Page 17

The drive back to the station passes in a blur of stop signs and familiar streets, but my mind is still in Lila's living room, watching the easy way she and Callum worked together.

The way she lit up when she successfully hammered that nail.

The way she turned to him when he spoke, like his opinion mattered.

I want that. I want to be someone whose opinion matters to her.

I park behind the station and sit in my truck for a moment, trying to figure out what just happened. I went there to deliver Maeve's stew, maybe get a few minutes to talk with Lila. Instead, I walked into a situation that made me realize Callum and I want the same thing.

And maybe that's okay. Maybe the best thing I can do is just... keep showing up. Keep being the kind of person she can count on. Let her figure out what she wants without me trying to push the outcome.

My phone buzzes with a text message, and for a moment my heart jumps with the irrational hope that it's from Lila. Instead, it's Mitchell.

Captain wants to know where you are. You're late back from dinner break.

Great. I head into the station, already composing explanations for my tardiness that don't involve admitting I've been sitting in my truck brooding about a woman I've known for less than a week.

"There you are," Williams calls from his office. "Everything okay? You look like someone stole your lunch money."

"Just tired," I lie, because the alternative is explaining that I might be developing feelings that are already more complicated than they should be.

"Well, wake up. We've got evening equipment checks, and I need you sharp."

I spend the rest of the evening going through routine tasks while my mind churns through the afternoon's events.

By the time my shift ends the next morning, I've almost convinced myself that the tight feeling in my chest is just normal disappointment, that wanting to be more helpful to Lila doesn't mean anything complicated.

But as I drive past Lila's street on my way home the next morning, I catch myself slowing down, wondering if Callum might be back already. Wondering if they'll finish working on those floorboards today, whether she's looking forward to continuing their project together.

I force myself to keep driving, but the restless energy that's been building all day doesn't fade. If anything, it gets stronger.

By the time I'm home, showered, and standing in my kitchen staring at my fridge without really seeing what's in it, I've reached an uncomfortable conclusion. I don't just want to help Lila with her house projects and furniture shopping. I don't just want to be her friend and neighbor.

The house is quiet. Levi's at the bookstore and Elijah's probably in his workshop out back.

We've been sharing this place since I came back from college and decided I wanted my own space instead of moving back in with Aunt Maeve.

The three of us have been friends since we were kids getting into trouble together, so when Levi mentioned needing roommates, it seemed like a no-brainer.

Usually, I appreciate having them around. Right now, though, I'm glad for the privacy. I don't have to explain why I'm standing here looking like someone stole my lunch money.

I want to be the person she turns to. The one she trusts with her problems and her laughter and whatever other pieces of herself she's willing to share. I want to be more than just one of several people who happened to show up when she needed help.

The realization should probably worry me. We barely know each other. She's clearly still figuring out her life after whatever brought her to Honeyridge Falls. Getting involved with someone who's recovering from a bad breakup is messy under the best circumstances.

But I can't shake the memory of how right it felt to cook dinner in her kitchen last night, or the way her scent changed when we were close together.

I can't forget the moment when I reached for the olive oil and we were suddenly inches apart, the way her breath caught and her pupils dilated, like she felt it too.

I can't ignore the fact that thinking about Callum teaching her to use a hammer makes me wish I'd been there first. Makes me want to find my own way to be useful to her.

My phone rings, interrupting my spiral into feelings I don't know what to do with. Maeve's name appears on the screen, and I answer with a wary "Hello?"

"How did she like the stew?" Maeve asks without preamble.

"She seemed grateful," I say carefully, because I know Maeve well enough to recognize a fishing expedition when I hear one.

"And how was Callum?"

"Fine. Helpful. They were working on floorboards."

"Mmm." There's a world of meaning in that single sound, none of it particularly comforting. "You know, Dean, sometimes when a person finds something worth wanting, they have to be willing to actually pursue it."

"I'm not sure what you're getting at." I know exactly what she’s getting at but I don’t want to talk about it.

"I'm getting at the fact that you've been thinking about this girl for days, and now you're surprised that other people are noticing how special she is.

" Maeve's voice carries that particular brand of gentle exasperation she reserves for family members who are being stubborn.

"If you care about her, show her. If you don't, step aside and let her figure out her own path. "

"It's not that simple."

