Page 50 of Knot Their Starlet

It reminds me of Ezra. It’s strange. Maybe everything reminds me of him, to a certain degree.

“Why’re you angry all the time?” The question bursts out of me before I can catch it and stuff it back down.

That’s a big question. A stupid one, if Elijah is as opposed to talking about his feelings as he seems to be.

Ezra always got frustrated at questions like that. Maybe because everything was too big for him to confront.

Ezra’s father was a big A-list actor. Larger than life. But Jonathan Fletcher carried within him the kind of anger that seeps into everyone around him.

You’d never know it looking at the photos of him online, or seeing him talk in his press conferences. The PR team he pays ridiculous amounts of money for would never let any hints of who he really is touch the mainstream media.

But that PR team exists to protect Jonathan Fletcher, not his son, and that ever-present anger became Ezra’s.

And it led to the explosive end of us. Our years of history, gone in a single moment.

But maybe things were doomed long before that night.

“Nevermind,” I mumble, feeling far too vulnerable. Like the question itself revealed more about me than I wanted it to. “Don’t wanna piss you off.”

His jaw works as he stares at me.

“You’re thinking an awful lot about what’d piss me off.”

“You always seem pissed off around me. I don’t think that’s a weird leap for me to make,” I huff.

I feel like I’m going insane. My throat feels tight and I can feel my pulse racing. My fingers reach up to brush against my neck as I fight the memories of Ezra’s hands there.

Elijah catches it. Of course he would.

“I’m not him. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Ezra was angry all the time, too,” I croak out.

Elijah’s jaw works as a flash of anger appears in his gaze as he stares at me.

Leo shifts behind us, stepping closer to me. His cozy warm paper scent, fainter than Elijah’s blood orange but far more comforting in this moment, washes over me.

“Just ‘cause you have your own shit doesn’t mean you go around beating on other people. Even if you were beaten as a kid.”

I blink up at Elijah in surprise. I never mentioned that Ezra was beaten by his father, so maybe this is him speaking from personal experience. Was he hurt by his father?

“Especially people weaker than you. That was a him problem,” Elijah says, his voice pitched low. His gaze cuts to Leo, over my shoulder. “I’m not gonna hurt her. You can chill the fuck out.”

“Okay,” Leo nods, taking a step back with his hands raised in surrender. His gaze lingers on me in a way that I can’t quite read.

“The only man I really had growing up was angry,” Elijah answers slowly, in a rare moment of vulnerability.

My eyes widen in surprise. This is progress. A whole lot of it, considering the kind of bickering we’ve done every time we’ve spoken in the past.

“Your dad or something?”

“Yeah.”

I nod slowly, feeling a strange urge to comfort him. Well, I guess it’s not that strange, considering I know it’s my omega instincts. Omegas are biologically wired to be drawn to alphas, to comfort and support them in the same way alphas are drawn to protect omegas. Well, at least in theory.

“So your daddy issues are why you’re such an asshole all the time,” I tease as I let out a huff of laughter.

His lips quirk up as he crosses his arms over his chest.