Page 68 of Begrudgingly Yours
“What? I’m so tired of people being unprofessional. You’re obviously a muscle-y guy, I doubt that’s the first twelve ounce steak that’s been ordered here before.”
He huffs out a laugh but then gives me an earnest look. “I just like how you stick up for the people you care about.”
I try to scoff but it gets lost in my throat. I decide to change the subject quickly. “So, did you always want to go to Bensen? I’m sure every guy who grows up around here picks it as their top school.
He shakes his head. “I’m actually from Maryland. Bensen has one of the best hockey programs, so it was my top choice.”
“Oh. I feel like I should have known that,” I say, my brows scrunching in. “I guess it makes sense we don’t know each other very well. We haven’t spent a lot of time alone, have we?”
Everett’s face shines with a genuine smile. “No, not really. But to be honest, our”—he pauses to think of the word—“entanglementdidn’t happen very platonically, so I don’t hold that against us.”
A snort nearly escapes me. “Well, tell me about yourself then. I want to know you, know things about you. So… tell me things.”
I physically cringe from the lame way I said that but Everett doesn’t miss a beat. “What kind of things?”
“Like, how did you get into hockey?”
His deep laugh rumbles through me, lighting me up. “I stumbled across a frozen lake one day. A bunch of older kids were playing ice hockey, and I was so concerned that I stayed to make sure they wouldn’t get hurt or fall through the ice.” He shrugs. “I ended up joining them. One of them let me borrow their skates for a test trial. I was okay at the start, but that didn’t stop me from coming home with a few bruises.”
“I bet your parents loved that,” I retort.
Everett smiles but it doesn’t meet his eyes. “It’s just my mom, actually. My father passed away when I was really little.”
Everything seems to halt after he says it. My heart starts to beat wildly in my chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. I don’t have a lot of memories with him, and my mom is a big enough personality for two parents.” He pauses, like he isn’t sure if he should keep talking about it. My hand finds his arm, silently beckoning him to continue. He looks at where I’m caressing my thumb over his skin, his eyes fluttering closed. A few seconds go by, but then he’s back to holding my gaze.
“My mom’s a beta and he was an alpha. She couldn’t smell him but they would discuss their scents with each other. After he died, there was always a sandalwood candle burning in our house. It helped her, I think. And now, it’s what I think of most when I think of my childhood, or my dad. It’s nostalgic for me.”
I feel myself choke up a bit at his words, but I blink away the tears that are threatening to fall. I think about a young Everett, watching his mom grieve in the best way she could, all while he has no memories of his dad to cherish.
I wouldn’t give up my memories with my dad for anything. But then again, if there are no memories to begin with, there’s nothing precious to lose. The types of anguish are different, but noless valid.
“Are you okay, Rory?” he asks me, and I nod despite the single tear that’s just fallen.
I wipe at my forehead and try to play it off, fanning myself a bit too theatrically. “Fuck, it’s hot in here, isn’t it?”
Everett looks up at the ceiling fan going full blast above us and then looks at me with a smirk. “No, I actually want to get them to turn this shit off.”
My lips flatten and another tear falls. “I’m sorry. This is so embarrassing. I’m not used to getting so emotional so fast.”
Everett places his large hand on my shoulder and rubs along the blade, attempting to sooth me. “There’s no right way to be. Besides, I’m pretty sure this ‘getting to know each other’ stuff is supposed to be like this. Vulnerability doesn’t come without discomfort.”
I nod, letting the words sink in. “I was just thinking about my own dad. He died when I was seventeen and it was probably the worst time of my life.”
Everett’s eyes widen slightly, but there’s still an everlasting calm in his features. “Shit, Rory. I had no idea. That wasn’t very long ago.”
I answer with a slight nod. “No, it wasn’t. I’m okay, mainly, but the time around his death every year is still hard.”
His hand stays on my shoulder, a steady presence in a feral storm. “I wish I could say it gets easier, but my mom is like that around the anniversary of my dad’s death as well. Her usually bubbly nature is so dulled. It’s like her grief comes to visit her.”
His words speak to me and feel like an affirmation. It’s true. It’s like grief is both a nuisance and a friend, and their presence every year reminds me of what I’m missing. The good and the bad.
“I’m so glad you have your mom,” I tell him. “I wish I had a softer mother, one that actually gave a shit about things other than money and control.”
Everett starts to growl but then swallows the sound. “She’s the worst kind of alpha, Rory. I’m sorry you had to deal with that throughout your life.”
“Yeah,” I reply. “That’s why—before you and Dax—I never looked at any alphas. I didn’t want to meet an alpha and bond with them just to discover that they’re just like my mom. My dad… I don’t think he knew what he was getting into with my mom until it was too late.”
