“I don’t get why everything has to be a fight with you,” Brock snaps. I’m proud of him.
While I don’t want anyone to make a fuss for me, this is a big moment for my friend. Brock loves his brother deeply, but he’s always felt indebted to the alpha. Because of that, he tried really hard not to ask his brother for anything sincehe got clean, but this is what families do for one another—they help out when they can.
“It wouldn’t kill you to not be a prick for once,” Brock says, glaring.
“A prick?” Rhett’s scent sharpens, and he puffs out his chest, dominance filling the room. His scent is too sharp to really pinpoint, but I think I can smell hazelnuts. The intense aroma makes my hackles rise and my fist curls tight, but I stay put, letting Brock handle this. “If you want to call me a prick, that’s fine. But I’m not sneaking your old prison buddy across the northern border. I don’t need that kind of hassle right now.”
This isn’t my house, and I want to keep it respectful, but damn, this fucker is making it hard. “I’m not a prison buddy,” I say, voice steady. “I’m Brock’s sponsor.”
“Sponsor?” Rhett shoots me a hard look, clearly not buying it.
“I’ve been clean for over a year.” Brock steps up proudly. “No drugs, no booze. Hell, I even cut carbs.”
Rhett’s brows shoot up as he sizes Brock up. Looking for bloodshot eyes? Track marks? A neon sign that flashes ‘I’m lying’?
“I mean it.” Brock’s voice softens, sincere. “I’m clean.”
“You’re clean?” A softer voice comes from behind Rhett. He steps aside as a blond beta appears—Myrick. He’s dressed in a pair of pressed gray slacks and a tucked in pale blue polo. His hair is brushed back and carefully parted to one side. He looks like he should be parking cars at a country club.
“Totally clean.” Brock grins, clearly proud.
“That’s amazing!” Myrick rushes forward and wraps Brock in a quick hug around the waist.
I watch the exchange quietly. Myrick’s eyes flick over me briefly—a spark of recognition. I give a slight nod.
“You met Oli before,” Brock introduces us again.
“Once.” Myrick’s smile is genuine, warm but still a little cautious. “You gave me a ride when Brock needed help. Right?”
He’s right.
And I specifically remember how nice the beta was.
I clear my throat and step forward a little. “Good to see you again, Myrick.”
Myrick nods, eyes bright. “Likewise.”
Rhett watches us both from the side, his expression unreadable—but there’s a flicker of tension in his jaw.
A tiny dog trots right up to me, tail wagging with zero hesitation. He sniffs my boots.
“Hey there, little man.” I bend down and pick him up, pleased when he starts panting excitedly.
“She,” Myrick corrects politely. “Her name’s Dolly.”
“Hello, Dolly,” I snort at the unintentional joke. Myrick laughs softly, and I find myself smiling back. Damn, he’s cute in that polished, almost fragile way. Like a choir boy that’s begging to get dirty.
“I love musicals,” the beta admits, scrunching his nose as he scratches behind Dolly’s ear. I stare, trying to guess his age. He looks young, but Brock told me that he and Rhett have been together for twenty years or something like that.
“I’m really proud of you, Brock,” Rhett says, his tone tight, the kind a parent uses before a lecture. “But I’m not comfortable taking this…” His eyes flick to me.
“Oli,” I remind him.
Rhett sucks in a sharp breath. “Oli.” He says my name like it burns.This guy really is something.“I’m sorry, but I won’t be taking you into the Northern Territory.”
I glance at Brock, unsure if he wants to push it. Honestly, I don’t care either way. I’ll get up north one way or another.
“He’s not going to overthrow the government or some shit like that.” Brock crosses his arms, facing his brother head-on. “He’s looking for work.”
