12. Heller

12

HELLER

S ergey holds me while I sleep. I should push him away and go home, but I can’t seem to muster the energy. I want to be in his warm arms. I don’t wake until nine o’clock the next morning.

Fuck. Storytime at the library starts at 10:30.

I try to escape Sergey’s arms, but he just holds me tighter and kisses my head. My inner omega preens at that, which is annoying. My inner omega only comes out to play when I take heat-inducing medication for clients who are into that. It’s not my favorite service to provide because my inner omega is a whiny, needy creature. The last thing I need is to deal with him now.

“Sergey, I need to go,” I say.

He startles. “Huh?”

“I need to go, and your enormous body is trapping me.”

He rolls onto his back, but doesn’t release me, so I end up rolling with him and resting atop his body. “Sergey. Sweetie. I need to go see my kid.”

I don’t know why I call Lark my kid. That isn’t fair. If Sergey ends up in the welding social circles here in Anchorage, he’ll meet Max, who is Lark’s actual dad. I’m just setting Sergey up for future confusion. But I don’t care.

“Oh. Sorry.” Sergey finally lets me go. I climb out of bed as quickly as humanly possible and start locating my clothes. We took them off in penguin shifter syle, but we didn’t fold them like we were supposed to.

“How old is your kid?” Sergey asks.

I look back at him. “What?” Surely he didn’t just ask about Lark.

“How old is your kid?”

“Um, a year and a half? Why?” The ‘why’ comes off a little harsher than I intended and Sergey blanches.

“Sorry. I was just curious. What’s their name?”

I stop mid-reach for my underwear. “What’s with the twenty-questions?”

Sergey thinks about that for a moment, then shakes his head. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. We don’t have to talk about this now.”

Now? As in he wants to talk about it later? The sex between us was intense, but I warned him that I’m a one and done kind of guy.

“Thanks for all the orgasms,” I say. I put on my underwear and pants at the same time so Sergey doesn’t get any ideas for an encore. I don’t think my ass could handle it, even if I wasn’t running late. “Best of luck with your forge and all of that.”

“Thank you. I had a really good time.” He sits up, but he doesn’t get up to kiss me goodbye or any other sentimental nonsense that alphas try sometimes. That’s a good sign.

“We may end up seeing each other again because you’re working with Cy. That doesn’t have to be weird, right? We can just act like two adults who had fun together once, and now are polite acquaintances?”

He nods. “Of course. I won’t make it weird for you, I promise.”

I’m not sure what response I was expecting from him, but it wasn’t that.

“So you’re cool with this being a casual, one-time thing?” I ask.

“It never has to be more than you want it to be,” he says.

That’s not the same thing as agreeing to never message me again, but it’s close enough.

“Great. Thanks.” I pull on my sweater and throw my scarf around my neck. As I walk forward, my ass smarts. After almost fifteen years of aggressively fucking around, it takes a lot to make that part of my body ache.

“Bye,” I say, heading for the door.

“Bye.” He remains on the bed. That surprises me. The sex was very good. I assumed he’d ask to keep casually fucking me, especially after his cryptic “it never has to be more than you want it to be.” But no.

I twist the doorknob. “I’m leaving.”

“Okay. Have a good day.”

That’s it? Have a good day? I march out the door, not sure what I’m so upset about. I don’t want him to come after me and make a big scene. Except maybe I do. At least a little scene. After all, I rode him for hours last night. It was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before, and I’ve experienced a lot.

When I get in the elevator, I pull up his name. This is bizarre for me. After I’m done with a guy, I’m done. I never want to message them again. But I send Sergey a text anyway.

My ass hurts like hell.

I have this pang of fear after I send it. Maybe he won’t text me back. The idea of that bothers me more than it should. Fortunately, I get a response almost immediately.

I’m sorry. But not that sorry. XOXO

That’s sweet. Sergey is a nice guy. I shouldn’t text him again. Our night together is over.

My fingers don’t seem to get the memo.

You must be chafed too.

Ugh. Why do I care? I slide my phone back into my pocket as the elevator door opens. I step out into the lobby, beelining for the door to the parking garage when my phone dings. I remind myself that it doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t be messaging Sergey in the first place. Ignoring his message is the best thing to do.

I pull my phone out of my pocket.

It was worth it. Thank you, Heller. I had the time of my life.

