“Kai,” Micah croaked through the phone. “Spike’s awake.”
A noise escaped Kai. All he knew was the waves of relief that crashed through his chest, the burn in his eyes that trickled down his cheeks. “Fuck. I’m so glad.”
“Me, too. The—The EMT’s checking him over now. I think they’re going to take him to the hospital. He needs observation.”
Kai closed his eyes. He’d take that any day, as long as it meant he’d still have an alpha to return to. “I’ll be there.”
“Where are you?” Micah sniffled.
“On my way to the airport. Tell Spike—” Kai swallowed. “Tell him I’m sorry. And that I’m coming home.”
“Will do,” Micah said softly. “Be safe.”
“You be safe,” Kai muttered. “And... and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left.”
Micah huffed, his voice thick. “I’m sorry, too. I love you, Kai. I shouldn’t have tried to break up with you or Spike. But I still think you should’ve joined the team. It’s been good for you.”
Was it, really? Kai closed his eyes, his arms too empty. Micah’s voice was soothing in his ear. Kai had missed their phone calls—when he could pretend that Spike or Micah was right next to him, just a kiss away. “Love you, too.”
When Micah spoke again, there was the tiniest smile in his voice. “We’re waiting. Come home to us.”
38
Micah
The moment Micah ended the call, uncertainty crept up on him. Had it been too forward of him, telling Kai that Spike wanted him home, too?
He made his way over to the ambulance, where the EMTs had strapped Spike onto the stretcher. Micah followed Spike into the back of the ambulance, his heart squeezing when Spike sought his gaze.
“Feeling better?” Micah croaked. His eyes still burned. His throat felt raw, and there was no sight in the world better than Spike cracking a smile up at him. Except it would’ve been better if Kai were here, too.
“Yeah,” Spike grumbled. “I’m fine. I don’t have to go to the hospital.”
“You had a concussion,” Micah chided, the tension in his chest easing a little. He still remembered the stark fear of Spike not waking up. “I want to make sure you’re completely well before you come home.”
“You care about me, huh?” Spike smiled crookedly, his gaze raking over Micah’s face. But there was a shadow in his eyes, the same uncertainty that Micah felt.
As the EMTs closed the ambulance doors and they settled in for the ride, Spike reached out to Micah. Just a few fingers wriggling in the air between them—but they spoke so much. They said, I want you closer.
Micah took his hand, his throat growing tight. Spike’s warmth soaked into his skin. It wasn’t enough. But they were in a moving vehicle, and Micah wasn’t supposed to stand and crowd around Spike right now.
“The drunks beat you up so badly,” Micah said, breaking the silence. “You didn’t have to step in, Spike. You could’ve died. If they’d brought guns, if they’d hit you the wrong way... I was so worried.” His voice trembled.
Spike glared. “I wasn’t letting you face them by yourself. And I’m not gonna die. I made you a promise, okay? I’m here to protect you no matter what.”
Micah’s throat squeezed tight. “So you just happened to... be there?”
“I followed you.” Spike looked away, his ears turning pink. “I know I’m not supposed to.”
Not for the first time, Micah realized how much he loved this alpha. How much he cherished this man. As much as Micah hated the injuries that Spike had received, he was grateful for Spike’s presence. For the simple brush of their hands. The sight of Spike blushing again.
It was such a small thing, but Micah had missed this most, the easy intimacy between them.
“I’m sorry for sending you away,” he blurted. Just so Spike wouldn’t notice Micah holding his hand for so long. “I’m sorry for not believing in you. I just... I felt so terrible that day in front of Bernard. I’m not like the other omegas at the college, Spike. I don’t have the looks. I’m twenty years older than you—”
“And I don’t care about any of that.” Spike reached up, stroking Micah’s cheek with his knuckles. “You should know it by now.”
Micah bowed his head, embarrassment burning his cheeks. He knew that. “There was that... that thing with Bernard. I’d never mentioned it. I thought it would never come up again.”
Spike huffed, caressing Micah’s cheekbone with his thumb, a soft touch. It was just one point of contact, but it meant acceptance. And that felt like everything in the world. “I was surprised. Wasn’t happy that you didn’t tell me earlier.”
