Eric caught Ollie’s face in his hands, and kissed him hard on the lips.
Olivier squawked, squirming out of his grasp. “Eric!”
He looked around the parking lot, his cheeks red. There wasn’t anyone around, save for a random neighbor that Eric didn’t recognize. Ollie hurried to Eric’s trunk, his head tucked down.
Gods, he was cute when he was flustered. Knowing what Olivier had lived through, the sort of torment he’d dealt with alone, Eric had a new appreciation for his omega. He stopped next to Ollie, stroking Ollie’s back. “Could you carry Jenn? I’ll do these boxes. They’re heavy.”
Olivier bit his lip, glancing uncertainly at Eric. “You trust me with her?”
“Yeah, I do.”
Eric opened the back door, unfastening Jenn’s seatbelt. Then he lifted her out of the booster seat. “See, you scoop her up like that and support her bottom. She might squirm, so hang on tight.”
Olivier winced, eyeing Jenn. “What if I drop her?”
“You won’t. Here, try it.” Eric set Jenn back into the car seat. Jenn whined, reaching for Eric.
Olivier sucked in a deep breath, grimacing when he reached in to pick her up. He held her gingerly, lifted her, and whimpered when Jenn kicked her legs.
“Almost there,” Eric said, squeezing Ollie’s waist.
Olivier leaned Jenn against himself. Eric helped arrange Ollie’s grip so it would be easier to support her weight.
“There,” Eric said when Jenn was settled into Ollie’s arms. “You’ve got it.”
Olivier looked anxiously at him, his arms wrapped stiffly around Jenn. “I—I should get her upstairs.”
“Yeah. I’ll come with you.” Eric hefted a couple boxes into his arms, then walked with Ollie to the elevator lobby. Jenn squealed at the red light of the elevator buttons, reaching for them. Olivier sucked in a deep breath, balancing her in his arms.
Watching him, Eric thought about how very different Olivier was, from the picture his mother had painted. He’s a criminal, Mom had said.
No, Ollie wasn’t a criminal. Not when he was looking nervously at Jenn, his arms stiff around her, as though she was something entirely alien.
When they arrived at the apartment, Eric unlocked the doors. He moved the boxes in, then took Jenn out of Ollie’s arms.
“That was nerve-wracking,” Olivier said weakly, leaning into Eric’s side. “I’ve never... carried a baby before.”
“You’re getting practice now,” Eric said, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Best to learn before yours gets here, right?”
Olivier glanced down at his belly, his gaze soft. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I do need the practice.”
It’s not my baby, Eric thought. But it was still Olivier’s child. “I mentioned to Mom that I was moving in with you.”
Olivier grimaced. “You did?”
“Yeah. She said a few things.”
“Oh.” Olivier shuffled away, looking at everywhere but Eric. He knew what Eric had heard. He’s a prostitute, Mom’s voice whispered.
“You were seeing someone over Christmas?” Eric asked casually.
Olivier met his eyes for a second. “What else did she tell you?”
“She said you did it for money.”
Olivier blew out a breath. “Yes, I did.” He shrugged. “It wasn’t worth it.”
Eric perked up. “Yeah? Why not?”
“Zan’s terrible in bed. I thought—” Olivier sighed “—I was just lonely. He offered, so I accepted. I could’ve just saved myself the trouble.”
Thrice yesterday, Ollie had rubbed up against Eric, musk rolling off his skin. So Olivier had standards, and it made pride swell through Eric’s chest. “Who’s Zan?”
Olivier touched the mark on his neck; he regretted that alpha, didn’t he? Eric’s instincts growled. “Someone I was seeing for a while. He—he wasn’t great.”
“Was he the one who hurt you? With his knot.”
Olivier bit his lip. “Yeah.”
Eric narrowed his eyes, anger burning in his gut. “You aren’t keeping in touch with him, are you?”
“No.”
“Good.” Eric rocked Jenn in his arms, noting the way her eyelids were starting to droop. “Was he... did you see him again in January?”
Olivier’s forehead wrinkled. “What?”
“The baby,” Eric made himself say. The words were bitter on his tongue. “It’s Zan’s, isn’t it?”
