Page 18 of Fresh Ice
CHAPTER FOUR
Alonso tried to think of an excuse not to go straight home, but the guys rolled their eyes at his suggestion to go out for supper.
Killer brushed him off. “I’m going home to my Omega, kid.”
The phrasing made Alonso wince, but there was nothing he could say to that.
Alonso should have felt lucky that Levy didn’t bring anything up in the car, but the tension between them was so bad he almost began the conversation himself.
That click of their front door shutting rang out like a tolling bell.
Alonso’s jaw hurt from clenching his teeth for hours. He didn’t know how his body hadn’t collapsed from how his heart had been racing since he’d woken up. He’d barely been able to eat, nausea a slimy knot in his throat.
Alonso turned to face Levy, keeping his arms by his sides instead of wrapping them around his stomach like he wanted.
Whatever happened, he had to keep himself together until he was alone.
Levy regarded him back, eyes dark and face almost lost in shadow. Alonso had to repress a shudder at how much power this one person suddenly had over him.
Levy had seemed like a genuinely good person. They’d become friends, Alonso had thought, but he knew what Levy would say now—that Alonso was a liar. That Levy never knew who he really was.
That Alonso owed him something, now.
Alonso took a deep breath, almost managing to make his voice steady. “What do you want?”
Levy blinked, clearly confused. “What do you mean, what do I want?”
There was a pressure in Alonso’s chest, in his throat, his eyes. “What do you want for not telling anybody. Please.” The last word wobbled out, and Alonso could feel shame reddening his cheeks.
God, he was pathetic. Begging Levy to let him stay on the team. Willing to…to…
Levy took a step forward, and Alonso forced himself not to react. “What are you talking about? Olive, I’m not going totellanybody. Why would I? It’s nobody’s business what your dynamic is.”
Alonso stood very still as he tried to process those words. “What do you want in return?” he insisted.
Levy threw his hands in the air, letting out a frustrated growl. “Nothing. What would I even want? Are you seriously suggesting I would take advantage of you like that?” His voice turned quiet and hurt at the end, and it was the thing that finally made Alonso start to wonder if he was serious.
“I don’t…” This was one possibility Alonso hadn’t prepared for.
“Can we, like, turn on some lights and sit down?” Levy suggested.
“Yeah. Okay.”
Alonso’s thoughts were traffic-jamming in his head, a new one appearing only to crash into the previous one.
He’d been scared of this situation foryears. He’d kept the secret of his designation away from everybody, deep where shame soaked into it, mutating it into something deformed
And yet here Levy was, suggesting not a single thing had changed even though heknew.
Alonso simply couldn’t trust that.
Levy fidgeted as they sat on opposite sides of the couch. “Who else knows?”
“Nobody. Well, I mean, my parents know.” It was better if Alonso just gave Levy what he wanted until the other shoe dropped.
“No, but I mean, the team medics and stuff?” Levy pressed.
“No.”