Micah flushed. “It’s not something I’m proud of.”
“Then why’d you do it?”
“I needed a job.” Micah bit his lip. “York was a newborn at that time.”
Spike caught Micah’s chin, turning Micah’s face so their gazes met. “You’re the bravest person I know,” Spike murmured, brushing his thumb over Micah’s lower lip. “I—I’m so sorry I caused all your scars. And the nightmares. I just—” Spike choked up, looking away. “I can’t tell you how guilty I feel for making you hurt so much.”
“Shh.” Micah squeezed Spike’s hand, trying to soothe him. “You were ten. It wasn’t your fault at all.”
“But—”
“It wasn’t something you did on purpose.”
“It was still something I did.” Spike’s gaze was shadowed, self-recriminating.
“And I want you to forgive yourself for that.” Micah kissed Spike’s palm, just holding his hand. “I’ll—I’ll look past the scars if it’ll help you feel better. I want you to be happy, okay?”
Spike smiled crookedly. “All I want is for you to understand that you’re beautiful. Even with the scars.”
Micah leaned his cheek into Spike’s hand, his heart thumping. Spike was still here. He was still accepting Micah, still holding him, and this was so much more than Micah could hope for. “I’ll try,” Micah said, kissing Spike’s palm, his pulse skipping at this simple touch. “I’ll try to see me the way you do.”
Spike’s eyes brightened, then dulled. “I’m so fucking sorry I lost you your job, Micah. But if you want me back, if you’ll let me support you for however long I can—”
A tiny laugh bubbled up through Micah’s chest. Even with his concussion, Spike was still trying to be the best alpha he could. Micah’s heart swelled for him.
“You’re so precious,” Micah whispered, cupping Spike’s hand with his own. “I’d like—If you’d have me again, I’d like to be your omega. Please.”
His breath snagged, saying those words. Micah didn’t know what he’d do if Spike rejected him now.
Instead, Spike lit up, so bright that Micah saw nothing but his joy. And sheer relief filled Micah’s chest, easing some of the weight away.
The moment the ambulance pulled to a stop, Micah stood, leaning over Spike, just cradling his face. Touching him. Making sure Spike was real, that he was alive.
Spike cupped the back of Micah’s head and pulled him down. For a second, there was only Spike’s hot breath on Micah’s lips. Then Micah closed the distance, meshing their lips together. The contact sent a hum of pleasure through Micah’s body, a sense of belonging. Spike growled, nipping at Micah’s lips, his teeth sharp points on Micah’s skin.
Spike slipped his tongue into Micah’s mouth, touching him there. Tasting him. Micah pulled him closer yet, tasting blood on Spike’s tongue. Spike was hurt. But he was fine, he was in Micah’s arms, safe.
“Fuck, I’ve missed this,” Spike whispered. “I love you so much.”
Micah’s breath stumbled; his heart squeezed tight. “I love you, too.”
For a moment, there was nothing but Spike in Micah’s world, copper eyes a blur beneath him. Spike’s wrists dragging down Micah’s arms, marking him with juniper. This felt right. Micah had one of his alphas again, and he swore to himself he’d never let Spike go. Tears welled up in his eyes.
&nb
sp; The EMT pulled the ambulance door open. With a yelp, Micah broke away from Spike, his face burning. Spike caught Micah’s hand and held him close.
“He was just keeping my heart beating.” Spike grinned at the EMT. “He’s the best omega in the world.”
The EMT clicked her tongue, smiling. Micah felt an overwhelming relief. There wasn’t anyone judging them here.
He followed Spike into the ER, standing close while a nurse seated Spike in a wheelchair.
“I want to kiss you again,” Spike murmured, wriggling his fingers. “You’re too far away.”
Micah glanced at the people in the emergency room. Then he looked back at his alpha, and thought about his regrets. He wouldn’t hold back anymore.
So he stepped forward, linking his fingers with Spike’s. Spike beamed, even with his swollen eye and the dried blood on his face. Micah leaned in close. Just savored his alpha, stroking his cheek. Spike dropped a light kiss on the corner of Micah’s lips, then along his jaw, nuzzling Micah’s ear.
