15. Rome

15

ROME

“Throw me a fish.”

“Here.”

Logan and I were perched on the edge of his couch, controllers in hand and eyes glued to the screen. Our chef characters raced around in-game, trying to fulfill the mounting restaurant orders appearing on the corner of the screen.

“Oh fuck, I threw it in the trash instead.”

“Try again,” I encouraged him. “It’s ok, it’s gonna be ok.”

“Got it,” Logan muttered. “I got it, I got it.”

We were absolutely nailing this. Logan was an excellent sous chef at Overcooked. He’d picked up the game quickly, kept his cool and?—

“LOGAN THE NOODLES ARE BURNING!”

“FUCK!”

When the timer sounded we collapsed back in unison onto the couch. Against all odds, three stars popped up triumphantly on screen.

“Rome. I’ve never been so stressed about anything in my life,” Logan complained.

I threw him a sidelong glance. “But are you having fun?”

Logan hesitated. “Yeah,” he finally admitted. “How many people can play at once? We could get everyone to help.”

I shook my head. “Logan, we want to bring this pack together, not tear it apart.”

“That’s true.”

My skill level began dropping noticeably during the next couple of levels and Logan got upset with me.

“Rome, stop throwing mushrooms in the ocean!”

Fuck, I was doing that, wasn’t I? I scraped my hand through my hair. “Sorry,” I grunted. “You might have to accept that I’m not going to be very good at this for a while.”

“What do you mean?” Logan asked quizzically.

“The bond,” I said shortly. “James and Ivy’s date is going well.”

Logan looked confused, before going pale then a bright red as he processed what I had implied.

“This early?” he whispered. “It’s not even 8:00 p.m.”

I shrugged. James could be very irresistible when he put his mind to it.

Logan set aside the controller, the game long forgotten. “Fuck, how much can you feel?” he asked.

“I can sort of mute it a bit. To give him a bit of privacy,” I explained. “It’s like I’m…in the house with them but not in the same room if that makes sense.”

Logan nodded slowly, processing what I’d just said. “What’s it like having a bond?” he asked.

I understood why he was curious. But no matter how many ways you could be told what a bond was like, there was nothing like actually experiencing it. It was a living, ever-changing connection. The strongest emotions could catch me off guard and other times I almost had to go searching for it.

“Imagine having insight into the person you love where you know exactly how to make them happy. And in return, they do the same for you.” I looked over where Logan was staring at the floor, tracing the seam of his couch distractedly. “Is that something you would want?” I pressed.

Logan was quiet for a long time. When he finally spoke, his gruff voice was subdued. “My dad’s an alpha. And my mom was an omega. We lost her…almost twenty-five years ago now. Breast cancer and then it spread to her bones. Dad was bonded through it all and I thought I would lose him too.”

It happened sometimes in tragic circumstances. Bonded alphas and omegas unable to live without their other halves.

Logan steepled his fingers, knuckles tight with tension. “Sometimes we’re absolutely fine. And some days it feels like it happened yesterday.”

Suddenly Logan’s closed off demeanor made a lot more sense. I could read between the lines of that tightly clenched jaw and wall of grief. I couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like to witness his father losing his bonded. Twenty-five years ago…it would’ve been the keystone to his formative years.

No wonder the idea of being with Ivy made him panic.

Logan let out a sigh, the tension loosening from his body. “But time does heal. Dad and I have never been closer. And he’s even got a girlfriend now,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He’s sixty-three and sending me pictures of outfit options before dates,” he grumbled.

Logan’s dad sounded delightful.

“Is that weird for you? Seeing him with someone else?” I asked. “I know James was a bit of a basket case when his mom started dating. But he gets on fine with her partner now.”

“At first but I’m happy for him. If anyone deserves it, it’s Dad.”

Logan’s respect for his father was crystal clear. Perhaps seeing him prioritize love made Logan realize he could do the same. I could certainly already see the big alpha thawing out since we’d started our courtship of Ivy.

“What do you have planned for your date tomorrow?”

Logan settled back against the couch. “Reservations at Chez Lumiere.”

I whistled. “Sounds fancy.”

“It’s the only Michelin starred restaurant for miles.” He scrubbed a large hand across his beard. “I promise I’ll do my best with her, Rome.”

I was slightly taken aback by that. “You don’t…have to promise me anything. I already know you will.” Logan seemed surprised, like he had been expecting me to hold him to his vow instead of just trusting him.

This was what he needed. People with faith in him. And an omega he could take his time with. One who would love him exactly as he was.

I was pretty sure Ivy was up to the task.

“Should we try the level with all the pitfalls again?” I suggested, shunting whatever James was doing into a far corner of my mind.

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

It didn’t feel right leaving Logan behind as I went home to James and Ivy a few hours later. He should’ve been there with us. Even if we had to sleep with our limbs half off the bed. My alpha was disgruntled about treating our packmate this way.

I told myself it was early days. Courtship took time and there would be many nights to come with all of us together in Ivy’s nest.

I quietly let myself in the front door. James had texted that Ivy didn’t mind me coming home and joining them. I took off my shoes, hung up my coat and made my way through the kitchen. There was a sweet smell lingering in the air from whatever they’d cooked together.

The bedroom door was slightly ajar and I could already detect their combined scents. Fuck. They were utterly perfect together. James’ softer chocolate and marshmallow offset the myriad of spices from Ivy’s more potent gingerbread. My dick jerked and I mentally told it to back the fuck down as I opened the door.

