Page 5

Chapter five

Callan

Kit turns for the fourth time in a minute and finally sits up on an elbow and peers at me in the dark. He knows I’m awake, just like I’ve known and have waited for him to start talking. My Kit’s got something on his mind, but it’s better not to push him. He’ll speak only when he’s ready, otherwise, he shuts up like a clam. For all that we’re almost joined at the hip, there are things we just don’t tell each other. I wish we could, but those scars are still raw.

“I like Ryann. She’s really nice.” His voice is soft in the dark, filled with something that might be longing.

“Mm.” I wait, but I have a feeling I know where this is going.

“She’s smart, and she upsets the kids.”

I repeat my noncommittal sound.

“She’s really pretty, too, right?”

Now I pay attention; this is what’s eating at him.

“I think she’s lovely,” I say carefully but honestly.

“We discussed finding an omega, but we never talked about a beta.”

No, we hadn’t. I wish we had. I wouldn’t feel so conflicted right now.

“She fits us.”

This is dangerous ground now. Kit is different from Raider and I. He jumps in head first and to hell with the consequences. Raider may be impulsive when he’s emotional, but the rest of the time, he’s Mr Caution himself. I am always cautious and organised. I know where everyone is and where they need to be .

Ryann is a curve ball. A beautiful one, but I’m not sure what to make of her. She’s got secrets that are obvious, and she clearly travels light. I may have looked in her bag. A pair of jeans, a t-shirt, a wet coat. Her camera equipment, and nothing else.

Who travels to stay anywhere without as much as a toothbrush?

“We need to spend some time getting to know her.”

“I didn’t with you.”

That is true. When I transferred to Ashgrove High School, in that tiny town, where everyone knew everyone except us. All the kids were a little weird and aggressive, but Kit was my first friend. He walked up to me, a full head shorter than me, and smiled. I was thirteen and smitten. I knew I’d spend the rest of my life following him around. My conviction was instant and that strong. Perhaps it’s because I’d just presented, but I just think it was fate.

Raider found us being bullied in the locker room two years later. It, again, was instant. We were fifteen and a pack. No one would have believed us, so we didn’t tell anyone. To the rest of the world, we are Raider’s best friends. Kit is my lover. But no one knows about the pack bonds except that strange beta who walked in and could see it clear as day.

And it was instant. The same way I felt when I met Wren for the first time. Like lightning up my spine. A heightened awareness, the world flooding with colour and sensation. But with Ryann and Wren, it’s complicated. We aren’t fifteen anymore.

“How did she know?” I murmur out loud, irritated that I don’t understand what was so obvious.

Even our parents haven’t picked up on the fact we’ve been in a pack since we met.

Raider pushes open the door and creeps in, crawling up in the middle of us. Kit makes room for him and wraps an arm over his hip.

“You like her, don’t you?” Raider whispers.

I don’t answer because I don’t want to hurt him. Our silence speaks for us.

“We’ll tell them we’re a pack when I retire. It’s at the end of the year. We’re almost there.”

The truth is, I’m not sure if he even will anymore. There is always a reason to delay it. I know why, and I understand it, but I’m not even surprised when he stretches it out anymore. We all do it. The fact we are a pack has become a secret we guard viciously.

“It’s not because of that at all, Raider,” I soothe. “She’s just very much our kind of people.”

“Like Wren,” Kit adds.

“Wren doesn’t want to be with us,” Raider says sulkily.

I lean across and kiss his forehead. “Go to sleep. You have practice tomorrow.”

“If I even get to play.”

“Sleep, Raider,” I murmur.

Once I know he’s asleep, I say the words Kit’s been waiting for.

“Yes, we try.”

I feel his tension leave our bedroom and wonder how I got so used to it. Why are we all used to the tension and stress?

Kit falls asleep, but I lay awake for a while thinking about Raider, Kit, and Wren, and wondering about the whispered conversation I had with Kit earlier. The question is layered in mystery and an unease that won’t let me settle.

Why does the sound of a phone ringing make Ryann so terrified?