Olivier froze. Eric couldn’t read him then, and it made his senses uneasy. “Yeah,” Olivier said eventually, looking away. “It’s Zan’s.”
It was? Eric growled, the injustice of it gnawing at him. After all Ollie had done to wash away Eric’s seed—the enema, the morning-after pill—he was keeping the baby of some alpha who had hurt him? The bastard wasn’t even here! Eric narrowed his eyes. “And you want his baby?”
Olivier shrugged, his ears turning pink. “It doesn’t matter who the baby’s father is. Stop talking about it.”
“I can’t, damn it!” Eric gritted his teeth. “I can’t believe you aren’t aborting some jerk’s child! And you did the morning-after pill after we—”
“The dad’s not a jerk!” Olivier blurted. Then he groaned, covering his face. “Can we just... talk about something else? Please?”
“I can’t,” Eric said. “You want to raise some bastard’s child?”
Olivier winced. “Yes, okay? I’m the slut your mother told you I am.”
Eric paused, his heart squeezing. Something wasn’t right about this. Ollie wasn’t a slut. He loved Eric. But the baby in his belly... It shouldn’t matter who had fathered it. Hell, Eric had told himself that multiple times.
And yet maybe it still mattered, anyway.
“You’re not a slut,” Eric said, pulling Ollie close to himself, so he could breathe the carnation off Ollie’s skin.
Olivier shrugged, looking dubious. “What else did your mom tell you about me?”
Eric hesitated. “She said some things. Like you were jerking off to me when we were kids.”
Olivier stared. Then his eyes widened and he turned away, covering his face. “Oh, gods. S-she told you that?”
That had been the truth? Eric held his breath. “You were attracted to me even that long ago?”
Olivier’s ears turned red. He hurried away, dragging Eric’s boxes of things further into the apartment. Eric strode after him, touching Olivier on the shoulder. “Ollie.”
“She caught me once,” Olivier mumbled, unable to meet Eric’s eyes. “That was the first time she called me... that word. But—but it’s not like I did anything with you. I just—You were asleep next to me when I did it, but I didn’t touch you, Eric. I swear I didn’t. I just woke up hard and I was thinking, and I-I...”
“She called you a slut then?” Eric asked, unease hissing in his gut.
Olivier nodded jerkily, fumbling with the cardboard boxes.
“How old were you?”
“I don’t know, sixteen? I’d presented for a while, and I... I was horny all the time. She said I’d go to jail if I did it again.”
Eric stared at the back of Olivier’s head, the dark gleam of his hair. “You were sixteen fucking years old when she called you a slut.”
Olivier jerked his shoulders. “I stopped rooming with you after that. I never told you the reason, but that was why.”
Eric had difficulty superimposing the two images—Mom treating him with love, and the cruelty she’d shown to Olivier. How could a person act that way?
“You never told me.”
Olivier bowed his head. “She said if I told you, I’d be whipped to hell and back.”
Eric’s stomach turned. He knelt next to Olivier, slipping his fingers against Ollie’s sweaty palm. Olivier pulled his hand away, tucking it against himself. As though he thought he was too terrible to be touched.
Eric’s heart ached for him. How could I not have known? Have you been keeping this secret for all these years? How many more se
crets was Ollie hiding from him? “I’m not gonna judge you, okay?” Eric said quietly. “You don’t have to worry about that.”
“But I—” Olivier bit his lip. “I was a sick pervert, Eric.”
Eric rolled his eyes. “It’s not like I didn’t think about fucking you when I was sixteen.”
“You were fourteen back then!”
“And I was already ogling you.” Eric wrapped his arm around Ollie’s hunched back. “You never saw how I practiced kissing the omegas on magazines, Ollie.”
Olivier froze, turning to glance at him in disbelief. “That’s... not the same.”
Eric snorted. “I was preparing to kiss you. I just wanted to make sure it was perfect when I did.”
“Oh.” Olivier breathed out, his cheeks red. “I didn’t know that.”
“Now you do.” Eric lifted Olivier’s hand to his lips, kissing his knuckles. “You have me.”
