Chapter Seventeen

Close Familiarity (8 Letters)

Seb

I almost told him I was in love with him the night of the pool party.

Several times.

The moment he kissed me. The moment he told me about his tail. The moment he got a little choked up when he showed it to me.

That awful, gut-wrenching moment after we'd both come, when I'd completely forgotten that it had all just been a "lesson," that none of it was real, until he asked how he'd done and I remembered in a soul-destroying rush that this was all just practice for him.

I'd almost blurted it out then. I'd almost told him that this was all real to me, that I was a fucking idiot who kept hoping it was something more than it was. That he didn't need to be so worried about showing future partners his sweet little tail, because I'd seen it now, and I would stay with him forever. He wouldn't need to ever show anyone else if he didn't want to.

It'd felt like my heart was cracking in half. Kissing him had been a bad idea. Such a bad idea. Keeping that off the table had been my only barrier. The only way to protect myself from this crushing me completely once it was all over.

But now we'd smashed that barrier down, and I had no defences left.

I couldn't tell him anyway. That would be unbelievably unfair and selfish, because if I told him I loved him, it would mean I was expecting some kind of response. I'd be forcing him to acknowledge the feelings I was throwing at him unprompted and out of the blue, when he'd been completely honest about what this was. I'd be forcing him to… make some kind of decision. Like an ultimatum.

Like a threat. Love me back or this all ends.

I couldn't force him to love me, and I definitely couldn't bear the thought of causing Larkin any kind of stress or guilt that he absolutely did not deserve to feel.

So no. I wouldn't ever tell him. I wouldn't do that to him.

Monday night once I got home after the party had been a little bleak, to be honest. It had ended well—Larkin and I had sat together on the loungers, just talking and joking around until people finally started drifting home and calling cabs.

When he'd texted asking me to meet him in the spare bedroom, I'd been convinced he was going to tell me he was done with his lessons, that he felt confident enough to just go for it with the wrestlers. I'd gotten shamefully jealous and surly when he'd declined coming into the hot tub with me, saying he was going to "watch the guys" in the pool. Now that I knew the real reason, I felt incredibly guilty for leaving him most of the afternoon. I just hadn't wanted to get in the way—be the sad wolf trailing after him while he flirted with all the wrestlers.

He'd seemed lighter after telling me about his tail. Like a weight had been lifted. I hoarded that secret little piece of him I now had, beyond grateful to share something intimate with him that wasn't just sex-related.

But my house had felt unbearably empty when I got home, and I hadn't slept well. I was sluggish at the gym on Tuesday morning, which Ludo thankfully just attributed to the couple of beers I'd had the night before. He wasn't any better off.

I didn't need to pick up Holt this morning, because he was coming in with Taylor, and by the time I got into work, I'd managed to squash down the confusing tangle of emotions churning in my brain. I knew it probably wasn't all that healthy, but needs must. If I turned up at work acting strange, Larkin would assume it was about what he'd shared with me last night. Something so vulnerable that he'd struggled to tell me.

And my instinct had been right. When I opened the office door, his head popped up at his desk with an unsure smile, anxiety making his big blue eyes overly bright.

I made sure to give him a proper smile, which seemed to relax him. His shoulders relaxed and he grinned wide, reaching for the cupholder on his desk, which held four drinks today.

"Coffee or hot chocolate?" he asked teasingly.

"Coffee," I said straight away, because I actually did need it this morning. He laughed and tugged one of the cups free to hand it to me, then immediately grabbed another and took a big gulp, which meant he'd been waiting for me to pick. Affection tightened my chest. I tried to stamp it down and failed.

"I think Holt will be busy all day with Taylor," he said as I sat down on the couch and unfolded my newspaper, "so maybe we could finish that crossword? You know, from the other night. I've been thinking about thirteen across. I can't remember if we have any letters for it already, but I think I've got it."

I smiled over at him. "Sure."