“Is the baby okay?” Spike asked, concern flashing through his eyes. “I thought I saw you fall...”
Micah shook his head, stroking his belly. “I fell on my shoulder. I think our baby will be fine.”
Spike brightened, cupping Micah’s belly with his warm palm. Then he slid his palm around to Micah’s back, squeezing his ass. There was something hard in the way between them—Micah’s phone.
Micah remembered the flight. “I called Kai,” he blurted. “Earlier. When you were unconscious.”
Spike had begun to smile, except his smile fell. Worry bloomed through Micah’s chest.
“What happened?” Micah asked.
Spike looked away, his ears red. “Kai said he wasn’t coming back. He—” Spike took a deep breath, meeting Micah’s eyes. “He broke up with us, too.”
Micah’s chest tightened with dismay. “I told you to join him in Colorado, didn’t I?”
Spike’s expression turned solemn; his mouth pressed into a thin line. “He told me to get back with you. He didn’t want to come home. I couldn’t leave you here.”
Micah thought back to the calls. Both times, Kai hadn’t mentioned what he felt about Spike. Micah had heard his concern and anger and relief. But was Kai flying back to visit his alpha, or was he coming to see his brother?
He checked his phone. Found a flight, Kai had texted. Tell me his room number. But aside from that, he hadn’t said anything else.
“He says sorry,” Micah said finally.
Spike froze. Then he glanced away, and muttered, “Screw him.”
Micah stopped breathing, dreading an argument between Spike and Kai. Except the look in Spike’s eyes... that wasn’t Spike wishing ill on Kai. It was Spike hiding his curiosity, his yearning and his anguish.
So Micah wrapped his arm around Spike, and whispered, “He said he’s flying back.”
Spike’s breath stuck in his throat. “But is he—does he want me as his alpha?”
Micah winced. “I don’t know.”
And the light went out of Spike’s eyes.
Micah hurt, watching him. Over the phone, Kai had said I love you. But that had only been to Micah. If Kai didn’t want to say the same to Spike... what would Micah do? “We’ll find out soon,” Micah whispered. “And if it goes wrong... I’ll still be your omega, okay?”
Spike squeezed his hand, his shoulders slumping. “It wouldn’t be the same without him.”
No, it really wouldn’t. Micah stood with Spike, kissing his jaw. Comforting him.
Then, they waited.
39
Kai
Four hours. That was how long it took to board a plane, fly across two states, and drive all the way to Meadowfall. It had felt like an eternity.
Kai had been lucky that there was a flight almost boarding when he’d arrived at the Denver airport. He’d bought a ticket to Highton, and from there, he’d rented a car, driving an hour to Meadowfall.
As the hospital pulled into view, Kai’s palms grew sweaty.
He’d spent his time on the flight looking at the pictures on his phone. Spike on the ground. Micah’s gaze full of pain. Kai had made himself look, because he needed to remember this for life. He needed to remember what Spike and Micah had been through when he hadn’t been there. It was a price they all paid because Kai had left, and he couldn’t breathe through the guilt in his chest.
He’d come up with plans and more plans. He’d decided he’d quit the team and return to Meadowfall. He’d even looked up job openings in Meadowfall, but none of them were very good, when the furthest education he’d completed was high school.
Kai pulled into the parking lot. He found a spot and parked, then made his way through the quiet hallways, ducking past nurses and the occasional patient.
He found the ward Spike was in—Room 403. The door was closed. Standing out there, with his two most important people behind that door... he felt nervous, suddenly. Scared. Wasn’t sure if they would really accept him back, after he’d left.
His heart thumping hard and wary in his chest, Kai grasped the cool metal handle, and pushed the door open.
Inside the six-bed ward, most of the lights had been turned off. At 2AM, Kai wasn’t supposed to be here. The two beds closest to him were occupied, the patients alone and asleep in them.
But the furthest bed—its occupant was hidden behind the curtains drawn around it, a soft glow lighting the ceiling above the bed. Low murmurs drifted from behind that curtain.
He could smell them, though. Juniper and honey and gardenia. His throat went dry.
And the walk to that bed felt like the longest walk he’d ever done in his life.