Raider and Wren are gone, and, without them, the house feels empty. I’ve done the dishes, cleaned the floors, and sorted out a few clients. Three hours of the comfort of numbers, and I’m feeling much more myself.

There’s a tap at the door, and I spin in my office chair as it opens. Kit pokes his head in and purses his lips.

“What’s wrong?”

“Raider left his keys here. I was going to run them down to him.”

I lean back in the chair, trying not to smirk at the obvious excuse. “Raider doesn’t need his keys. He’s with Wren.”

Kit looks away from me, his cheeks turning red. “I want to go watch.”

I stand up and reach for his shirt, slowly doing up the top two buttons. I kiss him gently. “Have fun.”

“But Ryann?”

I smile. “I think I can handle Ryann.”

Kit leaves, and I get changed, turning on the yoga music track I like and unroll my yoga mat.

It’s my stress relief. I breathe in and out and go through the motions, trying to calm my mind and let it all go away. At some point, I realise that Ryann has joined me.

We don’t speak, we simply follow the instructions of the monotonous voice.

By the end, I feel nice and loose and a little bit less stressed, but highly aware of the beta who smells like brownies beside me.

“So, yoga, huh?”

“Raider likes to bash people on the ice, Kit sticks pins in people, and I play with numbers until I need to come here and stretch. ”

She lies on her back in the middle of the floor and closes her eyes.

“Numbers? Accountant?”

“Bingo.”

I shift until I’m lying beside her, staring at the ceiling. “Its relaxing.”

“Agree to disagree,” Ryann says and chuckles.

“What?”

“I just, this whole situation. I caught a ride with Raider because he promised to feed me, hooked up with him, and ended up a prisoner.”

Wait! WAIT! WHAT?

“You hooked up with Raider?” I ask sharply. That was information he did not divulge.

She sits up and rolls to her feet. I sit up but don’t stand. I just watch her from the floor.

“It wasn’t really a hookup, we just kissed. It meant nothing.” She’s frantic, her cheeks red. She won’t meet my eyes. “I’m sorry!”

Oh, no, this won’t do. I get up and follow her as she very discreetly flees from me.

In the end, I have to grab her arm before she ascends the stairs. I pull too hard, and she spins, smacking into my chest with an oof. Because she’s standing on the stair above me, we’re at the same height.

Those lavender eyes seem like spirals into some mystery world I want to know. Absently, I notice her eyelashes and eyebrows are a darker shade of her auburn hair. Her skin isn’t pale, but a light brown that just makes her seem more mysterious.

“Why are you sorry?” I ask, but I’ve almost forgotten why I’m asking.

“Because I didn’t know he had a pack, and he was drunk.”

I make a scoffing sound. “Raider hooked up with you because he wanted to, and, regardless of how drunk he was, he only gets more stubborn with booze. It wasn’t an accident.”

Her eyes look between mine before dropping to my lips. Is she imagining kissing me? Does she want to know what I taste like as much as I want to know what she tastes like? Am I the only one who feels this?

She clears her throat and steps back, putting much needed distance between us. I let go of her arm.

“Sorry, I’m just going to go and have a shower,” she mutters.

“Sure, of course.”

She takes another step back, looking anywhere but at me.

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

My smile is instant, and I suspect surprising for her. “Is it? Because every time anyone says that, it’s always- ”

“No!” she almost shouts. “This is definitely one of those situations where it is me, not you. I’m not good at being around people, and I make things weird.”

I cock my head to the side, charmed by her despite the fact she is literally warning me off. “This isn’t weird.”

She takes another step. Her expression borders on panic that I don’t feel inclined to soothe.

“What do you want for lunch?” I call out to stop her retreat.

“Oh, I’m not hungry.”

Her stomach growls loudly, and she closes her eyes, no doubt willing the ground to open and swallow her whole.

“Something small?” she asks in a meek voice.

I bite my lower lip and gesture to the kitchen. “I can whip it up and meet you in the dining room. Is there anything you don’t eat?”

She wrinkles her nose. “I don’t really like eating mushrooms.”

No mushrooms. Adorable.

“Any allergies?”

She shakes her head and turns, walking away. I bite my knuckle to stop the groan as I watch her apple shaped ass wiggle its way up my stairs.