"Noice." He spun his chair from side to side, grinning at me, then nodded at my paper. "Anything good happening in the news?"

I chuckled. "Anything good? No. Never good."

"Really? So why do you read it every day?" he asked curiously.

I shrugged. "Just habit, I guess. It passes the time in here."

He snorted. "Yeah, the role of being Holt's bodyguard is pretty uneventful. He's such a diva, dude. Although Taylor did mention something about the Mafia and a rival wrestling league boss who might be trying to muscle in on Holt's turf."

A bemused frown twitched my brows. " Taylor said that?"

"Yeah." Larkin nodded, chewing on his lip as he gazed at me worriedly. "I hope it's not true. That would put you in, like, danger."

My mouth twitched. I was pretty sure Taylor must have been joking, but if he hadn't been… Well. My job might get a bit more interesting.

"I'll be sure to keep an eye out for any signs of rival wrestling gang activity," I told him solemnly. After a few seconds of him staring at me wide-eyed, his nose scrunched up and he laughed.

"You're just messing with me." Then he sobered, back to nibbling on his lip. "Right?"

"I'm pretty sure we'd never hear the end of it if someone really was trying to steal business from Holt."

Larkin chuckled. "Yeah, that's true. He'd have me stalking them online and creating sock accounts to shit-talk them on social media."

I had no idea what a sock account was, so I just grinned and turned back to my paper.

"Don't forget your coffee," Larkin blurted, nodding at where I'd placed it on the coffee table.

"I won't. Thank you for getting it."

"That's okay. So are we still… um, hanging out later?" A blush stained his cheeks as he shot me a nervous but hopeful grin.

My heart ached. I was feeling a little fragile after last night, but I couldn't say no to him, and I didn't want to go back on our plans when they'd already been moved once.

"Uh-huh." I grinned at him so he wouldn't detect any of the painful, desperate longing that churned under the surface at the thought of kissing him again, seeing him so vulnerable, being skin to skin with him.

"Cool." He fiddled with a pen on his desk. "I'm looking forward to it. Not just… Um, I mean I'm looking forward to actually hanging out again too. Unless… uh, unless you don't want to—"

"You can stay as long as you like, Larkin," I said calmly. "I'm looking forward to it too."

And that was my problem. Looking forward. Always looking forward. Already anticipating the pain of this all ending instead of just enjoying what I could have of him now. I had to get my fucking head on straight. I had to stop letting this get to me so much and try to think of the positives, not just how devastating it was eventually going to be.

Larkin and I had gotten closer as friends. I was helping him, which did make me happy—I wanted to help him in any way I could. And I was getting to touch him and kiss him and be close to him in all the ways I'd never thought I'd get to experience. That was enough.

That had to be enough.

—

When Holt and Taylor got to the office a short while later, Holt was wearing his cat-eye sunglasses, which meant he was feeling a little rough. But he was in a good mood, and seemed excited for Taylor's first day.

"I got you both coffee," Larkin said quickly, reaching for the cupholder on his desk. "I got you an iced coffee, Taylor, 'cause that's what you were drinking yesterday."

"Thanks, Lark." Taylor beamed at him and accepted both cups, then passed one to Holt. "Did you both have fun yesterday?"

Larkin and I exchanged a very quick look.

"Yeah, man," he blurted a little too loudly. "Tonnes. Thanks for doing it."

"It was great," I added politely.

Holt was busy selecting a donut from one of the four trays they'd picked up on the way in, but Taylor was eyeing us both with a tiny smile on his face. He didn't say anything else though, just turned to Holt and smoothed a hand up his back.

"Shall we take the rest of these to the backstage area for the wrestlers?" He picked up three of the boxes. "Help yourselves, guys."

"Thanks, T-bone. Boss man." Larkin grinned at them as they made their way to the door. The moment they were gone, he snorted and pushed back his chair to bound over to the box on the coffee table. "The wrestlers won't eat them. They all live on protein shakes and, like, boiled chicken and rice. I could never."

