Page 199 of Broken Dreams

“It was too damn flashy,” he says. “It made me feel like I was trying to prove something, especially every morning in the quiet little neighborhood where the transitional living apartments are going up. I don’t get as many odd looks anymore.”

“I am sure you get looks for other reasons,” Linus purrs, smirking as he follows me out of the truck.

“You are a flirt,” Christian laughs, shutting the door behind Linus and locking it. “Old alphas teasing me for my suits don’t count, Linus.”

“Maybe not, but I’m sure you would get hit on,” he says. “There’s nothing wrong with knowing how gorgeous your alpha is.”

“And being able to say ‘hands off he’s mine,’” I tease.

“Is that a fact?” Christian asks. I can tell he’s amused as we walk across the lot to the elevator.

I noticed all the stares while he danced with us, so I think it goes both ways. People are jealous as fuck.

“Mmhmm,” I say, letting Christian check the inside of the elevator before we step inside. “It may not be completely official, but I think it’s safe to say that Linus and I are in agreement that you’re ours.”

“Good,” he says with a smirk, hitting the button for his floor as the door closes. “As long as we’re all in agreement.”

I need to talk to Duncan and Callum about Christian. I think he’s growing on them, but Christian still has this apartment. Would they want him to live with us?

He said himself that he hadn’t been invited yet. I really want to change that.

I have a very good poker face, my features set neutrally as I walk into his apartment. I have a lot of questions, and the idea of him shuttling back and forth doesn’t make sense to me.

Linus glances around the apartment the same way I am, seeing clean lines, generic furniture, and nothing really looks like it belongs to Christian.

“Everything you see came with the apartment,” our alpha explains. “My coffee machine, weapons, and my clothes are the only exception. I’m a whore for good coffee. I need it since I usually only sleep a few hours a night.”

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” I ask him. He slept with his head on my stomach between Linus and I last night when my eyes drifted closed. Did he wake up at some point?

“I sleep better now,” he says. “Patrolling helped give me something to do other than drink.”

Christian winces as if he didn’t mean to say that, striding further into the apartment as we follow him. The living room overlooks the city, while there’s one bedroom off of it.

“Was that an issue?” Linus asks worriedly.

“The Irishmen here drink very strong whiskey,” Christian sighs. “I would try not to drink very much because I’m not used to it. Unfortunately, they tend to notice, and it took me some time to get used to it. They don’t seem to trust a man who won’t drink with them. But, I wasn’t getting drunk every night. I would lay awake, thinking about you both.”

It’s hard to breathe as I watch him pull out a suitcase and open it on the bed to pack. He’s so achingly beautiful, and he’s been trying to deserve to be loved by us. Everything he says very clearly tells me that’s what this is about.

“Being busy is what I needed. I’d catch a few hours in between everything, and then be at the build site, ready to start again. I need to figure out who to donate these suits to because I don’t think they’ll ever fit me again,” he says.

Coming closer, I can see clearly the delineation between things that do and don’t fit.

“I can see what kind of charity organizations may want it,” I offer. “You get your suits custom made, and they’re really nice.”

“That would be great,” he says gratefully. “Clothes should be worn, otherwise it just gathers dust.”

He’s done packing quickly, his suits, loungewear, jeans, shirts, and all of the rest zipped safely inside of the suitcase. Hopefully he won’t be living out of it for long. I’m on a mission.Tonight changed a lot for me, allowing me to see Christian’s motivation.

Who changes their entire life if they’re not serious? No one.

He also packs his gun safe, picking it up so Linus can wheel out the suitcase.

“Let’s get you two home,” he murmurs. “I’m sure your feet are starting to ache,mi amor.”

They aren’t, not yet, but I nod as we leave his apartment and get back into the truck once we’re in the garage. The gun safe and the suitcase go into the covered bed, and Christian makes certain it won’t roll around.

I fight back a yawn on the way home, but Linus pulls me against him with a blanket.

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