“Control, Callan, get yourself under control and stop thinking about mauling our guest.”

I retreat to the kitchen, wracking my brain over what I can make her. I decide to go with a simple bacon and rice risotto. While I’m cooking, Kit calls me on a video call.

“Hey, Kitten.”

He narrows his eyes. “We talked about that, Callan.”

I wink at him and sing under my breath as I taste the risotto. Mm, so good.

“How's practice?”

“Raider and Waraski are partnered this season, and they are really flowing. It’s a good thing Jacobs was traded. Waraski might be green, but he matches Raider’s energy.”

I stir the rice and look back at Kit.

“And Wren?”

“He’s taking center on the first line, with Evans as left winger and Hoffsfield on the right. They are a bit clunky, but I think things will end up working out. They just need to practice.”

“Mm, the game is this weekend, isn’t it?” I’m not as keen on hockey as the rest of them, though I do like the stats.

“Yep.” Kit pauses and flashes the phone at the ice so I can see Raider slam some poor fool into the boards. “God, I love it when he’s on the ice. He gets so demanding in bed.”

I laugh lightly. “What are you going to do when he retires?”

“How dare you, sir!” Kit spits three times and glares at the camera. “For that, you lose your viewing privileges.”

I snort a laugh as I get a closeup of Kit’s face.

“I’m so terribly punished.”

“Shut up, you.” Kit pauses. “How is she?”

“She’s just fine. She joined me for yoga, and we’re going to have a nice meal.”

Kit’s face goes slack. “Yoga?”

I hum and nod. “Bending, stretching, flexing.” I can’t resist teasing my poor alpha.

“I bet you didn’t even take the opportunity to look, did you?”

I dice some leek and wink at the phone. “I was occupied.”

“I’m jealous.”

“You’re watching them bash each other into perspex. How are you jealous?”

Kit looks away and winces. “Oh, shit.”

“What?”

“Sellars is down.”

I frown. “I thought he was goalie?”

“Yeah, I think it’s his knee again.”

“Is it bad? Who’s going to sub him?”

“Probably Bruce or Yarek. Okay, I’m going to get off the phone. I might try to convince Wren and Raider to come to the shops with me before I come home. If they will be willing.”

I just manage to mask my surprise. Kit’s anxiety over leaving the house is a thing of legend. The only way we can get him to go anywhere other than the Greene Demon’s stadium is to be with him.

I get the same bolt of shame I do every time I think of Kit’s mental illness.

I still have nightmares some nights. Especially when Kit starts to withdraw.

“Callan, stop.”

I close my eyes, hating the fact that he seems to always know what I’m thinking. Stupid bonds. Sometimes I love it, but, at times like these, I really wish he didn’t know. This is why our bonds are rarely ever open.

“It’s not your fault.”

I swallow hard as the memories rise, turning the residual taste of risotto bitter.

I force a smile. “Buy me a present?”

Kit laughs. He is contagious whether he laughs, smiles, or cries. He is compelling. I love that only we get to see him, but, sometimes, I think it’s a crime. Kit should be enjoyed by everyone .

He is the kind of person who lights up the world.

“Love you,” I say and blow him a kiss.

“Love you to the stars.”

And then he’s gone, and I’m swallowing the lump in my throat as I hear Kit scream.

“Callan?”

I jerk, hissing, as I burn my finger on the pan. Ryann appears beside me and grabs my hand. I hold perfectly still, watching her while she inspects my burned finger. Her hands are tiny and cold but so soft.

I can smell risotto and brownies, and the feel of her soft, small hands on mine has me mesmerized. Kit’s screams in my memory dull to a whisper.

“What were you thinking about?”

“What?” It’s such a strange question that my mind goes blank.

“You looked scared? I’m just…” she stops and bites her bottom lip. “You know what? Never mind, it’s none of my business.”

I want to give her the answers, but not about that. So, I stay silent, lead us into the dining room, and serve up the food.

“So, what was your favourite place to photograph?”

Ryann looks up from her food and smiles, accepting my subject change happily. I’m more grateful than I can express.