"Most of them ate the burgers and stuff yesterday," I pointed out, leaning in to inspect the donuts when Larkin flipped open the box lid.

"Without buns, though." He shook his head and selected a jelly donut. "The bun's the best bit."

I laughed. "Is it?"

"Yeah." He grinned at me, and instead of retreating to his desk, sat down beside me on the couch. "I love bread. My dad has always made our bread. Homemade bread is the nuts."

"Those buns yesterday definitely came from the store. Can you imagine Holt spending his morning baking dozens of buns?"

Larkin snorted as he took a bite of his donut, sending powdered sugar spraying into the air. I smiled and tried not to stare at him too overtly. If I kissed him right now, he'd taste even sweeter than usual.

"Has your dad taught you how to make bread?" I asked as he dipped a long finger into the jelly in the centre of his donut.

He nodded as he popped it into his mouth to suck. "Mhmm."

The fact that he wasn't even doing it to be seductive—I didn't think Larkin knew how to even attempt to be seductive—made it so much worse. I wanted to pull his finger free and sink my tongue into his mouth, taste him and jelly and powdered sugar all at once.

"He taught me when I was a kid, and then he taught Nolan," he continued. "But I haven't done it for a few years now. Bet I'd still make a bangin' loaf, though."

I chuckled. "I like cooking, but I'm so bad at baking. Even though I always follow the recipes precisely, which everyone says is the most important thing, it just never turns out right."

"You're probably over-kneading." Larkin stuffed the last of his donut into his mouth and then grabbed one of my hands, lifting it between us. "Look at these things. They're lethal weapons, dude. You're probably pummelling that dough until it begs for mercy."

I grinned and flexed my fingers, resisting the urge to thread them through his. "Probably."

"I can show you sometime. If you want." He was still holding on to my hand. "How to make bread properly, I mean."

My heart squeezed. "Sure. That'd be nice. Thanks."

He grinned at me, then finally released my hand to reach for the donut box again. "You want one? Wait, let me pick which one I think you'd have…"

I let out a calming breath while he wasn't looking. He was killing me. A tiny part of me had always clung to the belief that, even if Larkin had wanted me back, we would never have worked. We were too different. The age gap was too big. We'd have nothing in common and even less to talk about.

But it was so easy between us. And he was so unexpectedly sweet. All the little things he did for people without expecting any fanfare—like how he looked after Cora every time Corey was performing without any complaints, and how he picked up coffee most mornings, and said hi to everyone, and always remembered little details that people told him so he could ask them about it the next time they spoke.

He got distracted easily, but when he paid attention, he made sure to take everything in. He was kind, and soft-hearted under his posturing, and generous with his time.

Whoever he ended up with was the luckiest asshole in the world and I already hated them.

"Pumpkin cruller," he declared, leaning back and holding it out to me.

It touched me more than it should have that he'd gotten it right.

"Yep." I smiled and took it from him.

"Yes!" He laughed, his wings fluttering with pleasure. "Knew it."

Taking another donut from the box, he munched on it and peered down at my newspaper with interest. I could tell he wasn't intentionally sitting a touch closer than necessary and brushing my arm with his. Larkin was just a touchy-feely person who tended to ignore personal boundaries when he felt comfortable with someone.

I didn't mind. At all. I wanted to wrap my arm around his shoulders and pull him closer until he was nestled into my side. Obviously, I didn't.

"You weren't kidding," he said after scanning the front page. "This is all depressing as fuck."

I huffed. "Yeah."

"No one in my house reads or watches the news. My parents say it messes with their energy or whatever. Now I kind of understand why."

"My dad's read the paper every morning for my whole life." I smiled faintly. "I used to go and get it for him when I was a kid to earn an allowance."

"That was all you had to do to earn an allowance? Lucky, dude."

I chuckled. "No, I had to do other stuff too. What about you?"

