Page 47 of Chasing The Alpha's Son
“Room for one more?”
Mia drops her robe to reveal an emerald-green bikini and the most rocking bod I’ve ever seen. It’s well below freezing out here, but she is hot!
I glance at Jasper as she steps into the tub and find him gulping. Did he notice too?
WHAT’S THIS?
I can’t seem to get the image of Jasper’s face as Mia stepped into the hot tub out of my head. Even as we walk through the ridiculously picturesque streets of Mistlethorpe. Seriously, this place could have been packaged up in the Swedish countryside and shipped over intact. The streets are cobblestones, the buildings are golden pine and chocolate-brown logs, with delicate woodwork features, painted gables and windowsills. Multicolored string lights are dangling between streetlights that would look at home in a fairy tale. The sky might be overcast and the air chilly, but the shop windows are glowing.
Roasting chestnuts, popcorn, and cinnamon scents floats from street vendors and cafés. People wearing wooly hats and mittens are lingering in the town square beneath a Christmas tree, not as big as the one at Rockefeller but with more natural charm. I wouldn’t be surprised if Olaf showed up asking for warm hugs.
On either side of the street these market huts that look like human-size cuckoo clocks are lined up. We pass a doughnut stall, a mitten stall, a vendor selling hand-painted ornaments, and another selling whittled wooden animals.
Yet despite all of this festive scenery, it’s the lump in Jasper’s throat, the panic in his eyes that I keep picturing. His eyes that couldn’t seem to tear themselves away from Mia’s smoking hourglass figure.
I know I’m not into girls, at least not inthatway, even if I don’t seem to be able to say the word for what I am. But I’ve never considered how it is for Jasper. Could he be into girls too? After we nearly kissed in the hot tub—that is what happened, right?—I know he’s at least somewhat into me. But does that mean he’s into other guys, too, or just me because I’m his mate? I kind of assumed he had a thing for Clayton, but maybe he was telling the truth about their friendship being just another of his pack-related duties. Then again maybe not. And what if he’s into both?! That would be cool. Except what if I’m in competition with Clayton and Mia? And I’m the only option that doesn’t bolster the pack? Where does that leave me?
These are the thoughts running through my mind as Katie, Mason, and I wander through the festive hubbub. Luckily these two have been too busy getting to know each other to notice my inner panic.
“So you’ve got two mates?” Mason asks Katie. “And you’re into them in the exact same way?”
Katie takes a bite of her candy apple and a minute to consider the question.
“Well, no, not in the exact same way,” she says. “It’s different for each of them. Todd is sweet and spontaneous—he makes me feel excited and adventurous. Simon is calmer and thoughtful—he makes me feel at ease. So I like different things about them, but equally. Does that make sense?”
“For sure,” Mason says, nodding and stepping over a frozen puddle. “I never really got how we’re supposed to get everything from one person. Like, isn’t that a lot to expect?”
He glances at me.
“And, actually, that’s kind of the beauty of it,” Katie continues, sounding more excited. “Why should we have to choose just one and miss out on so much? Why not have two?!”
“I totally get it,” Mason says. “So you’re polyam?”
“Polyam?” Katie asks. “What’s that?”
Mason screws up his mouth and laughs. “Wow, you Elite wolves are kind of sheltered. I thought you’d be all up with the human terms, being from the big city and all.”
“Sorry,” I say, feigning incredulity. “Guess we were just busy not being stuck on a mountain; we didn’t have time to brush up on our human vocabulary.”
“Okay,” he replies, nudging me playfully.
We reach the town square and Mason gestures to an empty bench next to a bush that’s been carved into the shape of a reindeer.
“Polyamis short forpolyamorous,” he continues. “It’s like someone who dates more than one person at a time—at least that’s what I’ve read.”
“Like cheating?” Katie asks.
“No, that’s the point: if you’re polyam it means you’re honest with your partners.”
“Oh.” Katie sits back, her eyes wide, focused on the star at the top of the Christmas tree. “That does sound like me.”
Mason and I sit for a moment and watch as Katie takes in this new term, this new identity, waiting to see whether it fits or if she’ll reject it.
After a long, quiet pause, Katie closes her mouth and, slowly, a smile creeps into her expression.
“I like it,” she says. “And what’s even better, now I know what it’s called I can explain it to Todd and Simon. Maybe if they understand better they’ll know this is what I want long-term…and act less like territorial wolves.”
“I’m glad I could help,” Mason says.