“Even with... with the baby?” Ollie looked down at his abdomen, cradling it.
“Even then.”
Olivier picked at the edge of the cardboard box, his gaze downcast. “Thank you.”
He seemed so small, so vulnerable, that it didn’t make sense for Eric’s mom to treat him the way she had.
“Why’d she do that to you?” Eric asked, adjusting Jenn in his arm.
Olivier gave a crooked smile. “She said I looked like Dad’s ex. My biological mom. My mom died a long time ago, so...”
Eric froze. And Jenn weighed a thousand pounds in his arms, suddenly. “Shit, Ollie.”
Olivier looked confused. “What?”
“I just—” Eric swallowed. “Jenn.”
“Oh.” Olivier looked away. “Yeah, I’m aware.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Eric glanced at his sleeping daughter, realizing just how much he’d taken for granted, and how much he’d unwittingly hurt his omega.
Olivier’s stepmother had abused him because he looked different. And there Eric had brought Jenn to him, he’d moved into Ollie’s apartment with his daughter, not knowing the memories he would trigger for his omega. What kind of bastard was he?
Eric leaned away, sick with horror.
Olivier shrugged. “I told you, I’d do anything for you. If you wanted to move in with Jenn, then... who am I to say no?”
“Gods, Ollie.”
For a moment, Eric thought about taking Jenn and leaving, so the sight of Jenn wouldn’t be a slap in Olivier’s face.
Except that would be going back on his word, wouldn’t it? He’d promised to protect Olivier. He couldn’t do that from afar.
Eric shuffled closer, tipping Ollie’s face toward himself.
He remembered Olivier in the parking lot, learning to carry Jenn. Olivier holding onto Jenn in the elevator, terrified of dropping her. Ollie didn’t have a single hurtful bone in his body, and knowing the way he’d taken whatever hurts Eric had dealt him...
Something knotted tight in Eric’s chest. Something that felt like need, and regret, and hunger, all rolled into one.
It wasn’t love. Couldn’t be. Eric had felt a flutter a couple weeks ago, just outside Olivier’s Strings. But this, this strange, intense feeling that welled up in his chest... He didn’t know what it was. Just knew that it hummed in his bones, and he wanted this omega closer.
“I think I like you,” Eric whispered, pressing his nose to Olivier’s cheek. “More than I did.”
Olivier breathed in shakily, his lashes fluttering against Eric’s forehead. “Oh.”
“I’m sorry about Jenn,” Eric said. “I should’ve asked. I should’ve known you were self-sacrificing, you bastard—”
“You don’t have to worry about me,” Olivier protested.
“If I’m not gonna worry, then who is?” Eric looked fiercely at him. “Who else will protect you, if not me?”
Olivier bit his lip, looking away. “I don’t know.”
“Seems to me like you need someone,” Eric growled, touching Ollie’s bond mark with his fingertips. “It’s gonna be me.”
“You already promised me protection,” Olivier mumbled.
“Then I’m promising even more.”
Olivier flushed a deep red. He loved Eric; Eric’s heart thumped with that knowledge. He wanted to say I love you in return. But that was a commitment, and Eric still had his doubts. He’d failed Alice. He hadn’t stopped his mom from tormenting Olivier.
Yet, he wanted Ollie closer. That much, Eric knew.
So Eric tilted his head, catching Olivier’s lips lightly with his own. Olivier gasped. “Eric—”
“I like you,” Eric whispered, nipping on Olivier’s lower lip. “Want you to be mine.”
Ollie whimpered, his body pliant.
Gods, if there was someone who needed protecting... It was Ollie. Eric dragged his wrist down Ollie’s jaw, just kissing him.
Olivier’s breath puffed on his lips. “Does she—does your mom know? About us.”
Eric shook his head. “At this point... I’m not sure she even deserves to know.”
He wanted to find something in her that was forgivable. Except seeing the way she’d spoken about Ollie—He doesn’t belong at all in this family—Olivier didn’t need any more of that crap.
Olivier broke the kiss. “I don’t want to cost you the rest of the family, Eric. First Cole, and now your mom—”
“You’re more important,” Eric whispered, stroking Olivier’s hair. “I want you to remember that.”