Kai tread slowly, quietly, letting the door ease shut behind him. The voices quieted the moment they heard his footsteps, but he’d heard Micah’s soft, mellow tones, and Spike’s rumbling growl.
Outside the curtain, with just a couple feet between him and them, Kai stopped. He reached for the edge of the curtain, unsure what to say, aside from I’m sorry and I love you.
He swallowed past the lump in his throat, blinking hard. Someone’s chair scraped against the linoleum floor. Then there was movement, someone standing, and a thin hand grasped the edge of the curtain. It pulled back.
“Kai,” Micah said quietly, his dark eyes raking over Kai’s face. “That was... fast. We weren’t expecting you until later.”
Kai couldn’t stop staring. Micah looked a little better now—some color had returned to his cheeks, and he was still wearing that same thin shirt he’d worn in the picture he’d sent. But relief and joy lit Micah’s eyes, and Kai’s heart thumped. Micah wanted him.
“You feel better?” Kai croaked, his voice stuck in his throat.
For the past months, he’d been looking at Micah’s face on his phone, in video calls and pictures. But those pixelated images were nothing like Micah in the flesh, the warmth of his body radiating between them as he stepped forward. Kai wanted to yank him close, touch him, breathe Micah’s scent off his skin.
Micah felt like a star, and Kai, the planet revolving around him. Kai hauled him close, pressing their bodies together. Micah’s belly bumped into Kai’s hips.
Gods, his belly was so big now.
“Yeah,” Micah whispered, his lips pulling into a tremulous smile. “Better now that you’re here.”
Kai swallowed hard. “I’m sorry,” he said. He remembered Micah’s latest picture, and reached out, groaning when Micah cradled Kai’s face in his small, warm hands.
Micah pulled him in for a kiss. Kai let him. Just followed his omega wherever Micah wanted him to go, breathing in that honey and gardenia scent. Mine.
Micah’s lips were damp, his tongue flicking against the seam of Kai’s lips, sliding into his mouth—the exact opposite of how their very first kiss had been. Kai growled, kissing him back, tasting tea on his tongue.
To think he’d put this off for so long... Kai grasped Micah’s arms, stroking down his sides, briefly touching his belly.
He wanted to mark all of Micah, add his own scent to the juniper on Micah’s skin. Protect this omega. Let Micah do as he wished with Kai’s heart.
Now that Kai was back, he wasn’t sure he could leave again.
“I love you,” Kai whispered into his mouth, his heart thudding. He needed to say this. He knew Spike was here, but Micah... Micah was important, too. “I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I tried to break up with you.”
“I’m sorry, too,” Micah whispered. “I love you.”
Relief soaked into Kai’s bones, taking half the weight off his chest. There was still a place for him with his omega. There was somewhere Kai belonged.
“Forgive me?” Kai asked, his voice breaking at the sudden fear that Micah might somehow hold that against him.
Just as suddenly as the kiss began, Micah broke it, stroking Kai’s cheek with his fingertips. “There’s nothing to forgive, Kai. You did as I asked. You should be the one angry with me.”
Kai shook his head. He could never be angry with Micah.
Micah kissed his cheek, pulling away. “But more importantly than that, I think you and Spike need to talk.”
And that same uncertainty slammed back into Kai’s gut, tenfold as strong. Kai tore his gaze away from Micah’s eyes.
On the bed, Spike sat with the covers drawn up to his hips. A dark circle ringed his eye, and his lip was broken. There was a bandage on the back of his head. But Spike—he stared back, his eyes burning, his lips a thin line.
Kai swallowed hard. Stepped forward. Didn’t know how to put into words the terror he’d felt, the horrible moments he’d thought Spike was dead. He wet his lips, his throat too tight.
“You—you still hate me?” Kai managed, his voice cracking.
“Maybe,” Spike answered, his own voice strangled.
And maybe it didn’t matter if Spike still hated him, because Kai couldn’t spend another second away from his brother.
Kai swung himself onto the bed, shoes and all, and threw his leg over Spike’s lap. Curled his fingers into Spike’s hair. Brought their faces close, pressing their foreheads together.
His Two Alphas Page 33
