The fish were dead…again.

JT scowled, tapping the glass of the fish tank, getting no response. With a heavy sigh, he gritted his teeth and set to work cleaning up the mess. It was easier dealing with the dead fish than tracking down Parrot.

Though he couldn’t avoid that task forever.

Once the fish were flushed, the empty tank resting on its side table by the kitchen entrance, JT stalked to Parrot’s room. The door was closed, and judging by the darkness seeping out of the crack at the bottom, the light was off. Knocking for entrance, JT tired of the silence and tested the door handle.

Opening the door, he stepped into the room, found the light switch and made the disappointing discovery of Parrot’s absence. Like the dead fish, it wasn’t too uncommon to find his roommate M.I.A. when needed most.

Especially these days.

JT shook his head at the state of his roommate’s bedroom.

Small mountains of clothes piled in the corner. The dirty laundry overflowing and overwhelming the hamper, resulting in the mess on the floor. At least two half-cleaned plates of dinner from Lord-knew-when, and a pizza box riddled with crunchy crusts. The bed was unmade, and there was a stale odor to the air. Crossing the room, JT opened the glass door to the balcony, his gaze soaking in the view of downtown Pittsburgh.

The condominium was right at the heart of the city, and it was stunning. Too bad things didn’t look half as good inside.

Turning, JT regarded the room. Sighing again, he moved to the door, juggling the pizza box and plates and seeing they found their proper homes. In the kitchen, JT drew his phone from the pocket of his denim jacket, messaging Parrot. It took three tries to get the text right. Short, sweet, and uncomplicated.

where r u

JT settled the phone on the kitchen counter, soaking the dishes and filing them into the dishwasher. Turning the machine on, he grabbed up his pinging phone to Parrot’s return message.

@ work

And a second later, the phone rang.

“Yo,” Parrot greeted, his perky self.

Funny how JT’s heart no longer thumped wildly against his ribs for his beta roomie. Instead, a lump of foreboding lodged in his throat, and anxiety breathed warmly on the back of his neck, lifting the fine hairs at his nape.

He wanted to be doing anything else than taking this call, treading carefully on eggshells, and waiting to say the wrong thing to set them off once more, ruin the peace that had lasted a month now.

Before he speculated when it came to this between him and Parrot, JT heard a faint, decidedly male voice.

Jealousy, hot and unbidden, burst like a balloon in his expanding chest. The nervousness of choosing his words gone, he blurted, “Who’s that?”

Parrot chuckled. “Why? Jealous?”

Pressing the phone to his ear, straining to hear the voice again, JT couldn’t leash the growl rumbling loose. “No. You said you were at work.”

“I am,” the sharpness in his tone suggesting JT back off.

But annoyed by his playfulness, and curious as to where he was, JT said, “Doesn’t sound like you are.”

“Well. I am.” Parrot paused, the beat stretching long enough to shake up JT. Not giving him a word edgewise, Parrot said, “Listen, I didn’t call you to argue. I just wanted to say it’s a good thing you texted. The truck is acting up again, and I thought you might come and take a look at it for me.”

“I’m busy cleaning your room, actually. Also, the fish are dead.”

“Shit. That sucks. I hope you gave them good rites.” There was a pause, and then Parrot wheedled, “So, about that truck…”

JT clenched his teeth, but he said, “Yeah. I’ll be out.”

Parrot gave a quick whoop. Rattling out the address, he clicked off, leaving JT to glower at his phone’s dark screen. “Great,” he muttered. So much for relaxing. It didn’t bother Parrot to ask for these favors, even though he damn well knew JT worked early shifts and crashed by the time he reached home.

Still, at least he’d find out where he was.

Because despite what he said, JT couldn’t be sure of anything anymore when it came to Parrot. They had lost a lot lately, and chiefly the ease that used to cement their friendship…their friends-with-benefits relationship. Sex was off the table now, too. Perhaps it was a good thing. JT didn’t need it complicating his confused head and heart.

Downstairs in the condo lobby, JT endured a quick conversation with the gray-haired, older doorman, hating that he couldn’t slough off the discomfort chasing him to his bike in the building’s parking garage. Though he had lived with Parrot for the last four years, JT had trouble reconciling his image with their fancy home. He felt like a fraud.

The address Parrot supplied led JT to a familiar suburban neighborhood, Raven Chapel.

