Page 71 of Slow Heat
Rosen laughed. “And loud. Your omega has quite the voice on him when he’s unhappy.” Then he steered Jason toward the sink to wash his hands again before moving ahead with preparing the meal. “Now go sit with Vale and be your real self so you can make good decisions during negotiations.”
Jason washed his hands twice, though the scent of onion lingered. He thought about Rosen’s assessment of Vale’s voice when he was unhappy, and he wondered with a combination of joy and dread just when he might have the opportunity to hear it. Anger seemed such an intimate thing in a way. Something new to learn about Vale.
He retrieved his now-cold tea and sipped slowly, joining the other three at the table. Sitting across from Vale so he could see him better and keep a bit of distance between them so he could concentrate, he listened avidly. He was intent to learn about Vale—his likes and interests, the things he found funny—but the longer he sat in silence, the more uncomfortable he became.
Urho knew exactly what to say to draw Vale out of silence and rouse him with irritation. His cheeks would pale and his eyes grew a brighter green at every annoying word out of Urho’s mouth. It was a reaction so beautiful Jason burned that he hadn’t been the one to provoke it. And Yosef was so easy with everyone; it was like he was born knowing what to say. And Rosen would chip in when he felt like it, relaxed and at home in Vale’s kitchen. And Jason…didn’t know how to be a part of their group.
His tea slipped down his throat in cool, spicy draughts as the distance between himself and the rest of them grew. Bigger than the space held by the alpha quell. And as childish as he knew it was, he resented Vale’s friends for their inside jokes and easy rapport. He hated them for their education, travel, and life experience. He hated that he was a child in their presence. He even hated that he drank spiced tea while they drank wine. Wolf-god, he hated them all.
Except Vale. He didn’t hate him. Couldn’t even if he wanted to.
StupidÉrosgápeurges.
“Jason, do you tango?” Vale asked suddenly, turning to him with a smile that flashed bright in his dark beard. “I’ve been meaning to learn and, if you do, maybe someday soon you can teach me.”
Jason did not in fact tango, but he was absolutely going to learn to do so as soon as possible now. “I’d love to dance with you. We can take lessons together if you want,” he said. “That would be fun.”
“So you like to dance?” Vale took a sip from his wine glass, his moss-colored eyes glowing. “Iloveto dance and haven’t had anyone to dance with in a very long time.”
“It’s not my fault you have two left feet,” Urho said. “Don’t dance with him, Jason. You’ll live to regret it.”
Jason smiled tightly. “Vale is too graceful to be anything other than a dream on the dance floor.”
They all laughed like Jason had purposely made a joke, so he laughed, too. But he’d been sincere. How could a man who moved like liquid, and who made Jason’s insides quiver just by walking, actually be a bad dancer? Vale had surely only ever had bad partners if that was the case.
And if by some chance Vale’s friends were right, then Jason would wear the bruises on his feet with pride.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“How did youmeet each other?” Jason asked what felt like hours later, after Rosen announced that dinner would be served in five minutes.
“Who? All of us?” Rosen asked over his shoulder.
“Yes, all of you.”
“Well, Yosef and I met first,” Vale said, smiling softly and taking the ice off his foot. He lowered his leg to the floor and tossed the ice bag onto the counter without rising to his feet and nearly hit Rosen with it.
A furry silver slinking animal caught Jason’s eye, and he turned his head to see Zephyr skulk into the room with a dark gleam in her green eyes. She kept to the wall for a bit, and then hustled toward Rosen with a plaintive meow.
“Whore,” Vale muttered and rolled his eyes. Rosen gave the cat a hunk of meat he’d carved out of the duck he’d prepared earlier. “Yes, Yosef and I met on campus,” Vale went on. “He was helping out a graduate studies law professor, another omega, actually, who’d gone into an unexpected heat and needed to take a sudden leave. The only person willing to step in was Yosef. We met over the last apple dumpling in the commissary. He wanted it and I wanted it, too. So we shared.”
“That’s nearly a meet-cute for one of those sweet romance novels Rosen’s always reading,” Urho muttered.
“Romance is the language of happiness,” Rosen said, opening the oven to check the giant bird inside. Zephyr had climbed up his body and now perched on his shoulder, her nails digging in, peering into the oven with him. He didn’t utter a word of discomfort. “You should try it sometime.”
Urho snorted.
“Urho’s right, though,” Vale said. “Why didn’t you fall madly in love with me on the spot, Yosef? I’m offended now.”
“I was with Rosen already,” Yosef said. “Or no doubt I’d have swept you off your omega feet and been utterly useless when your heat came on. A match made in heaven.”
Vale laughed and winked at Jason. “So then Yosef invited me out to dinner at the ever so trashy but delicious Cinco Manzanas.”
“Half-naked dancing boys and enchiladas are always an enjoyable combination,” Yosef said, a white smile gleaming between his lips.
“Rosen met us there, and he was his charming self. We’ve been friends ever since.”
“Urho came later,” Rosen chimed in, using massive gloves to pull the roasted duck from the oven. “He met Vale on campus, too, I think.”
