We’re not watching that. We’ll go with a classic,” Julian states before he choosesLilo and Stich.

I gasp again, “Who would’ve thought? It has a heart.”

He tosses the remote at me. “Half-wit,” he snipes.

“Termite,” I shoot back before I lie down with my head in his lap.

I half expect him to shove me off, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t say or do anything as the movie starts. His fingers slide into my hair instead, combing through with a slow but firm touch that weighs my eyelids down. He doesn’t stop, lulling me to sleep while the cartoon alien continues to wreak havoc.

I wake to the scent of fried chicken, and it has me groaning longingly as I open my eyes. I blink at the orange-glazed sky through Julian’s doors. I must’ve slept through the whole movie and then some.

“You’re alive,” Julian calls from the kitchen.

I hum as I stretch across the couch before finally dragging myself upright. I waver like that, then go in search of my mate. Julian bounces between several dishes cooking on the stove with far more energy than I’m used to.

“Sorry I knocked out,” I mumble, scratching my ass.

“It’s fine. I fell asleep after you,” he admits. “I guess we both needed the rest.”

I grunt and move closer to survey what he’s making. “Are you almost done?”

“My dinner is finished,” he says, taking a pan of fried mushrooms and some other stuff off the heat. “I’m still working on yours.”

Guilt pinches at my gut, but I push it away. It isn’t my fault Julian doesn’t eat meat. Most werewolves eat meat. Hells, most people eat meat.