As he navigated the quieter, late evening streets of Pittsburgh suburbs, JT couldn’t shake off the soft, muffled voice he’d heard on Parrot’s side. Who was Parrot with?

His answer was on the other side of the large neighborhood park, but JT was a couple blocks away from his friend, Phoenix Steele’s home. Dropping in on the former president of The Strix MC’s West Coast chapter wasn’t the plan though. He wasn’t of any use to anybody with his head muddled.

The house was one of the bigger ones on the street.

Set back from the property line and the sidewalk, it was gated and boasted a spacious, green lawn, three garage bays, a fancy wrap around porch, and several picture windows gleaming with the sunset’s flaming rays.

JT left his motorcycle on the curb, testing the closed gate and then pressing the built-in mic button on the entrance’s brick post. He waited, buzzing a second and third time before someone answered.

“Hello?” the voice stilled JT, because he’d just heard it on Parrot’s end. “Hello?” the young male called out again.

“Yeah, hey.” JT fumbled to clear his head, stuffing down the heat pooling his gut. What was it with this guy’s husky, melodic voice? Why was he going crazy for it? “Is, uh, Wren Forrester there?”

Slipping up and almost using Parrot’s ride name, JT covered himself smoothly enough. Every Strix biker was careful about tossing their name around willy-nilly. But Parrot, like most of the other bikers, JT included, had a day job and taxes to fill out with legal names. And not everyone understood that all bikers weren’t one-percenters, or outlaw riders. Some actually had families, friends and a community to care for.

There was a crackle of static, and then a charged silence.

JT frowned. Did he just hang up on him?

Pressing the mic buzzer again, he stepped from the mic when the mechanized gates unlocked. Shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, JT trekked up the freshly paved drive to the front door, passing Parrot’s dumpy old truck, his eyes taking in the shadowed front lot. The lights under the porch were bright though. JT didn’t have to ring the doorbell.

The young man who swung open the door wasn’t Parrot, obviously. But he made JT forget why he’d traveled the distance, and who he’d come to see.

Eyes widening, the dark-haired omega backed from the door, his hand falling from the door handle. He staggered out of JT’s reach, allowing him to enter, and not saying a word until JT clicked the door shut behind him.

“You,” he said, mouth staying open, shock shining from his gold-flecked hazel eyes.

JT resisted reaching out and touching the omega’s jaw to gently coax it closed. Thankfully, he had better control of his reaction. Because this was him; the same omega who had haunted JT, and flitted in and out of his head for the last three years.

His hair dyed black now, lightly bronzed complexion, and white polo shirt and khaki shorts couldn’t mask the recognizable scent wafting from him. Fruity and tangy, it enveloped JT like a warm, fuzzy blanket, lured him closer until the omega stumbled out of reach, lost his footing and nearly ended up on the marble flooring.

In his arms again, JT knew without a doubt why he’d been attracted to his voice when he’d heard him on Parrot’s phone.

Fuck.

He’d found his mate once more.

Fate could be such a bitch, because it was like the last three years separating them hadn’t occurred. JT clung to him, unwilling to let him go, and the kid gawked at him, his warm, small hands clutching his shoulders, his body pliant as soon as JT saved him from the floor.

JT groaned when he leaned down and sniffed his mate’s throat, his nose rings brushing the omega’s leaping pulse, his cock tightening and filling with blood as the younger man in his arms let loose a shuddering breath.

It would be easy to take him here: hoist him up, command him to wrap his slim legs around his middle, and fuck him senseless—give them what they both desired in that moment.

“JT,” Parrot called.

Gratitude collided with annoyance. JT jerked them upright, leveling the omega on his feet, and steadying him. He had to pry his fingers off his hips, but JT managed to keep his paws to himself. Just in case, he tucked them back into his jacket pockets, fisting them in there until he cleared this beautiful home and the black-haired, hazel-eyed temptation in front of him.

Parrot hiked a thumb over his shoulder, his long, golden brown hair out of its usual braid and brushing his shoulders. “All done with your security system, Alec. I’ll be in touch with you tomorrow to see if you’ve got the hang of using it.” Then he nodded at JT. “Let’s go.”

Not needing to be told twice, JT turned for the door, making a hasty exit, and all while a part of him still resisted in leaving Alec behind.