Page 22 of Jake and Conner
"Bastian doesn't have a boyfriend," Dean said.
"That's what he wants you to think," Aiden responded ominously.
"What about you?" Griff asked.
"Me?" Aiden made a face as if he'd bitten into something sour. "No way."
We all laughed, and I felt lighter than I had in weeks, sitting here with my family. "My little sister brought her newest boyfriend home last month," I said. "She looked like she was about to die of embarrassment when the guy stumbled over Dad's dog and nearly knocked the dinner table over. Livvy doesn't have a great taste in guys."
"You're saying that because you hate all of Livvy's partners on principle," Griff pointed out.
I shrugged. "It's my job as her big brother." And I took my job very seriously, even if Livvy wasn't always happy about it. My little sister was every bit as alpha as I was. My omega dad sometimes joked that he must have been cursed to be raising two ferocious little alphas, but he always said it with a smile on his face. I knew in reality he thought he was lucky that neither of his kids had to deal with the sort of discrimination that he'd had to deal with as an omega.
The sort of discrimination that Conner fought against.
As soon as my thoughts turned to Conner, a heavy weight settled on my chest. There was a time when thinking of him did the exact opposite to me, but right now? I couldn't be smiling when I knew that he was somewhere in this town, dealing with his heat all by himself.
How could we ever let things get to this point?
I sighed. No one said anything, but I felt a couple eyes on me.
It wasn't until after we'd finished our meals and the table had been cleared--I helped wash the dishes--that I asked Dean if we could talk.
One of his eyebrows arched up. He'd been leafing through the TV guide when I entered the living room, but put it aside now. "Something the matter?" he asked.
I gave him a half-hearted shrug because I didn't want to say yes, but I didn't want to lie either.
"Alright then." Dean got up and grabbed two beers from the kitchen before heading out onto the deck. I followed. The night was a little chilly, but I didn't mind. At least it meant that we weren't likely to be disturbed or overheard. People preferred to bundle up in front of the TV on nights like these.
Dean handed one of the beers to me and we sat on the deck together. "What's troubling you, kid?" he asked.
I almost snorted, wondering if he'd ever stop calling me kid.
Probably not.
I twisted the cap off my beer and listened to the soft hiss of the carbonation. I wasn't going to get wasted the way I had the night before, but a beer or two weren't going to hurt. "I'm nottroubled," I said. "I'm just..." I paused, searched for the words I needed. I'd never been super good with words. That was Conner. In the end, I decided to just say what was on my mind. "You ever have some bad shit happen at work and you keep thinking about it?"
"Sure." Dean's forehead creased as if he was recalling one particularly bad event. "Whatever happens," he said, his tone turning serious, "you can never blame yourself."
"I know. I'm not doing that." Was I? No, Iknewwhat happened was beyond my control. At least, intellectually I knew. "Do you never keep worrying about things even when there's nothing you could have done?" I couldn't be the only one who felt this way.
Dean eyed me closely. "There's nothing wrong with having those thoughts," he said. "Most of us can't avoid it. But you can't give them power over you."
Was that what I was doing? Giving these thoughts power over me? When Dean put it like that, I was feeling foolish. "You're right." I sipped at my beer, mulling the events of the past couple of days over in my head.
"I'm glad you came to me," Dean said. "I know how hard it is to talk about these things, but keeping it all to ourselves is the worst thing we can do. I learned that the hard way."
"You did?" I glanced at my uncle over the rim of my beer. We were reasonably close. I came over to this house every other week and had sleep-overs here as a kid. He'd talked to me about his job and he'd supported me when I announced that I wanted to be a paramedic. But we didn't have deep conversations. I was okay with that. Neither of us was the type for it. There was only one person I'd even consider baring my soul to.
Dean seemed to know that too, because he only nodded instead of telling me about whatever hard times he'd faced. "You need to find some way to get this shit off your chest. You don't have to talk tome, but..." He let the sentence hang.
I understood.
"You have a good family, kid," Dean added. "There's always someone, okay?"
I took a large swig of my beer and nodded. My uncle and I both knew that family wasn't who I needed to talk to. It was good to have that option, but the person I really needed was my mate. The omega I'd always considered as my mate, anyway. But could I really unload this shit on him? What was he going to think of me that I--
"You're not going to impress him by keeping these things bottled up, you know," Dean said as if he could read my thoughts. My gaze snapped to him. He laughed. "Been there, done that," he said. "Seriously, kid, don't be like me. I know Conner. He's not going to think less of you."
