Page 147 of Altius
“That depends,” I said, fingers digging into my thigh beneath the table, trying to remain calm and receptive. “Is there something in particular you want?”
“To date you,” he said with a surprising amount of certainty, then rushed on. “On the down-low, of course. With or without Joaquin, so long as we can try. That’s what I want. To see what happens, because I think we’d be good together. I can take care of you like Kelsey does. Handle the food and domesticstuff. I could even manage your bills down the road if you’re comfortable with it. Just…make life easier for you.”
“It sounds like an uneven relationship to me.”
Exactly like my current situation with Kelsey. A co-dependence that I was increasingly determined to change, even if it accidentally resulted in all the utilities being disconnected for non-payment in the process. I didn’t want to swap my selflessly dutiful sister for an overly indulgent boyfriend.
It wasn’t fair.
Alijah watched me for a moment, twirling the stem of his glass. “Is that how my relationship with Joaquin seems to you?”
“No,” I said quickly, flooded with guilt that I’d accidentally disparaged him. “You two are very well-matched and obviously happy together.”
“We are.” His earlier confidence returned—and stayed firm. “I express my feelings by taking care of people. He’s more into spending time together. That’s why he loves being mated so much. He’s got his pesky fangs hooked in my soul, meaning I’m never technically out of reach.”
Alijah leaned closer, the earnest gleam in his eyes strong enough to make me envious of their relationship.
A filthy, unwelcome feeling. Especially when I was trying my best to turn him down.
“And I love it. I love him.” His fingers braved the expanse of the tabletop. “But it took time to get here. Two years. So, why can’t you and I move at the same pace? I mean, look how far we’ve come in six months.”
“But there’s still six months left in my fellowship. Can you really wait that long? Even having dinner together tonight might get us in trouble.”
“Yes,” he said, drawing the word out with a heavy sprinkling of sarcasm. “If only we lived next to each other, with a privatehallway between our two lofts, where no one can enter without express permission of the residents.”
“The home stuff doesn’t worry me,” I said with a sigh of exasperation. “It’s how you—and Joaquin—look at each other. At me. And the so-called accidental lunches, which are getting increasingly more deliberate. The same goes for you getting me drinks and snacks.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off.
“Sure, we won’t be direct coworkers once the football season ends. That eases some of the scrutiny. But what if they reassign you to cover the same sports as me?”
“Then I’ll be careful.”
“But careful won’t—” Frustration threatened to spiral into something bigger, more flammable. Destructive. Angling my head back, I stared at the ceiling and counted to ten. “You’ve seen what I’m really like now. My temper. All the meds and the pain. How much work it takes to get through the day. I’ll snap at you and say the wrong things.” The sudden clenching of my heart stole my breath. “I don’t want you to have regrets.”
His earnest gaze turned wounded. “What I regret is watching you and Cal. And you and Wyatt. Even sometimes you and Joaquin. Frustrated and jealous because I’ve been waiting, just like you asked. For months.” Alijah leaned across the table, refusing to let me look away. “When I should have pulled you into a dark corner somewhere at the ballet gala and kissed you, the way I wanted to. I regret being so polite and respectful all the time. Being such a good beta.”
“Alijah, I—”
The server chose the absolute worst moment to deliver our food. Beautifully plated, perfectly cooked French cuisine, which I refused to ruin with a heavy dose of emotional baggage.
“This all looks amazing, thank you,” Alijah said to the waiter, then slid the pepper in my direction with a defeated half-smile. “I know. Later.”
Took the words right out of my mouth.
***
Later arrived when our rideshare pulled into Balboa Park, about half a mile from the hotel. Riding back together had been my idea.
After watching Alijah somehow manage to down his horrid cocktail, the rest of my mocktail, and three glasses of wine, I couldn’t abandon the pretty, tipsy beta on the other side of the city.
Joaquin would never forgive me if something happened to his mate. Nor would I ever be able to forgive myself.
And my omega? She was on edge, ready to claw the eyes out of anyone who glanced at him wrong. Even our elderly beta rideshare driver with a handlebar mustache wasn’t safe.
Her possessiveness made it harder to muster my well-rehearsed logical arguments.
“Thank you, thank you so much,” Alijah crooned, leaning against the car roof with a tipsy grin.
