Page 54 of His Gift
It was already long past dark, which came fairly early at that time of year anyhow. The Pullman Center’s parking lot was lit upwith streetlights and decorations. The huge sign that advertised our event flashed on the LED screen that took up part of one side of the building. Beyond that, Norwalk was dressed up for the holidays with lights and wreaths. Christmas carols played over a distant loudspeaker that belonged to the skating rink on the other side of the street. It had been a stressful day, but Christmas was still Christmas and I would?—
My thoughts stopped as Enzo tensed and froze halfway across the parking lot. He was looking to the side at a man leaning against one of the light poles in the mostly empty parking lot. I could tell the man upset him, but it wasn’t his father. It was some middle-aged alpha in a leather jacket with an old-fashioned hat pulled down over his forehead.
“Do you know that guy?” I asked when Enzo pushed into motion again, nearly running for my car.
“Um,” Enzo answered.
He did know him, but he didn’t want to say how.
I didn’t like it.
I pressed the fob to unlock my car, and Enzo scrambled to get inside. He had the door slammed and was already halfway through putting on his seatbelt before I could get in the car.
Once I started it and headed out of the parking lot, I noticed the guy push away from the pole and walk on in my rearview mirror.
“Anytime you want to explain who that is and why you weren’t happy to see him, I’m ready to listen,” I said. I suddenly remembered the conversation we’d had more than a month ago about the weird dating service I was sure Enzo had signed up for. “You started telling me about something way back last month. Does this have anything to do with that?”
Enzo puffed out a breath like I’d caught him doing something bad. He sank a little in his seat and asked, “Can we talk aboutthis once we’re back at the hotel? Preferably in the bathtub after we’ve had something to eat.”
“You’re stalling,” I said.
“Yes, I’m stalling,” Enzo admitted. “But believe me, it will be much easier to talk about this with full bellies, surrounded by warm water, maybe with bubbles in it.”
I chuckled, not because I thought delaying what I was increasingly convinced would be a trying conversation was a good thing, but because the image of my naked omega surrounded by bubbles in a bathtub, possibly while bouncing on my cock, warmed me up.
“Okay,” I conceded. “But we’re not going to bed until you tell me whatever it is you’ve been trying to hide.”
Enzo sighed. “I’ll tell you, I promise. But you’re not going to like it.”
That much was obvious.
We made it to the hotel, which wasn’t very far from the Pullman Center anyhow, and up to our room. I texted Walt again once we were there, while Enzo ordered room service. I just wanted my brother to know, again, that we were behind him all the way and would help him stand up to Dad if that was what he wanted to do.
By the time a hotel staff member arrived with a cart containing everything Enzo had ordered, Walt texted me back with, “I’ll think about it. Thanks.”
It wasn’t the greatest answer, but at least he’d finally texted back.
“Was that Walt?” Enzo asked once I sat down at the table for dinner.
“Yeah,” I said, wishing I had something better and more comprehensive to tell him. “I think he’s coming around? Maybe?”
“He’ll see the right way forward,” Enzo said, digging into his pasta.
“Are you sure?” I asked, tucking into my supper, too.
Enzo grinned, and when he’d swallowed, he said, “I might have been texting him off and on today, too.”
My heart swelled with pride in my omega, and with love. Love wasn’t really what I’d expected from this whirlwind…it couldn’t even have been called a romance with Enzo. I’d bashed into his life like a shot fired from a cannon—and considering the way we’d played during the omega auction, that analogy wasn’t so far off track—and here he was, trying to solve all my family’s problems in time for some wonderful, Christmas movie worthy reconciliation. All while trying to conceal his problems from me.
Which I wasn’t so pleased about.
“Okay,” I told him once supper was over and we’d made a start on cleaning up after ourselves so that the hotel staff wouldn’t have so much to do in the morning. “Time for your confession.”
Enzo had been smiling and off in his own thoughts as we’d tidied up, but now his smile dropped and he turned to glance warily up at me. “Do I have to?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, borrowing a little from the character I’d played during the auction. I just had the feeling it was appropriate for the moment.
Enzo gulped, but not just because he knew it was time to pay the piper. It looked like my little dominance play did all the right things for him.
