Page 1 of Roommates' Alpha

Chapter 1

~July~

It was too quiet; my basement room too empty. I stared at the door, some part of me still expecting my cousin Ryan to come down the stairs, needing my comfort.

It was strange how quickly everything could change. For years, Ryan would visit several times per week and curl up in my arms—the only place he felt comfortable discussing his problems. It had been that way since we were children: he was my delicate insecure cousin who needed somebody to lean on, and I’d been his person.

So many people—friends and family alike—saw our relationship as odd. How could an alpha and an omega be so close without a hint of sexual tension, even if they were related? But it was never like that, not for us. I loved him with all my heart and had only ever wanted to see him truly happy.

However, now that he’d found his happiness, I didn’t know what to do.

It had been less than a month since the four alphas he’d been pining over had taken him as their mate. Less than a month without his regular visits, and had no idea how I was supposed to move forward.

I sighed, removed my glasses, and pinched the bridge of my nose.

I was happy for him, I really was. But as much as I’d been his person, he’d been mine as well. I missed him, despite still seeing him once or twice a week.

I blew out a long breath, shook my head, and slid my glasses back on. I needed a distraction.

Hot summer air hit my face as I opened the door, and the temperature difference made gooseflesh rise on my tattooed arms. I took the stairs two at a time, then entered the code to the back door of the shared house. One of my upstairs roommates had a console with decent games set up in the living room, and a few hours of pixelated bloodshed was as good a time-waster as any.

The paint fumes were almost overwhelming as I slipped through the door, and I stopped, remembering an email from my landlord. He’d given the upstairs tenants their final two weeks free in exchange for them vacating early so that he could have some renovations done.

I hadn’t noticed them leaving. Not that it was that big a surprise. I had my own bathroom downstairs, and only needed to come up to use the kitchen or socialize. Since I ended up eating most of my meals at work, it could be days between visits to the main part of the house.

Plastic drop cloths were arranged wall-to-wall in the living room, protecting newly exposed hardwood floors. Spacers sat between new tiles in the kitchen, and every wall seemed to have a fresh coat of some color of off-white that probably had a fancy name like ‘crisp linen’ or ‘alabaster’. It was a dramatic shift from the gray carpet, patterned linoleum, and silver walls of only a few days prior.

Just another change to get used to.

I studied the kitchen floor and decided that I wasn’t going to risk messing up some contractor’s tile work by stepping on it before it was grouted. I was glad that I didn’t have anything more expensive than milk possibly going bad in the refrigerator. I cooked at home so rarely that I kept most of my meat and vegetables frozen until I was ready to use them.

The console was obviously gone, along with its owner, and, with the renovations removing any incentive for me to want to be upstairs, I headed back out the door.

I stared down the steps to my room for several seconds before walking over to a bench in the backyard instead. The dried wood creaked as I sat, but was sturdy beneath my large frame. I leaned back, let out a long breath, and gazed at the clear blue sky.

Footsteps. I lifted my head to see Ryan walking across the yard. He took a seat next to me and leaned in. I wrapped an arm around him and held him close, feeling a weight lift at the contact.

“Hey Bug,” I said, using my childhood nickname for him.

“Hey.”

“Where are your mates?”

He chuckled. “At home.”

“Everything ok?”

The smile was evident in his voice. “Yeah. I just missed you.”

I leaned my head against his. “I missed you too.”

He might only be there for a few minutes, but I’d take them.

∞∞∞

“Order up!” I called after confirming that all the dishes for the ticket were on the pass, then I picked up the next ticket and saw that it was still missing something.

“Where’s that sausage pizza for five?” I yelled toward the man at the oven.