Page 16 of Two For the Show (Trapped On The Tightrope Duet #2)

I don’t need to go over there.

Sure, Dario said he wanted part of his date with Alex to include me, but I don’t have to go over there. I could ignore his text and say I lost track of time.

But I told myself I would do things differently this time. That I would give the idea of having a pack, an Omega, a real shot.

So I run my hands down my already smooth black t-shirt, and knock on the door to Dario’s trailer before opening it. I’ve never once waited for him to open the door for me.

The sound of laughter greets me.

Dario and Alex are cuddled up on the couch, a blanket thrown over both of them, watching something on his old TV.

“Hey,” I say awkwardly.

My brother swings his head toward me, a massive grin on his face. “Dexter! Come sit down.”

I don’t move. I can’t. It’s like my feet are cemented to the floor .

“Hey, Dex,” Alex says sweetly. “Wanna join us?”

That gets me moving. I didn’t realize I was waiting for her invitation, but before I know it, I’m across the room and settling down next to her. She throws the blanket over my lap without asking if I want it. It’s really fucking warm, too warm, honestly, but I don’t say anything.

“We’re watching ‘Knot What You Expected,’ ” she tells me. “Have you ever watched it?”

Have I watched it? It’s my guilty pleasure show. Not even Dario knows that I binge-watch it whenever I get a chance. I know he’d tear into me for it.

But for some reason, it spills out of my mouth. “Yeah, it’s one of my favorites. What season is this?”

Her face lights up, and over her shoulder, I see Dario’s eyes widen in surprise. “Season two! This is the episode where Syder has convinced Jorge that she’s an Omega, not a Beta.”

“Oh, that one is brutal. I can’t believe that he-”

“Shh!” she says, throwing her hand over my mouth. It’s warm, and her sweet scent fills my nose and makes me want to squeeze my twitching cock. “Don’t spoil it for Dario.”

“Yeah, Dex, don’t spoil this show that I had no idea you watched until now.” I can hear the threat to make fun of me in his voice. The only reason why he’s not is that Alex likes the show, too.

I settle back onto the couch as Alex bumps the volume up on the television. As the host talks about how Syder has spent the past two years tricking Jorge into thinking she’s an Omega, I find myself moving closer and closer to the Omega beside me.

After my dad killed my mom, I avoided every Omega that came near me like the plague.

In school, I would refuse to participate in group projects when an Omega was assigned to mine, taking a zero if the teacher wouldn’t reassign me.

So when I heard that Alex was joining the troupe, I wanted nothing more than to get her run out of here.

I wasn’t going to do it myself because I didn’t want to be near her, but I wouldn’t have complained if Jude sent her packing.

But something is different about her. She’s not what I grew up fearing.

When you have a traumatic event at such a young, formative age, it shapes the way you view the world. In one day, one hour, one minute, I went from being a bright-eyed kid obsessed with my father to a jaded, broken child. My innocence bled out of me at the same speed as my mom did on the floor.

The scent of rich black forest cake fills my nose and yanks me out of the dark journey my brain was threatening to send me on. I turn to my right and see Alex has shifted closer to me, her head resting on my shoulder, and her fingers intertwined with Dario’s.

She’s lying on me.

My heart stutters in my chest.

I can’t believe she’s lying on me.

And then a soft snore leaves her, and I realize she’s fallen asleep, and maybe she didn’t mean to rest her head on my shoulder after all.

Dario catches my eye. “She’s still sick. I forgot about it for a little bit. But I think she’s getting better. It doesn’t seem as bad as it was yesterday.”

“How can you tell?” We’re keeping our voices low so as not to wake her, but she doesn’t even move when I speak.

“We fooled around, and after, she ate a second lunch. I think it’s a good sign that her appetite is returning. Plus, her skin looks healthier. I don’t know how to describe it. She smells better, too. ”

“You fooled around?”

My brother’s cheeks pinken, and he brushes his hair behind his ear. “Well, I don’t like to kiss and tell…”

“You love to kiss and tell.” I’ve heard stories about the Betas he’s brought to his trailer after shows for damn near a decade. I may have been a virgin before I met Alex, but Dario certainly wasn’t. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

“You’re right, I do. But feels weird to do it about her.”

“Fair.”

She exhales softly and shifts, allowing more of her body to rest on top of mine. I freeze, unsure what to do with the sleeping Omega I fought so hard to stay away from. Dario senses my discomfort and chuckles under his breath.

“She’s an Omega, not a bomb. You can relax, Dex.”

“What if she wakes up and is upset I’m touching her?” Holy shit, are Omega pheromones a truth serum or something? I would never normally say that. There is no way Dario is going to let this go.

