Page 97 of Overtime


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It’d been hard to believe him at first. “You could have just told me,” Zammy had said, or something like it, but he hadn’tknown. He hadn’t known what it had been like for Zane to stare at their nest and feel his heart break. To barely be able to breathe as he took it apart, feeling as though he were ripping his skin in shreds, revealing the raw muscle and bone underneath.

He hadn’t been the one to listen to his best friend get fucked by some Alpha in their home and feel a wrath so big and vicious that he’d truly thought, for a small moment, that he’d kill the guy in cold blood.

Zammy hadn’t pressed himself against a door and listened to Zane jerk off like some fucking creep in a movie. Zane was out of his goddamned mind, and Zammy wanted him to just…confess?

Zane hadn’t been able to fully accept the depravity himself, let alone admit it out loud.

But Zammy had just…taken it in stride. All those years of worry and self-hate washed away by Zammy’s simple, all-encompassing love.

And now there they were, one year since their mating, and life was better than Zane had even thought possible.

They’d already gone through their summer ruts, so they were free to celebrate their anniversary how they wanted. Zammy had insisted Zane let him plan the night, telling him to meet at some bar Zane had never gone to even though they lived together.

Zane hadn’t protested. There was something in Zammy’s eyes that hinted at a nefarious plot being put in motion, and he wasn’t going to get in the middle of that.

Zane regretted not asking any questions as soon as he spotted his mate. There was Zammy, sitting at a booth in the corner, face lit up by candlelight.

And there was Carl, sitting way too close beside him.

It wasn’t the first time they’d done something like this. Not with Carl specifically, but it was agreed that they both got off on Zane getting jealous when Zammy did it on purpose. It made Zammy feel wanted and owned, and it let Zane air out his possessive bullshit in a controlled way.

This, though—havingCarlinvolved—was a step beyond that.

Across the room, Zammy and Zane’s eyes locked. The world slowed down, dimming at the edges.

Zane knew that if he walked away or shook his head, this would be over. Carl was probably in on it, and he’d be excused, and Zane and Zammy would have a nice night out.

Instead, Zane prowled forwards, stopping right at the edge of the table.

Zammy and Carl smiled up at him, the former distinctly more mischievous.

“I see you guys have started without me,” Zane pointed out, nodding at the half-empty cocktail glasses on the table.

“I wanted some time alone with Carl,” Zammy said easily.

Irritation boiled in Zane’s gut even as he slid into the opposite side of the booth. He tried to unclench his jaw, but the sight of his mate cosied up to an Alpha who hadknotted himin the past was putting him on edge. “That’s nice. What’s up, man? Good to see you,” he aimed at Carl.

Zammy probably felt smart, cooking this up. Poking at Zane and waiting until he lost control. But Zane wasn’t going to lose this one.

He was going to keep his anger on ice and beat Zammy at his own game.

Carl appeared a little surprised at Zane’s affability but responded happily. “Good! I was just telling Ishir that my job’s got me travelling all over the place. It’s been tiring but pretty cool, too.”

Zammy butted in. “He was inJapan. Isn’t that cool? He went to anonsen.”

Zane quirked an eyebrow. “I have no idea what that is.”

Carl explained. “They’re resorts that have hot springs in them. Most of them are super traditional—some don’t even allow people with tattoos.”

Zane nodded slowly. “Cool. Babe, don’t you complain that hot tubs are too hot?”

Zammy tried to look annoyed, but Zane could see how he was biting back a smile. “This is different. These are natural.”

“Oh,natural. Gotcha. Well, we can go to Japan next summer if you want,” Zane offered.

“Oooh, yes. We can go visit you, Carl, if you’re posted there next summer.”

Zane tamped down the automatic ‘The fuck we will.’ He was cool, calm, and collected. The way Carl’s arm was pressed against Zammy’s wasn’t getting to him at all.

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