"It's exactly that simple," Maeve counters. "Complicated is what happens when you wait too long to be honest about what you want."

After I hang up, I sit in my kitchen staring at my phone and thinking about what Maeve said.

About showing Lila I care instead of just hoping she'll figure it out.

About whether Saturday's furniture shopping trip is an opportunity to spend time with her or just another way to avoid being honest about how I feel.

The front door opens with the familiar creak that means Levi's back early from opening the bookstore for his part time worker. I hear him drop his keys in the bowl by the door, the soft thud of his messenger bag hitting the couch.

"Dean?" he calls. "You look like someone ran over your dog. Everything okay?"

I walk out to the living room where Levi's settling into his usual spot on the couch, already reaching for the book he's been working through this week. He glances up at me with that quiet way he has of seeing more than people expect.

"You look like someone ran over your dog. Everything okay?"

"Something like that." I drop into the armchair across from him.

"Rough shift?" he asks.

"It's about Lila."

Levi sets his book aside, which tells me he's picked up on something in my voice. "She seems nice. Came by the bookstore a couple days ago, bought some home repair guides. Julian spent a lot of time helping her find what she needed."

"Julian was helping her?" I ask, something uncomfortable settling in my chest. "How much time are we talking about?"

"They were there for a while. He seemed... interested in making sure she got exactly what she needed." Levi's tone is carefully neutral, but I catch the implication. "And then he dropped off more books at her place later that same day. Right before you went over there to cook dinner, actually."

"Oh." I process this for a moment. "Well, Callum was there yesterday afternoon too. Teaching her to use a hammer."

Levi's eyebrows raise slightly. "And that's a problem because...?"

"It's not a problem," I say quickly. "It's just... I don't know. I went over there to bring her food from Maeve, and they were working on floorboards together. Looking comfortable. Like they'd been doing it for hours."

"Ah." Levi leans back against the couch cushions. "You really like her."

It's not a question, and I don't bother denying it. "Yeah. I think I do."

"And you're worried Callum likes her too."

"I know Callum likes her too. It was pretty obvious." I run a hand through my hair. "I don't want to compete with him, Levi. That's not... that's not who I am."

"No," Levi agrees quietly. "It's not. So, what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to keep being myself," I say finally, and I can hear the excitement creeping into my voice despite my attempts to sound casual. "Help her with furniture shopping on Saturday. Be there when she needs someone. Let her figure out what she wants."

I'm probably bouncing slightly in my chair, but I can't help it, the thought of spending a whole day helping her makes me feel like a kid planning something fun.

"That sounds like a good plan." Levi picks up his book again but doesn't open it. "Just be Dean, man. That's always been enough before."

The problem is, Callum cares about her too. And he's probably better at the whole home repair thing than I'll ever be.

But maybe Levi's right. Maybe being myself is enough. Maybe I don't need to be better than Callum. Just different. Just Dean.

Which means Saturday's furniture shopping trip just became more important than I want to admit. Not because I'm trying to win some competition, but because I want her to know I'm here. That I care. That she can count on me for the things I'm good at, even if I can't teach her to use a hammer.

I spend the rest of the morning trying to distract myself with unpacking gear and doing laundry, but my mind keeps wandering back to Lila's house, to the way her scent had changed when we were close together, to the sound of her laugh and the feeling that something significant is beginning whether I'm ready for it or not.

By the time I finally fall asleep, I've made a decision that feels both scary and right. I'm going to stop pretending this is just neighborly concern. I'm going to be honest about caring about her, without trying to push her toward any particular choice.

I'm going to show up, be myself, and let her decide what she wants. Even if what she wants isn't me.

Starting with Saturday. And if Callum wants to help her with house projects while I help her pick out furniture, well.

.. maybe that's okay. Maybe there's room for both of us in her life, in whatever way she needs us.

Hell, with Julian showing interest too, maybe there's room for all of us.

It's not like multiple alphas being drawn to the same omega is unusual, that's how most packs form. This is just the natural way of things.

Maybe the best thing I can do is just be Dean. The Dean who brings food and offers truck rides and gets genuinely excited about helping people move furniture. The Dean who doesn't ask for anything in return except the chance to see her smile and maybe make her day a little easier.

Even if it kills me a little every time she turns to someone else first.