Olivier squirmed, looking uneasy. “I think you’ll regret this.”
“I won’t.” Something in Eric’s chest told him that.
He stroked Ollie’s hair, wondering if this was the start of something. If he and Olivier could live together, entwining their lives, their children growing up happy.
Olivier sighed, resting his head on Eric’s shoulder. “If you say so.”
They stayed together like that for some time, just enjoying the other’s company, listening to the sounds of each other breathing. Eric wondered what Alice would say, if she saw this.
If he’s loved you for that long, it’s about time you got together with him, he imagined her saying. Life waits for no one, Eric.
Except those were just his biased thoughts. What if he was wrong? What if Alice would rather Eric stay widowed the rest of his life? They hadn’t time to discuss that before the accident. Eric had assumed that his marriage would last for years to come.
“Is this really okay?” Olivier asked, his voice muffled against Eric’s shoulder. “I mean... me and you.”
Eric shrugged lightly. “I don’t know. I’ve told you that I’ve fucked up before.”
“With—With Alice?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.”
Eric sighed. At some point, Olivier would have to know, or the question would always stay on his mind. “Car crash. I was driving.”
Ollie’s hand tightened around his arm.
“It was late. We’d gone out of town to visit wine country, and we’d been stuck in traffic on the way home. So I—I made the decision to take a side road. One of those middle-of-nowhere trails that connect highways, you know?”
Olivier watched him, horrified.
“We were driving in pitch-darkness, save for headlights. Then a truck came along and the—the driver was having problems steering. I was gonna stay on the road shoulder to avoid it, but he was swerving onto the shoulders, too. So I did a three-point turn and—and there wasn’t time to get out of there. Jenn was in the backseat behind me. It was either I save her, or Alice.”
Olivier made a small, terrified sound in his throat.
Eric breathed out. He could still hear the blaring horn, the crunch of metal, and the blood—Gods, the blood.
“She died instantly,” Eric croaked, his chest so tight he thought it might collapse. “And somehow, Jenn and I—we had minimal injuries. I don’t know how it happened. It—it was a mess. Should’ve been me who died.”
/> “No,” Olivier whispered, his eyes filling with tears. “I’m glad you’re alive, Eric. Don’t say that.”
Eric met his gaze, his heart heavy. “I fucked up, Ollie. Shouldn’t have taken that road. Should’ve just stayed in traffic.”
“You wouldn’t have known!” Olivier wrapped his thin arms around Eric and Jenn, pulling them close. “It’s not your fault. You did the best you could.”
Eric shrugged. Yeah, there was that. Sometimes, he thought maybe he could explain things that way. But he was also responsible for his family. What if he fucked up, and lost Ollie this time?
“You’re brave,” Olivier whispered, cupping Eric’s face. “And you’re strong, and you’re fair and—and kind and perfect. Jenn and I need you here, okay?”
Looking into Olivier’s worried eyes, something in Eric’s heart unclenched. Maybe he could believe Ollie. Maybe this was a second chance to make things right.
“Yeah, I’ll think about it,” Eric said, hugging Ollie. “Didn’t mean to bog you down with all that depressing shit. Sorry.”
“I’m glad I know now,” Olivier murmured, running his hand down Eric’s back. “I’m just—so grateful that you’re here, Eric.”
His voice cracked. Olivier leaned into Eric’s chest, shaking against him.
So Eric kissed Ollie’s forehead, holding both his daughter and his omega close. Maybe Ollie had a point. Maybe there was a reason for him being here, carrying on with life.
He smoothed Ollie’s hair away from his face, kissing Olivier on the lips.
“I’m glad I found you again,” Olivier whispered tearfully.
And that strange feeling in Eric’s chest bloomed further. He didn’t know what it was, only that it was so strong he was afraid to face it. “I’m glad I found you, too.”
17
Olivier
“You let him move in with you,” Levi said, looking aghast at Olivier. “Really?”
Olivier sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I did.”
Levi glanced around the shop, whispering, “You smell like him, you know.”
“I’m glad I have you to tell me,” Olivier muttered, his cheeks heating.
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