But he doesn’t make fun of me like I expected him to.

“Dex, she needs us. She doesn’t seem to have the same hang-ups about being touched by us as she did before. Maybe it’s because we are her scent matches, or maybe she feels more comfortable with us now. Either way, I think you’re okay. She did suck your cock.”

The memory of that day makes my pants uncomfortably tight. “Like I could forget.” It’s nearly impossible for me to move into a better position with the way she’s lying on me without jostling her too much, but I try my best.

My brother looks at me with such raw emotion that my throat grows tight. He runs his fingers through his hair nervously. “I need her, Dex. After being without her for so long, I can’t lose her again. ”

I never told him about the texts I sent to her while she was gone.

Obviously, I haven’t had the chance to tell her, either.

Her old phone is in my trailer, in the drawer beside my bed, turned off, but still holding a charge. I never stopped texting it.

I poured my heart out in a way no one could see. Maybe one day I’ll be brave enough to show it to her.

Until then, I swallow and nod. “I don’t want to, either.”

Alex woke up an hour later, and I hadn’t moved an inch. Dario had gotten up and gone to talk to the others, leaving the two of us alone.

I don’t know if he planned for us to have to interact one-on-one, but that’s what’s happening.

“It blows my mind thinking that someone may have confused you and Dario for each other,” Alex says sleepily as she stares at my profile. It’s not the first time she’s brought this up. “You’re just so different.”

“We’re identical, genetically speaking.”

“Yeah, I’m familiar with the concept of genetics. But in practice, you seem more like regular brothers.”

“We got confused for one another a lot when we were small,” I tell her, adjusting myself slightly to alleviate the numb feeling in my leg from staying in the same position for an hour. “Before… before we ended up with family.”

Before my dad murdered my mom is what I want to say. But I’ve never talked about that day with anyone except Dario and my court-mandated therapist, and even then, it’s been in the broad sense.

We never discussed the specifics of it beyond what happened.

Never unpacked the feelings or the trauma.

It didn’t make sense to tell him how I felt about something that he was there for. He saw it too. Why do we need to relive it together?

Even my therapist only got the top line, the emotions, and not the play-by-play. Just enough to give me some coping mechanisms. Obviously not enough if I couldn’t be around Omegas, but at least I was able to function in polite society.

Mostly. I did join the circus.

“You don’t ever have to talk about that day if you don’t want to, Dexter,” she says softly, knowing exactly what I was avoiding saying and slowly reaching for my hand.

It lies limply on my lap, and I don’t stop her from taking it and weaving our fingers together.

“But if you ever want to, I’m a pretty good listener.

Won’t even say a word, if you don’t want me to. ”

Could I do that? Unload my feelings on her while she sits there silently? That almost sounds preferable to her reacting to what I say, asking me questions.

“Would you…” I take a deep breath, unsure if what I’m about to ask is reasonable, but wanting to know all the same. “What if I asked you to sit behind me, or be out of sight while I told you?”

I don’t think I could handle seeing pity in her eyes. Knowing that it changes the way she sees me.

“You could text it to me. Tell me over the phone. Send the message through a carrier pigeon. Or you could never tell me. It wouldn’t change the way I see you. And I don’t need to know it to know you. You’re more than your trauma.”

“Am I? Sometimes I feel like my life ended that day,” I tell her quietly. “Like there is an alternate universe out there where that never happened, and I grew up with my parents well adjusted, with no hangups, and have a pack and a family and everything I could ever want.”

She hums, playing with my fingers as she looks up at the ceiling.

“Yeah, maybe. Or maybe in that alternate universe, you got addicted to drugs. Or crashed your car and became a paraplegic. Shaved your head and ended up in a cover band that only gets gigs at cheap chain restaurants. Or any number of other things. That one trauma doesn’t determine the life you get to live.

Does it affect it? Absolutely. It changes the way you see the world and process things. But it’s not everything.”

She groans a little as she stretches her legs out before settling back down against me. “You are more than just the little boy who watched his mother die. You are the culmination of every decision you have ever made. And for what it’s worth, I quite like the ones you made.”

“Oh? How do you know they’re any good?”

She tilts her head back, looking at me upside down. Her wavy hair falls away from her face, and she may be the only person in the whole world who looks good under the shitty lights of an old, busted trailer.

“Because they brought you to me, Dexter. You and I are both broken, hurt people. Stuck together with chewing gum and a prayer, you know? And I’m not saying I’d choose to go through what Greg, Tripp, and Rich put me through again, but if I had to end up traumatized, I’m glad I get to do it with you. ”