It was a futile task, because the picture they made together was a revelation. James’ hair was a rumpled mess, his nose resting lightly on Ivy’s bared shoulder as they lay spooned together. She was in one of his shirts, the fit oversized on her smaller frame. James’ arm was curled protectively around her, their fingers lightly intertwined, having loosened in their sleep. I could see his dimple and the ghost of a smile on his lips.

Ivy was angelic. Her expression was so unguarded and relaxed. I never realized there had been a weight to her features at the school, even somewhat when she was out and about in town. There was no trace of it here and the difference staggered me.

It was almost painful to turn off the hallway light and bathe the room in darkness again.

I didn’t know if they had done it on purpose but Ivy was in the exact center of the bed, leaving enough room for me. I undressed down to my boxers but left my t-shirt on, erring on the side of caution instead of sliding into bed naked like I normally would.

I cursed internally when Ivy stirred.

“Rome?” she mumbled.

“Go back to sleep, baby,” I whispered, reaching out until I found her cheek.

Ivy shifted closer to me but James remained asleep. But that didn’t surprise me. James could sleep through a fire drill. In fact, he did so — not once, but twice — when we lived in our first crappy apartment together in the East Village.

“How are you?” she asked. Her fingers meandered lightly across my chest and up to my face.

“Good. I see you tired James out,” I teased.

She made a cute little noise, a mix between a scoff and a nervous laugh. I knew if the lights were on I would’ve seen her blush all the way up into her hairline.

“Did you have fun with Logan?”

“Yes.” I smiled. “I think you’re going to have a great time with him tomorrow.”

“I think so too.” Ivy went quiet but she continued to trace my features lightly. She found the edge of my bandage and paused. “How are your stitches?” she asked gingerly.

I let out a self-conscious chuckle. “They’re fine. I just…feel a bit silly, that’s all.”

Recalling my poetry was an excruciating experience. I was no stranger to performance art or musical theater thanks to my job but that had been a horror unto itself.

“We all enjoyed it, Rome.”

“Don’t lie to me.” I found the sweet little dip of her waist and gave her a light poke, eliciting a breathy giggle. Since my hands were already there, I took the chance to wrap myself around her a little more. “I hope I’ll get the chance to redo our date.”

“Of course you will. But honestly Rome, I loved it so much even though it was cut short.”

She sounded completely sincere, further proof she was too good for me.

“Can I tell you something?” she said tentatively.

“Anything, Ivy.”

“Before the date,” she began slowly, “part of me was worried Starlight Grove was going to be too small for you and James. That you would get bored of it eventually.”

And bored of her , was the unspoken implication.

“But I don’t feel that way anymore.”

I released a slow, relieved breath. “What changed?”

“Seeing you genuinely excited for our tiny run-down rink, just like I was. It made me realize that in the short time you’ve been in town and worked at the school, you never made us feel like we didn’t measure up.”

I thought back to the way I felt when I had first seen that job listing. When I had first googled Starlight Grove and seen the outdated website showing Stanley standing proudly in front of the welcome sign. It was so old his hair was a bright orange instead of the gray he sported today.

“There’s not really much to measure up to, Ivy,” I admitted to her quietly.

I could almost hear the audible click as something fell into place for Ivy. “You weren’t happy in New York or anywhere you lived?”

She gasped a little as I buried my nose into her neck. I wanted her scent on my skin as a comfort. A moment transported to happy childhood memories, slathering icing on still-too-hot cookies before gorging ourselves on the sticky mess.

My words came out stilted, each syllable feeling heavy. “I grew up in a small town a lot like this one, actually. But when I was thirteen, we started moving every couple of years. Two of my dads made ridiculous money in oil and gas.”

Ivy mulled over this. “Thirteen…so all through middle and high school?”

“Yep.”

“Hard time to be starting over again and again,” she said softly.

Of course as a teacher she would understand how cruel teenagers could be to those they perceived as different. I didn’t answer but my silence did it for me. Those years were veiled in a kind of humiliation that I still didn’t fully understand. It didn’t matter how much adult logic I applied to it.

Ivy rubbed gentle circles into my back. “Is that why you go by Rome and Mr. C?”

Always so perceptive.

“I stopped introducing myself as Romesh a long time ago. I made the choice to go by Mr. C on my first day of teaching because it was easier for me. And truth be told, as a defense mechanism too.”

I’d had enough assumptions made about me based on my name and the color of my skin to last several lifetimes.

“You could be Romesh here. If you wanted,” Ivy said tentatively.

I shrugged. “I’m used to Rome now. It feels more like me.”

“As long as that’s the reason. But even if it’s not…well, I don’t want to say I get it because I don’t and never will. But I understand why you would choose that.” She hugged me tight. “We do what we can in an unfair world.”

I tilted her chin up and kissed her. Timid and slow as we learned each other.

I was glad she didn’t tell me that I had nothing to worry about, push me to use my full name or tell me everything would be fine.

Maybe what I was about to say next would scare her but I couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“I need you to know, Ivy. This pack of ours. You, me, James and Logan. Nothing in my life has ever felt like this.”

Ivy seemed lost for words.

“You don’t have to say anything,” I continued. “I just wanted you to know.”

She kissed me hard, my face clasped in her small hands, pulling me down to her greedily.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” she said fiercely.

“Oh.” I was dumbfounded. “Good.”

We kissed a few more times, but it remained light and careful. Eventually we broke apart and she snuggled close. Her leg tangled with mine and I threw my arm over both her and James.

Once Ivy’s cheek was against my chest, she sighed happily and her breathing evened out into sleep. It was impossible not to join her, sinking slowly into the velvet night.