He huffed. "I had to do some of the typical stuff, like take out the trash and do the dishes, but there was other stuff that was, like, so embarrassing."

My smile widened. "Like what?"

He squirmed a little, a blush staining his cheeks. "Like dance parties in the living room with my parents. That was when I was still really little," he made sure to clarify quickly. "Like, when Nolan was a baby. And going foraging with my dad, and helping him in the garden. But he'd always get distracted and make me go look at a bug or something he'd found. I don't think he actually needed me to help, he just wanted to spend time with me because he's a sentimental dork."

I laughed. "He loves you. You're his son. And that sounds fun, not really like a chore."

"I guess." A shy smile curved his mouth. "It was fun. I haven't been able to do it as much since I started working here."

"Do you like gardening?"

"Well, I mean, I'm fae, so we're all drawn to nature or whatever. But my parents are all about nature and stuff, so I guess I inherited it." He made a face. "I wouldn't wanna go live in a hut in the middle of nowhere, though. Or in Otherworld where they don't have TV or the internet or fast food."

I chuckled. "Have you ever been?"

His nose wrinkled. "Nah. My parents never took us. I'm not really interested. I like it here."

I nodded, glanced at the door, then leaned in to murmur, "Crossbody is an arrogant ass. Do you think they're all like that?"

He snickered. "Yeah, he totally is. So far up his own butt, for real. And he's the wild prince who left the court to pursue a career in professional wrestling. Can you imagine what the rest of them are like?"

"I wouldn't want to," I said wryly. "People complain about werewolves being a lot of things—too aggressive, too rowdy, too uncivilised—but you'll never hear them calling us snooty."

"All the werewolves I've met have been really nice," Larkin said eagerly. "And you're not at all aggressive, dude. Or rowdy and uncivilised."

I shrugged. "I probably could be, though. Around the right group of other werewolves. Pack mentality and all that."

"I don't believe it, bro," Larkin declared. "You're too…"

"Sensible and boring?" I gave him a wry smile.

He frowned and shook his head. "No. You're too… nice."

" Oh, I'm nice ." I teasingly rolled my eyes. "Because that's so much better."

"In the best way, dude." He seemed to grow a little flustered. "I mean it in a good way. You're awesome. You're just… the nicest person."

I tried not to let my smile get too soft and affectionate as I glanced over at him, warmth filling my chest. "Thanks."

"I wanted to thank you for…" He looked down, fiddling with the edge of my newspaper. "For being so cool last night. About what I told you. It's helped me… not feel so weird about it."

My chest squeezed tight, the warmth flaring into painful heat. "You don't need to thank me, Lark. But I'm glad it helped." Deciding to take a risk, I reached over and squeezed his knee. "There's nothing you could tell me that would make me like you less or think of you differently. Nothing."

"Thanks," he said shyly, his knee starting to bounce a little under my palm. Then he looked up and glanced at my mouth before meeting my gaze, his blue eyes so big and open. "I was thinking that… maybe later, we could practise more—"

The door opened, making me whip my hand off Larkin's knee as his head snapped around. Holt swept inside, grabbed four donuts, then beelined straight for the door again.

"Going to hang out with Taylor for a while in his new office."

We were silent for a few moments after the door shut behind him, then Larkin turned to stare at me with an alarmed expression.

"You don't think they're gonna use the donuts for anything weird, do you?"

I managed a chuckle, my insides buzzing with the urge to gently steer him back to what he'd been about to say. Practise more what ? "Maybe."

"I'm pretty sure he only took ones with holes in them." He leaned forward to peer into the box. "Oh my god, dude, he did ! He's such a perv. They both are."

"Guess we better avoid Taylor's office today, then."

"What if this place starts going to shit because boss man is too busy getting dicked down in the office every day to actually run it?" He sighed heavily. "I'm gonna have to pick up the slack."

I gave him an affectionate smile, letting my shoulder rest briefly against his. "I have total faith in you, Lark."