Page 21 of Convincing the Heartbroken Beta

Chapter Seven

As Cam finished washing the breakfast dishes, he pretended he wasn’t the teensiest bit jealous that Sascha and Brandon were outside kissing and fondling each other next to the truck. Brandon was getting ready to head back to the Wolf Creek Pack, and while the display made perfect sense for fated mates, it was still hard to stomach. Less than twenty-four hours earlier they’d barely been speaking and behaving like they might contract rabies if they got too close.

Cam turned off the water then grabbed a towel to dry off his hands. Rather than being jealous, he should be ashamed by his thoughts. After all, hadn’t he been trying to encourage them to be together, to give each other a chance? Well, he should be leaping through the air with happiness that he’d been successful.

Instead, his stomach felt as if it was filled with cement and he was the odd man out.

Not that he had any right to be in, but that didn’t stop his weird feelings of rejection. They were all the more odd since no one had treated him badly. If anything, Brandon had gone out of his way to thank Cam for pushing him and Sascha had taken him aside and thanked him for the same.

Yet, when they’d both emerged from Brandon’s bedroom that morning with their arms around each other…

Cam sniffed, rubbing his finger under his nose. Shifters didn’t go in for counseling, but maybe that healer could give him some advice. He’d only ever confided in Hawk, but now that he was all about the sacred fated mate, who knew what he’d have to say about Cam’s predicament? How he wasn’t pining over one of them, but that he’d managed to be stupid enough to start pining over both of them. Yeah, Hawk would probably smack him up the side of his head.

“Hey, Cam.” Sascha practically floated into the room. “I’m still hungry. Is there any pizza left from last night?”

“Yeah, sit down and I’ll grab you some. But you should have milk with it, not root beer.”

Sascha chuckled as he slid across the pine window seat then leaned against the matching table with one elbow. “Okay, Mom.”

Cam smirked. “Ha ha.”

He went about his task, grateful there’d been plenty of baking soda to eradicate the leftover stench of the ancient carcass that had been rotting in the refrigerator. Brandon was a true bachelor.

Was a true bachelor.

But that would help keep him busy until Brandon returned. Winter was coming, so he’d check to see how much seasoned wood Brandon had in the woodshed, then bring some inside. The floors appeared as if they hadn’t been waxed in ages and undoubtedly there’d be a dust bunny invasion underneath all the furniture. Yup. Plenty of chores to do.

Cam had gathered everything he needed for Sascha’s meal onto the counter. “You want the pizza cold or heated?”

“Cold is fine.”

He turned around, plate and glass in hand, and was met with Sascha’s inquisitive stare. Cam averted his gaze then brought the pizza and milk to him.

“Here you go.” Cam set down the food and drink. “Enjoy.” He headed to the back door to make his escape.

“Wait!”

Cam pressed his lips together, his thumb on the latch. He’d been so close. With a sigh, he let go then whirled back around.

“Did you need a napkin or something?”

Sascha frowned. “No. I’d like to know why you’re acting so weird.”

Cam shoved his hands into his jean pockets and lowered his head. “I’m not acting weird,” he mumbled.

“What?”

Cam looked up and was back to being ashamed. Sascha had been so happy only a few moments before and now he was upset. He deserved all the joy in the world after months of horror, and what was Cam doing? Being a self-centered asshole.

“I’m sorry.”

Sascha slapped a hand to his forehead before falling back against the cushioned bench. “You’re sorry for being weird?” He shook his head. “Would you please sit down and talk to me? I can tell something’s up with you. I smell sadness and something else I don’t recognize.”

Shit. Cam knew exactly what it was. His damn jealousy.

“You don’t need to worry about me, Sascha. I’m cool. I was just about to go check on the firewood. Maybe chop up more if there are some logs that need splitting.”

“Seriously? Logs?” Sascha indicted to the chairs on the other side of the table. “Sit.”