Page 105 of Chasing The Alpha's Son
The plane speeds up, bouncing a few times on the tarmac as we’re lifted into the air. As we ascend into the clouds, I sit back in my chair and think about everything that’s unresolved and all the questions that may or may not be answered when I get home. Jasper has never been more comfortable around me, and yet there’s still a strange distance between us. Will I ever be able to bridge the gap?
Finally, I start to feel the pull of sleep. We were up early so we could fly out before another storm passed through. I lie back and let my mind relax. Just as I drift off, the image from last night’s dinner replays in my mind. My fingers dig into the armrests of my chair and my feet curl inward.
In my mind, Jasper and Mia are standing at the head of the Rocky Pack’s dining table. They’re dressed like they’re attending the Oscars––Jasper in a tux and Mia in an emerald-green gown. The rest of the pack is staring and applauding—beaming at the wolves before them. Because they’re holding hands, smiling, radiant with the glow of a freshly formed couple. It’s obvious they’re in love––mates. And for both of our packs their coupling is a cause for celebration. They’ve united our two peoples. Everyone is happy. And Jasper isn’t mine anymore.
COMING HOME
The drive home is quiet—the gentle hum of Jasper’s sports car rolling beneath the silence that lingers between us. It’s late in the afternoon, but the clouds overhead are so thick and gray it’s hard to tell what time of day it is. They hang low and heavy, as if they’re pressing down on us, compacting us, a reminder of all the things we need to figure out and everything we’re not saying.
As the houses of Stony Point drift by, I let out a little sigh. I’m not sure why. But it’s out before I know to stop it. Jasper glances at me. I give him an encouraging smile, and he does his best in return.
Finally, we slow to a stop at the end of my parents’ driveway. The house sits quiet and still, the lights of our Christmas tree twinkling from behind the blinds. It looks the same as I left it, of course—we’ve only been gone the better part of a week—but it feels like so much longer. So much has changed, I guess I was just sort of expecting that change to be reflected in our surroundings.
A shadow moves about somewhere behind the glass, and I wonder if my mom is in there, and if she’s seen us. I shrink a little lower in my seat. For a second I think about opening up my mind and seeing if I can hear them or feel their thoughts. But I’m scared that will let the pain back in, so I focus hard on keeping myself closed off.
“Happy to be home?” Jasper asks, pulling my attention away from the windows.
“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Halfhearted doesn’t even cut it. I mean, I’m notnothappy to be home, but being here means I don’t know when I’ll see Jasper again. And I have zero idea if he’s thinking the same thing—if he even cares.
“I…” he starts then stops, twisting his hands on the steering wheel. “Is it okay if you don’t tell them?”
I shake my head a little to rid myself of the shock.
“Yeah, of course. I won’t tell anyone, not until you’re ready.”
A lump bobs up and down in Jasper’s throat as he tries to swallow. What if he’s never ready? What would that mean? For us? For me?
He lowers his head. “Thank you.”
“Well, I should…” I unbuckle my seat belt and go to open the door when Jasper’s hand lands on my knee. I freeze.
“Max, I’m sorry.”
I stare at him, wondering what he’s trying to say.
“I’m sorry this isn’t what you want. That I’m not…”
The muscles in his jaw are twisting about. I take his hand in mine, and he doesn’t pull back. Our fingers slide between each other’s.
“We’ll figure this out,” I say, nodding, trying to convince myself. “It may take time, but we’ll be fine.”
I smile at Jasper and he tries his best to reciprocate. With a squeeze, I let go and open the door.
“Max,” he says, before I can slide out, “my father is hosting a New Year’s Eve party. Aisha and everyone will be there. Will you come?”
As if there was any other answer. “Yeah, I’d love to.”
“Good. I mean…I’m glad.”
One more time I smile at Jasper and step out of the car. Then I think of something.
“Where is it?” I ask, leaning back down to see into the car. “The party?”
“The packhouse. I’ll make sure your name is on the guest list.”
“Okay.”
I grab my bag from the back seat and stand to watch as Jasper drives smoothly away.The packhouse. Our packhouse isn’t like the welcoming winter lodge in the Rocky Pack. Ours is a high-rise in the middle of Manhattan; the only wolves who really go there are the ones who have a reason to—officials, businesspeople, important wolves. I guess now I have a reason, too. A little flutter flitters in my stomach.
