He stiffened, and I expected him to turn around and give up. But I was amazed when, out of the corner of my eye, his whole body relaxed. It was like a wave, starting at his neck and shoulders and rolling through the rest of his body. Each limb shook with a tiny twitch, and then he smiled. “Woof!”
I didn’t respond. What the hell had just happened? I’d stung him. I’d seen the reaction. Why was he smiling?
He nudged me lightly on the shoulder. “Hey, if I’m a puppy, then you’re a sheep.”
It was like someone had flipped his “hurt” and “goofy” triggers around.
“You know, because you say you’re the black sheep? Everyone else with the red hair, you with the dark hair? Baaa?”
I shook my head and sighed. Why was this man so confusing? Was I being oversensitive? “Let’s just be a bear and a fox. That’s what we are.”
His feet scuffed the sidewalk as we walked. “A bear and a fox. Is that all we are to each other?”
I stopped in front of my home, a three-story townhouse I’d “purchased” from Da several years ago. He owned nearly the whole block, and a bit more besides. I’d been so proud and excited to have my own space. It had given me my first true taste of independence, and on so many nights, it had been my refuge from my brothers’ and cousins’ raucous abrasiveness. Now it just seemed empty. And lonely.
I turned to Misha. It was already dark, even though it wasn’t that late yet.
Misha shifted from one foot to the other, the hair on his arms standing straight up, pulling his skin into goosebumps. His shoulders started hunching in against the cold.
“Are you mad at me?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, though it was more the echoes of anger at the moment. But I couldn’t just brush this under the rug. “I am mad. For a second, I thought you were different than a lot of the alphas out there. I thought that you’d value me because of who I am, Mischa. Not because I’m an omega.”
“Wait, what? When have I ever said anything about you being an omega? I mean, yeah, that’s part of what I’m attracted to in you, but it’s not like that’s even remotely the most important thing about you. It’s just one of the basics. Just like I wouldn’t be attracted to you if you were female, if you were dead, or if you wore sneakers on the beach, I wouldn’t be attracted to you if you weren’t an omega.”
The snort of laughter jumped out of me. I couldn’t help it. “So your type is basically a living man who doesn’t wear sneakers on the beach? What’s wrong with wearing sneakers on the beach?”
Misha pressed his lips together in disappointment. “Oh, Rory. What isn’t wrong about wearing sneakers on the beach? That’s an entire discussion for another day. But if we’re talking about my type, that’s a lot more specific.” He took a step forward, his eyes shadowed, but his brow intense. “Dark hair. About five foot nine.”
“I’m five foot ten.”
“About five foot ten, then. On a good day. A tight ass. A smile that’s rare but devastating. Sparkling green eyes. Long, slender fingers.” He pulled my hand from my jacket and tried to caress it, but I jerked it back.
“Damn, you’re cold!”
He chuckled, but it wasn’t a happy sound. It was lonely and rueful and it unsettled the foundation of my anger. I sighed. “Why don’t we head inside? It’s freezing.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.”
I started down the sidewalk to my house.
“Wait, where are you going?”
I pulled my keys out and pointed. “This one is mine. You’re welcome to walk all the way back to Da’s, but—”
He hurried to join me. “No, no. Here is good.”
Misha wasn’t the first man outside of my family I’d let into my home, but there was something different about having him in my space than someone I was just looking to fuck. He rubbed his hands together, calling warmth back into them.
“Do you want a blanket?” I asked.
“No, I’ll be fine now that we’re out of the cold. Can we sit?”
I gestured to the couch and we sat on opposite ends. He blew on his fingers for a few seconds before rubbing his hands on his pants and giving me a sheepish look. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m not all that good with the serious talking. Joking, sure.”
“I thought you did great with the Chens.”
He shrugged. “That was politics. Ritual. The hardest part was keeping my mouth shut.”
I laughed and nodded. “Believe me, I saw you struggle.”
His body kept moving, as if staying still was impossible. His shoulders would shrug. Then he’d wiggle his fingers or crack his neck. But I could tell he was trying.
“What I’m saying is… this is important to me. You’re important to me. I’ve clearly hurt you, and I don’t have a clue how. But I want to know what I did so I can fix it.”
His openness and sincerity dropped my stomach like a rock in a lake. How could I accept his vulnerability without returning the same?
“Okay. If I’m being completely transparent, I don’t want to move in with your family. I’ve been living on my own for years. Yes, my family is close, and I love that. I’m hesitant to give that up. And I won’t stop working for my family just because of our”—I waved a hand between us—“whatever this is.”
“We’re mates, Rory.” Misha laid his open hand on the seat between us. “Regardless of how the details fall out, I bear your mark, and you bear mine. Nothing can change that.”
I rubbed the scar with two fingers then tentatively reached out and grasped his hand. “Fair.”
“I want to have everything with you. A home. Babies. I want lots of babies. I can’t wait to see you all big and round with my cub—”
“Hold it, Novak. I’ve already had enough baby talk for tonight. I want to get used to being us before we talk about kids.”
Misha tucked his chin down and nodded. “I know this whole mating thing, exchanging marks, it happened a bit fast. You weren’t truly prepared. I forget that not everyone has watched their five brothers find their true mate one after the other. I’ve seen how good it can be, Rory. But if you ever tell them that, I’ll have to duct tape your mouth for a week. I’ve given them so much shit over the years… The point is, I’m fine moving at your pace. When I spoke earlier, it was in ignorance. I thought about what would make me happy, assuming it would make us happy, and I was just so damn happy all over, that I didn’t stop to wonder if you wanted something else.”
My heart flittered like a humming bird’s wings. Misha was answering the fears of my heart when I hadn’t even had words for the questions.
“What would you have done if I’d turned you away tonight? If I hadn’t let you into my house?”
“I probably would have gone back to your Da’s house. I’d have grabbed my jacket. Maybe stolen a pillow and comforter, but only if they were Patrick’s. Does he still live there?”
I shook my head. “His house is opposite the block from mine. But he does crash in his teenage bedroom fairly often.”