Chapter Two
Philip
I browsed the grocery store aisle, hoping something would spark my interest and I could finally decide what I was going to make for dinner. I could eat out again, grab a burger from the diner, or I could go down to the Sub Joint and get something from there. Or I could continue to stare at the full shelves of ingredients and wait for inspiration to strike.
Nothing sounded good.
What did I want?
Companionship.
I groaned inwardly. Now was not the time to lament on my lack of a relationship. Young Omegas threw themselves at me on a regular basis, but it wasn't the same. No one wanted forever or at least no one seemed to want forever with me. I'd seen plenty of Omegas that I’d dated in the past meet their forever Alpha. It was never me. Which, I supposed was just as well, considering I couldn't think of any Omega that I wanted to be with forever.
I guess I just hadn't met him yet.
But you have met him.
I squashed that thought. I wasn't going down that painful road.
I scanned the Italian food section, thinking perhaps a homemade pizza would be good. But then again, if I was going to have pizza I might as well order it and have it made right. Or I could make a couple of extras and take them down to the station tomorrow. It was my day off, but I didn't have anything better to do. It would be nice to make the guys dinner. I didn't have anyone else to cook for. I tossed a few pre-made crusts and ingredients for the sauce into my cart and wheeled it around the corner. I moved on auto-pilot, not paying any attention to what I was doing, until I ran straight into the cart coming around the other way.
“Oh, shit. I'm sorry—”
“Excuse me—”
I looked up and met the most beautiful green eyes I'd ever seen. I'd seen them before. They haunted my dreams.
“Ollie,” I said. He looked the same. Only his features were more filled out. He wasn't the eighteen-year-old I had last seen five and a half years ago. He was a grown man now. The strong set of his jaw was the same, but instead of the smooth skin of youth, it was peppered with a five o’clock shadow that I’d never seen on him before.
“Philip.” He looked around nervously as if expecting other shoppers to be watching us.
“How are you?” I said. “Are you back in town? I mean, obviously you’re in town. What are you doing here?”
He shifted his weight and ran a hand through his chestnut-brown hair. “I'm staying at my grandmother's house. My house, I mean. She—she passed away a few weeks ago.”
I nodded. “I heard. I'm sorry.”
“Thank you,” he said. “It's been hard, but she lived a full life.”
I chuckled at that. “She did. She was a great person.” I lifted a hand and rubbed the back of my neck. This could not get any more awkward. “Listen, man, it was really good to see you. You look great.”
“Thanks.” Ollie shifted awkwardly, his gaze still darting around. “You do, too.”
“We should catch up some time, you know? Grab lunch or coffee.” I knew we never would. Ollie had made his decisions to leave without telling me why or where he was going. Instead, he had chosen to send a message through my father telling me that he didn't want to be contacted. I had respected those wishes, despite the immense pain it had caused me. A few times I’d called him, he’d never answered. I still never deleted his number. On late, lonely nights I’d pull up his contact and my thumb would hover over the send button, ready to make the call, get some answers.
“Yeah,” he said. “We should do that.”
“Well,” I said. “I better get rolling. I've got a couple of pizzas to make.” I pasted on a half-grin.
“That sounds fun.”
I backed up my cart and wheeled it around him. “Good seeing you, man.”
“Yeah,” he said over his shoulder. “You, too.”
Was that regret I heard in his voice or perhaps longing? Or just wishful thinking on my part? Who knew. He'd made his decision and I had to respect that. Never mind the fact that he’d shattered my heart into a thousand pieces and I had yet to find them all.
Before turning into the nearest checkout lane, I made a quick trip to the liquor aisle. Whiskey went with pizza, didn't it? Perhaps bourbon? Whatever. I'd be drinking the stuff so fast I wouldn't be able to taste it anyway.
***
I lifted my hand to knock on the door and fell forward. The knock became more of a pound, but it did the trick. What time was it anyway? When did I get home from the store and crack open the whiskey? I had no idea. I just knew the bottle was gone, or had I dropped it? Did I finish it? I couldn’t remember that either.
All that ran through was my mind was that Ollie was in town, and I wanted answers.
What was it about me that he left? Was I not a good enough Alpha?
The windows of the old house were dark, which meant he was probably sleeping. It couldn’t be too terribly late though. I looked around outside. The moon glowed bright enough that I could see without much trouble. It was a little blurry though.
After a few moments, when no one came to the door, I knocked again. Then I saw a soft glow of light through the window and the door flew open. My Omega stood there wearing nothing but a pair of skin tight boxer briefs. He looked like absolute perfection. I'd only been with Ollie the one time, but I'd never forget his delicious body.
“What in the hell are you doing, Philip?” Ollie hissed.
I winced. “I juss—” That came out with too much of a slur, so I cleared my throat and stood up a little straighter. “I just wanted a couple answers.”
He looked back into the house like he was afraid someone might come out, and then he stood in the door frame with the door mostly closed. “You can't be here,” he said. “You have to leave. How did you get here? You didn't drive, did you?”
“No,” I said. “I'm not stupid enough to drive drunk.” I hiccupped. “I brought the ATV.”
Ollie rolled his eyes. “That’s still operating a motorized vehicle while under the influence.”
“Yeah, but I wassn’t on a road. I used the trail between your house an’ mine. You ‘member that trail?”
He groaned. “Yes, I remember the trail. I'm surprised it’s still there.”
I shrugged. “I might have used it a few times in the past couple of years.”
“You can't be here,” he said again. “If you want to talk, that's fine. But not right now. It's two in the morning.”
“That's not even that late,” I said. “It’s kind of early, really, when you think about it.”
“Oh, for God's sake,” Ollie said.
“Daddy,” a small voice from inside the house cried out.
It was enough to snap me out of my stupor. “The fuck?” I said. “Ollie, are you married?” I didn't even want to say the words, but they burst out of me.
“I can’t deal with this right now,” he said, and he turned around.
Before the door closed in my face, I caught a glimpse of a little boy who couldn't be much older than five, maybe six. I didn't know children's ages. He had blond hair and piercing blue eyes. I'd know those eyes anywhere. Those were my eyes.
That's stupid, drunk, crazy, wishful thinking, Philip. Get over yourself. You're not the only blond-haired, blue-eyed Alpha in the world.
But five would be the right age.
No. Ollie wouldn’t do that to me. We talked a lot that summer about having kids. If he was going to have a child, he would have told me. He wouldn't have just vanished in the middle of my vacation and given my dad some lame excuse about not wanting to tie himself down.
No, that wasn't my son in there.
I thought back to earlier today, when I had seen Ollie at the store. He hadn't been wearing a wedding ring. The items in his cart had indicated that he was only buying meals for a single person. They weren't unlike what I would buy for myself as far as quantity went. Except, he’d had kid’s cereal, applesauce cups, and animal crackers.
My head spun, and I had to sit down.
I staggered over to the porch swing. Ollie and I had sat there together a few times while we’d been dating, talking about anything and everything. We’d spent a lot of time getting to know one another during those few months.
I stared off into the distance. I loved being out in the country. Someday I wanted to live out in the country like this. I was a little envious of Ollie for having this house. It was the perfect place to raise a little family.
Is that what he was doing? Raising his little family here? My family?
No.
Ollie would never do that to me.
My head swam with possibilities, questions, concerns and I couldn't keep it all straight. The whiskey or bourbon or whatever I’d bought and drank too much of was catching up to me. I tipped my head back and closed my eyes, hoping that the spinning would stop.
Ollie would come back outside and then I'd ask him. He would tell me the truth now. He didn't have a choice. I had to know. Was that my son?