Page 21 of Omega’s Forward

Stop it.

I get through the skate. Nobody says anything to me about it so I must look normal from the outside. Inside I am a kid again and completely useless.

Afterwards, I stand under the shower for too long and think about him again.

Not even the good part. The bit before. He was shouting at me about his father. Something about Gordie really had him riled. And then he was on my counter with his legs round me.

I cannot stop thinking about him. Or about the fact that he will be waiting for me when I get home.

That is the situation. I towel off and get dressed and try to be a person who knows nothing about Everett Rourke.

The other thing that I saw in my kitchen was that he was not cold. Everett Rourke has been pure ice at me since the day he walked into Gordie’s office and told me to get out, but in my kitchen he was not ice at all.

He was pure fire against me. Nothing but fire and passion.

I can’t work him out at all.

“Hey, Callahan.”

JP is in front of me with his bag on his shoulder. “We’re going to McNally’s.”

“I’ve got things to do at the house.”

“No you haven’t.”

He is right. All I have at the house is Everett Rourke behind a shut door.

“Linus is coming,” JP says. “Come on.”

“Fine. One drink.”

“Sure.”

He sits down on the bench next to me instead of leaving. Here it comes.

“You smell like an omega,” he says.

I keep doing my laces. “I smell like a rink.”

“Brody.”

“Leave it.”

“It’s in your gear. It was in your gear on Tuesday as well.” He is not enjoying this. That is the worst part. “I’m not being a prick. I’m asking.”

“I know you are.”

“So?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He looks at me. I have played with JP for fifteen years and he knows the difference between me lying and me not being able to say something. He gets up.

“Drinks,” he says. “You’re paying.”

He goes. I sit there with one skate off and keep thinking about Everett and Gordie. The whole thing is weird.

If I’d known that Everett even existed and that father and son were estranged, I’d probably not have any questions. Fathers and sons argue all the time. Hell, if my dad was ever around I’d almost certainly be arguing with him.