Page 76 of Alpha Theo

I was always afraid that I’d wind up hurting her. It never occurred to me that I’d also get hurt in the process.Fuck, she’s right about that, too- all I do is hurt everyone around me, including myself. And now I’m sitting here feeling fucking sorry for myself again.

Like it or not, things have changed since Brooke walked into my life. For once, I don’t want to just run away from my problems, get a random girl underneath me to help me forget. I don’t want to be the guy that Brooke thinks I am. I know a simple apology won’t fix things between us, but maybe if I show her I can be better, different, she’ll find some way to forgive me. Maybe if I start believing in myself, she’ll start believing in me again, too.

So I fucking pull myself together. Take a shower, get dressed. And I get on my bike and head for the last place anyone would ever expect me to.

~

When I arrive at the packhouse in Summervale, my dad’s as surprised to see me as I am to be there. I haven’t been back since I threw a plate at the wall after he told me that Cory was taking Joe’s place as beta, which wasn’t exactly my finest moment. The first step was getting here. The next will be harder.

“Hey Dad,” I greet, shuffling uncomfortably in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Theo.” He looks down into a big bowl on the counter, stirring the contents with a wooden spoon. “What are you doing here?”

Not exactly the warm welcome I was hoping for, but it’s the one I expected.

“What, I can’t just come home for a visit?” I ask, my tone laced with sarcasm.

“Sure you can,” Dad mumbles, still stirring. His eyes flicker up to meet mine. “But you don’t.”

He’s got me there. I usually avoid this place like the plague.

“I, uh…” I begin, raking a hand through my hair and stepping into the kitchen. I move closer to him, peer over at what he’s mixing. When I realize it’s a big bowl of his pasta salad, I practically start salivating. Dad has always been really into cooking and his pasta salad is one of his signature dishes. I haven’t had it in years.

I clear my throat, lean back against the counter. I thought about what to say to my father all the way here, but now that I’m standing in front of him, I’m coming up blank.

“Are you staying for dinner?” Dad asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

I eye the pasta salad, then glance back up at him. “Yeah,” I breathe. “I was thinking of staying for the whole weekend, actually.”

Dad looks down at the pasta and continues stirring. “Staying for the run?”

“Yeah.”

He pulls the wooden spoon out of the bowl, tapping it on the side and depositing it in the sink. Only then does he look over at me again, giving me a little nod. “Good.”

He grabs some cling wrap out of a drawer, putting it over the bowl before sticking it in the fridge. Then he brushes his hands together, turning back to face me.

“Look, dad,” I grumble, scratching the back of my head. “I just wanted to say… I’m sorry for being a dick last time I was here, okay? It was… well, it was immature and embarrassing. I’ve thought about it a lot since then, and I know I was in the wrong.”

I swallow hard, wringing my hands in front of me. This is way fucking harder than I thought it’d be. I take a deep breath, continuing. “I want to stand by you at the run, show my support for Cory as beta when you announce it.”

Dad just studies me for a moment, nodding slowly. Then he folds his arm across his chest, heaving a sigh. “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.” He steps toward me, claps me on my shoulder. “It’ll be good to have you here. Good for the pack to see you’re on board.”

I nod, drawing another deep breath. “Yeah, I was thinking I’d start coming around more, start getting more involved with the pack. It’ll help with the transition when I become Alpha someday.”

Dad snorts. “One step at a time, son.”

My temper flares. Here I am, swallowing my pride and apologizing, and my asshole father still won’t entertain the idea of me replacing him as Alpha. What the hell do I have to do to get him to take me seriously?!

I press my lips together in a tight line, holding myself back from making a snide comment in response.

“Yeah,” I grind out. “Gotta start somewhere.”

The corner of my dad’s mouth tips up. “That’s right,” he says, clapping me on the shoulder again. He turns back around, opening up the fridge and peering inside. “Wanna help me get dinner together?”

No. That’s the last fucking thing I want to do right now. I’m a shitty cook- I can barely use a damn microwave.

“Sure.” I shove my hands in my pockets, walking over to meet him at the fridge. He reaches inside, pulling out a package of chicken and handing it to me.

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