Page 13 of Feeling the Heat: Part Two
There’s a hint of softness in Ambrose’s voice when he replies. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted from you.”
6
I scowlas I run my fingers through my too-long hair for the hundredth time, attempting to smooth down the spots where it's decided to spike out.
If I’d known I’d be seeing my mate tonight, I would’ve made time to go to a barber. Some stupid, undeniable part of me wants to look good for the alpha that walked out on me, and when I stare at my reflection, I feel like I’ve aged years in the span of a few months.
Stress, insomnia, and near-constant heartache over your absent mate and your estranged scent match will do that to you.
Jackson’s face appears in the hall mirror behind me, and he furrows his brow as our eyes meet in the reflection. “You good?” he asks, placing a hand on my shoulder. Through the bond, Jackson’s own nerves and trepidation are crystal clear.
I turn away from the mirror and attempt to smile back. “Just wishing I hadn’t had to cancel my visit to the barberagain.”
“You look good. Handsome,” Jackson says, the compliment taking us both by surprise.
He’s been doing that a lot lately. I’ve attributed it to us clinging to each other after our packmate ran away, both of us trying hard to show the other that we’re still in this, even if River’s gone. River may’ve been the one to bring us together, but the last few months have taught us that we’re still pack without him.
It pulls a genuine smile from me, working muscles that are far too stiff and unused as of late. “You’re just saying that because you know I’m five seconds from having a total freakout.”
Jackson laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling with humor that I know comes harder to him now too, and shakes his head. “No, no, seriously. The messy hair look is hot. River is going to kick himself for staying away from you.”
“Really?”
Jackson nods. “Really. You’ve got this. Not that you need to impress him. The asshole is the one that left us. He’s lucky we’re giving him a chance at all.”
His sweetness instead of him ribbing me about being a disheveled old man is weird, but nice. There’s a small part of me that misses our old dynamic of him annoying the shit out of me to rile me up, but I really like this version of Jackson. It’s the only good thing to come from River leaving.
Will it stay that way when he comes back?
If he comes back, I remind myself. River sounded certain on the phone, but we didn’t discuss details. To him, this might mean coming back to the pack until things get better for Camille, then fleeing again.
“Yeah, true.” I swallow hard. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I ask softly, sensing the anger and hurt swelling inside my packmate.
“Camille needs all of us,” Jackson says dismissively.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Maybe. But what you need matters, too. I’m not letting River back into our lives if it means hurting you.”
Jackson shakes his head, but I can tell it’s struck a nerve. “You don’t have to say that. I know he’s your mate. I know he’s more important.”
“No, he’s not more important.” The words are instantaneous, and the truth resonates in the air between us. “You’re pack. You matter, frankly more than River does right now, because you didn’t give up. You stayed, and you’ve done everything you can to keep our pack together.”
Jackson’s eyes grow glassy as I speak, but he doesn’t have time to respond before the doorbell rings and Dolly’s sonorous bark rings out from the living room.
“I can tell him to go.” I reach out to place a hesitant hand on Jackson’s arm, giving his bicep a squeeze. It’s instinct for me to comfort him with touch, especially now that I don’t have an omega or mate to give that physical reassurance to.
He tenses for a second at the contact, something that’s not quite discomfort flashing behind his eyes, and I instantly regret touching him without asking. We’ve hugged a few times when one or both of us was feeling rough, but that’s not the open invitation to touch that my alpha thinks it is.
I pull my hand back, cheeks heating.
Jackson shakes his head. “No. I want him here. He needs to help fix this mess he made.”
We head to the front door, and Jackson scoops Dolly up, attempting to get her to quiet down as I unlock the door and pull it open.
Far too many emotions to count slam into me at the sight of my mate standing on the stoop. The biggest ones being,fuck, I missed him, andgod, I’m so angry at him.
From the way he flinches, he’s experiencing it full force as I let any feeble control I had on my bond with him come crashing down.
I expect him to flee. Or at least to slam his own barriers in place and cut himself off from us, but he does neither. A deep purr rumbles to life in his chest, sounding rusty and unused as he looks at me. River clears his throat, but it stays thrumming through him, and a sheepish half-smile forms on his lips. “H-hi.”
