5. Slade

5

SLADE

A t the edge of the trailer park a huge tree looms over the houses. Maybe there was a time when it was alive and pretty, but now it’s a dead husk of its former self with an old rope hanging from one of the branches. Georgina says there used to be a tire swing, but someone took the tire. That probably was for the best. I don’t think the rotting branch could hold a tire now, much less the weight of a child.

Dalton is visiting, and we’ve never gotten along. He thinks she’s his personal ATM, car repair shop, and bartender. I think he’s full of shit. It’s better if I stay out of it.

I sit down on the ground and rest my back against the trunk of the tree. The land around here is nothing but rolling hills of prairie grass and wildflowers as far as the eye can see. It’s still hot, even this late at night, and a sheen of sweat coats my face and arms. I wonder if it’s any cooler in Austin. I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.

Tonight is my last night at Georgina’s house.

In the distance, a small figure walks toward me. It’s late enough at night that I can’t see who it is from this distance. As the figure gets closer, I recognize Quin’s face. He’s hunched over, hugging his chest. His body shakes, like he’s sobbing.

What’s going on? Is he crying?

I wave to him, but he doesn’t notice. He keeps walking until he almost runs into me.

He stops, his body straightening. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” He wipes a hand across his face. His cheeks are pink and a little puffy.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Yeah. Sorry.” He drags his hand across his face again and sniffles. He is definitely not okay.

I know I’m not the guy who gets to wipe away his tears and tell him everything will be fine, but I hate the idea of this sweet, sunshine boy hurting.

“Want to play a game?” I ask.

He hunches over again and looks away from me. “You don’t need to do that.”

“Do what? Play a game with a cute guy? Yeah, I know.”

He meets my gaze. “Cute?” His voice is fragile, like he thinks I’m teasing him.

“Yeah, cute. Would you like it better if I called you hot? Or sexy?”

His cheeks flush a bright shade of pink. “Oh, I wouldn’t… I mean… I don’t know. I’m not… that.”

I let out a breathy laugh. “That’s not true.”

He hugs his chest, clearly uncomfortable. I’m fucking this up.

“You’ve lived here your whole life, right?” I say.

He nods.

“Well, everyone around here is either a raccoon shifter themselves, so they wouldn’t be interested in you, or not allowed to date raccoon shifters. Otherwise, you’d have your pick of alphas to choose from. When you leave home you will, I promise.”

He considers me for a long moment. “Is that what your foster mom said? That you aren’t allowed to date raccoon shifters?”

I can’t help but laugh. “No. She likes you. It must be all that bread you bring over. It’s hard to dislike someone who gives you warm bread.”

He smiles. “Yeah, that’s true.”

I pat the patch of ground next to me. It’s hard and prickly, but he ventures over and sits down gingerly.

“You said you wanted to play a game?”

“I’m afraid that was just a shameless ploy to get you to talk to me,” I admit.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. After all, you’re legal now,” I tease.

His face turns an adorable shade of pink.

We just sit there for a while, the light dimming all around us. Then Quin takes in a deep breath and squares his shoulders. “What about truth or dare?”

“What about it?” I ask.

“Would you play it? With me, that is. I mean, it’s okay if you don’t want to. I was just thinking that since we were here, and you mentioned a game. But you said you didn’t actually mean it, so I’m sorry?—”

“Yes,” I say, interrupting whatever endless ramble he got caught up in.

He hugs his knees to his chest. “Okay. Thanks.”

His quiet “thanks” makes me feel guilty. I’ve definitely avoided him the last few years. His brothers made it clear that they didn’t approve, and I didn’t want to cause any trouble. Maybe I hurt his feelings in the process. That was never my intention.

“I’ll go first,” he offers. “If you like.”

“Okay. Truth or dare.”

He hides his face between his knees. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him talk to someone besides his brothers, unless you count teachers. That’s not uncommon for raccoon shifter litters. From what I understand, the schools have to keep them in the same classes whenever possible. It’s a state mandate enforced by the raccoon shifter counsel. Quin hasn’t ever needed to make other friends.

“Truth,” he finally says.

“Why were you crying tonight?” I ask.

He turns his head, resting his cheek against his knee. “My brothers are moving away.”

“All of them?”

His eyes become glassy. “Yes.”

“That has to be hard,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

He buries his face between his knees again. I give him time to compose himself. After a few moments, he leans back and wipes away his tears. “Sorry. I don’t usually cry like this.”

“It’s okay.”

He turns to me. “Truth or dare.”

I shouldn’t have agreed to this game. So many things could go wrong. Quin and I aren’t junior high kids anymore. We can’t get away with doing stupid shit just to prove that we’re cool.