I jam my phone back into my pocket. I will not text back. That’s the perfect note to end on. I find my car and get the engine running. Luckily, Hotel Captain Cook heats their parking lot, so it doesn’t take long to warm it up. Just before I drive away, I take out my phone and send him another text because, apparently, I have no self-control.

I had the time of my life too.

Regret coils in my gut. It isn’t fair for me to send him a text like that knowing I’ll never have sex with him again. I’m leading him on, and I never do that to men I’ve messed around with. I always make a clean break. It’s best for everyone.

I pull out of my parking space and drive toward the grocery store. While I get bananas and a bagel for breakfast, I wait for my phone to ding. What is it that I want Sergey to say? We ended the conversation on a good note. There’s no need for him to text me back. It isn’t until I’ve checked out and I’m on my way out to my car that the ding finally comes. I pull my phone out with shaking fingers.

If you ever want to see me again, you can. No pressure.

A wave of relief rushes over me. Does that mean I want to see him again? I’ve never wanted that before. I like my independence. What is it about this guy that gets to me?

I set my phone down and drive straight to Max’s and Eli’s house. I just need to distract myself and this weird fixation will be over. When I get there, a familiar beat-up sedan is parked in the drive-way. That car belongs to Felix and Toby. What are they doing here on a Thursday morning?

I grab the bananas and head inside. I open the door to find Toby on the couch in the living room, crying. Felix sits next to him with eyes are pink and puffy too. Eli looks up as I enter. He seems sad too.

“What happened?” I ask, closing the door behind me.

Toby sobs, covering his face with his hands.

“Toby’s mothers were in a fatal car crash last night,” Eli says.

“You mean…”

“They didn’t make it,” Felix explains.

Toby’s mothers died? That doesn’t seem possible.

“Where is Louisa?” I ask. Toby’s omega mom was her twin sister.

“She’s telling Toby’s sisters,” Felix says.

“Max is in the nursery with Lou, Len and Vi. Maybe you could take them all to the library?” Eli suggests.

Lou, Len, and Vi are Toby’s and Felix’s kids.

“Okay. I can do that. Is there anything else you need?” I ask Felix. Toby is still crying.

“A babysitter would be really helpful,” Felix says. “There’s extra fish paste in the fridge, and we brought their car seats in. They’re on the dining room table.”

“Great. Thanks.” As I walk away, tears burn in my eyes. I can’t imagine what Toby must be going through right now. He just left the Gentoo community a year ago. He won’t be allowed to go to the funeral, which will be held at the Gentoo church. You have to be in good standing with the church to attend. And I’m sure he hasn’t sorted through all the guilt that comes with leaving his family behind. This must be devastating for him.

I open the door to the nursery. Inside Max is sitting on the floor next to four Gentoo chicks—one bigger than the rest. I’m not surprised Lark is in their penguin form. They like to be a penguin every time Vi, Len, and Lou visit.

Lark waddles over to me. Like all Gentoo chicks, their wings are oversized and their feathers are so fluffy. I love seeing them in this form. I crouch down and hold out my arms to them. They waddle faster, their body wobbling back and forth with each step. I scoop them up. They hold their wings up for kisses.

“One kiss,” I say, kissing the right wing. “Two kisses.” I kiss the left. Then I move to their webbed feet, kissing each bright orange toe. “Do you want to go to the library?” I ask.

They nod their beak enthusiastically.

“I think we should all go to the library,” I say, not sure how I’m going to wrangle four Gentoo chicks without some sort of leash or baby carrier.

Max gets up off the floor. “Thank you, Heller. I really appreciate you taking the kids. When they get to be too much, you can drop them off at Otis’s house. He and Kade have time to watch them today.”

One thing I love about Max and Eli is the community they can provide to Lark. It’s hard to regret giving Lark parents who can provide them with lots of little penguin/polar bear shifter friends.

Max walks toward the door. I almost let him leave without mentioning the conversation we had yesterday. But I have to bring it up. I can’t keep putting this off.

“Hey, Max?”

He turns around to face me. “Yes?”

“Could we talk tonight after Lark goes to bed? You, Eli, and me?” I ask.

He smiles. “Of course.” He reaches out and gives my shoulder a squeeze. “I think that’s a good idea. You’re important to us, Heller. We want everything about this situation to feel good to you.” He leans over and gives Lark a kiss on their forehead. “Bye-bye Lark. Uncle Heller is taking you to the library, and then you get to go play with friends. I’ll see you when you get home.”

The Uncle Heller stings more than it has in the past. It’s a relief that we can talk about it soon.