Chapter 56

Ollie’s POV

Hugh suggests phone sex, but when I admit I skipped dinner, he insists that I should eat instead.

“You have to keep your strength up,” he says. “The next time I see you, I’m going to put that endurance to the test.”

He’s talking about marathon sex, which he seems to pride himself over. I blush, remembering how long he has gone in the past. I imagine he has been kind to me, and in reality he could actually go all night. He’s probably been working me up to that.

In which case, yeah, I should really keep my strength up.

“Go and eat,” he says, his voice firm when it’s usually teasing. He sounds like Conrad a little, when he talks like that. It’s easy to see how they are brothers. “I don’t want to hear any more about you skipping meals.”

“Okay,” I say.

After we hang up with each other, I hide the phone back in the drawer beside my bed, and then I head upstairs.

It’s been long enough now that the kitchen should be deserted. After dinner, the brothers, Diana, and Sylvia usually head to their own rooms to relax for the evening. If they are doing anything together, they would be in the main living room at the end of the hall. I can easily avoid that by ducking into the kitchen nearer the stairs.

My confidence holds right up until the moment that I actually open the door to the kitchen. I’m expecting not to see anyone, yet Wes is there preparing something on the stove. He has a recipe book out, and tons of supplies on the counter.

I freeze, halfway in the kitchen, halfway out of it.

He must be in a better mood now because when he sees me, he immediately beckons me forward.

“You are hungry, right? You skipped dinner,” he says. “I need a taste tester.”

In another circumstance, I might just turn around and forget eating tonight, not matter what I promised Hugh. But, seeing Wes in a good mood as he fusses over the stove, I decide to take a chance and step into the room.

It doesn’t hurt that whatever he is cooking smells so good.

“What is that?” I ask.

“Honey garlic glazed salmon,” he says. He gestures to one of the stools at the kitchen island. “Sit.”

I take the seat he motioned to, while trying to see around him while he sears the fish.

“You cook?” I ask, keeping things vague. I don’t want him to guess that I already knew that, because I’m the fated mate he’s cooked for once before already.

“Yes,” he replies simply. “At least, I’m learning. I have to practice though. I want to perfect the recipes before I make them for…” His voice trails. “Never mind.”

My heart soars. Is he practicing so that he can try to impress me?

“It’s almost done,” he says.

I wish I could tell him that he doesn’t need to fret. He’s great at everything he does and this is no exception. Instead, I just watch and quietly wait, not wanting to ruin this rare moment of kindness he’s showing me.

The tension over the flowers still hangs uncomfortably between us, but if he’s willing to ignore it, so I am.

It’s nice to be like this with him again, existing in the same space, not expecting anything or dreading anything. Both of us just allowed to… be.

Soon, Wes takes the fish off of the stove. He plates it, then turns and places it in front of me with a fork.

Presentation wise, it looks fantastic, and it smells wonderful. I let it cool for a moment, then I lift my fork and take off a piece of the salmon. Slowly, with him watching, I bring it to my mouth.

A flavor sensation explodes in my mouth, and I hum in delight. I chew quickly and swallow, and then tell him, “Wes, this is so good.”

I realize then that he’s looking at me kind of strangely, like he’s seeing something in me that he hasn’t before. It startles me, and I almost ask him what’s wrong. Quickly, though he recovers, shakes his head a little, and says, “Thanks.”

That simple word seems to close the door on us talking about whatever that just was.

In fact, a moment later, whatever softness he had in his face hardens as he says, “Though I’m not sure I can trust the opinion of an Omega.”

Ouch. “I’m still the same me, Omega or not,” I say.

“That’s part of the problem, isn’t it?” he says. As he looks at me now, I can see the disappointment in his eyes. He’s looking at me just like he did during the blowup over Jake’s flowers.

I know what he thinks. That I’m some harlot out seducing men, hoping to escape my fate. That I’m a liar, a manipulator. Someone who can’t be trusted. All of these things I’ve already been accused of by Wes and his brothers.

The moment we just shared? It was nice while it lasted. But now, I’m right back to being on the outs.

He looks around the whole kitchen but never again at me. “In exchange for that food, I’ll leave the cleanup to you,” he says, and then walks out the door, leaving me alone with the delicious food and the mess.

Joke’s on him, though. This salmon is so good that I don’t mind cleaning up. It takes some time to scrub the glaze from the pans, but once they are clean and put away, I sneak back to the stairs and descend down to my room.

There, I check my phones and notice I missed a message on my burner phone, this time from Wes.

I have a new recipe for you to try. When can we meet again?

My first instinct is to immediately agree to meet as soon as possible. My second reaction, though, is to stop myself.

Wes was a real jerk to me tonight. Yes, he was kind for a minute and let me taste the fish, but he didn’t have to say all that about not being able to trust my judgement. It would serve him right for me to ice him out.

But… since he doesn’t know I am his soul mate, he wouldn’t understand why I was suddenly so cold. And it’s not like I could tell him.

Besides, if I do go on a date with him, I would get to taste that dinner again. And he would be nice to me.

Wes can be so kind and gentle, supportive and protective.

His affection is what I want the most, even if I have to conceal who I truly am to have it.

When Sylvia came along, and all the brothers became distant, I had thought that Wes might still be kind to me and might still treat me with some affection after all we’ve been through.

Yet, even Wes eventually saw me in a night, unpleasant light. Though he was the last to treat me cruelly, he still eventually learned to, with help from Sylvia guiding him and painting me as a villain.

To be in his good graces again…

To have his affection…

I open the message and text him back.

Tomorrow at 6.

His reply is near instant.

I’ll be there.