“Truth,” I say. Nothing too terrible can come from that.

“Do you really think I’m sexy?” God, the way he looks at me. He’s hanging on my every word like there isn’t anything more important than what I think of him.

“Of course I do.”

I expect him to blush or smile, but he narrows his eyes and says, “Why?”

“Why do I think you’re sexy?” I ask.

“Yeah. I’m not the sexy one. That’s Silver. Or Link, if you’re into jocks. Lots of omegas are, apparently. Even Coin has this goth, hipster thing going for him. But me…” he shrugs.

Quin can’t see himself. At least not without comparing himself to his brothers. He sits there, poised for my answer, but I don’t know how to tell him how special he is without revealing how much I like him.

I guess that cat’s already out of the bag anyway.

“You smell like warm bread and vanilla,” I say.

He scrunches up his nose. “That isn’t sexy.”

“Are you trying to tell me that if an alpha walked up to you smelling like cookies and bread, you wouldn’t want to kiss him?”

Quin gives me this cute, bashful smile. “Oh. Um, I don’t know.”

“That’s what I thought.”

His shoulders tense and his smile fades. He looks me straight in the eye. “Does that mean you want to kiss me?”

Fucking hell . There’s no way to answer that question without getting myself into trouble.

“I want a lot of things, Quin. It doesn’t mean I can have them.”

He glances down at my lips. “You could have me. If you wanted.”

He doesn’t understand. I’m half grizzly bear shifter, and we don’t do casual flings. Our souls yearn for a deep romantic connection as early as sixteen or seventeen. It started last year for me. The desire to find a man who I can love is overwhelming sometimes.

Once we’ve given our hearts to someone, that’s it. We’ll love them forever. Which is why I have to remember Quin isn’t a grizzly. Most guys our age aren’t ready for that kind of commitment.

“I do want you, but I can’t get involved with you.” I almost tell him I’m leaving tomorrow, but given that his brothers are too, I don’t want to pour salt on the wound.

“Because you’re in the cartel,” he says.

“What?”

He bites his lip. “Sorry. Silver said you were.”

I can’t blame him. If I had a brother like Quin, I’d say whatever was necessary to keep him away from me, too.

“I’m not in the cartel, but I’m no good for you, Quin.”

He narrows his eyes. “Why?”

“It’s complicated. But trust me, I’m no good for anyone right now.”

Even another grizzly wouldn’t want me. I’m only half grizzly, which is a hard sell for most omegas. And then there’s my moms. Family matters to grizzlies. They care where you come from—who your people are. No grizzly parents would ever let a guy like me bond to their omega son.

It’s better if I keep to myself. Jake’s half grizzly, too. If I can get an apartment for us and provide a stable life for him, he might be able to attract a mate in high school. Then one of us won’t have to end up alone.

“What if I don’t mind complicated?” Quin asks.

“You don’t get it. My younger brother is stuck in foster care. I need to make enough money to get my own place so the state will let me be his legal guardian.”

Quin’s lips twist into a smug smile. “Then I was right about you.”

“What do you mean?”

“My brothers are always saying bad things about you. That you’re in the cartel or you fix stolen cars. But I know you’re a good guy. I can tell.” He looks into my eyes like I’m something special—like I’m someone he wants. Alarm bells go off in my head because I know he’s wrong about me. I’ve fixed dozens of stolen cars, just like his brother said, not to mention the things I’ve done for Gary. I don’t deserve Quin’s admiration.

But I inhale deep, and he smells of warm bread and vanilla. He smiles up at me, his dimples popping, and I can almost see the possibility of something between us. I’d come back to the trailer park on the weekend to spend time with him. His brothers would be gone, so no one would stop us. He’d be excited to see me and jump into my arms. We’d date for a year or so before I asked him to be mine. We’d raise Jake together and have kids of our own—kids who would be adorable raccoon shifters, like him.

The fantasy only exists in my head for a second before all the reasons it would never work stack like dominoes. I’d have nowhere to stay on the weekend. I doubt Quin’s moms would let me stay with them, and Georgina’s room will undoubtedly go to another kid in the foster care system. Quin’s brothers might be clueless while we’re dating, but they’d never let me bond to him. And I highly doubt Quin wants to raise a fifteen-year-old kid when he’s only eighteen himself.

“You deserve someone better than me,” I say.

With that, I stand up and walk away. My heart screams at me to turn back. I don’t know if I’ll ever meet a guy I like more than Quin. He’s like happiness, safety, and home wrapped up in a person. I wish I could be with him.

But he was wrong about me. I’m not good.

At least this way, he never has to learn the truth.