Rebound (Latent Series Book 0)

by Alana Timms

  And one from his unofficial mentor, Josh: How’s the shacking up going?

  Noah: Pretty Good. Excellent. Zach came home from Top Dog today.

  Josh: Yeah Sebastian’s back too. So, you and Trent...?

  He deliberately misunderstood Josh’s question: We’re meeting Zach at Pegasus in half an hour.

  Josh: Good luck with that.

  Noah: Thx.

  He tucked the phone back into his pocket as Trent came out of the community center, his hair glossy in the afternoon sunshine, and the dark marks of insomnia absent from the smooth skin under his eyes.

  Trent opened the passenger door. “Do you mind driving?”

  “Sure.” He took the proffered keys and slid behind the wheel. “Nervous?”

  Trent hopped in. “Yeah, kinda feeling the pressure. The whole co-op’s probably putting down bets for how long before I throw myself at Zach.”

  The insecure part of Noah had been wondering the same thing, self-doubt flaring when Zach had called this morning. He wasn’t proud of it. Hell, even Josh was wondering, asking questions about him and Trent.

  “They’ll have a long wait,” he said.

  “Exactly.” Trent placed a hand on his thigh and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Because I love you, in case I didn’t make that clear earlier.”

  Oh, Trent had made it clear with his words, with his body, forever banishing that lingering insecurity. Noah felt settled, rooted. But couldn’t help teasing. “You do? No, that wasn’t clear at all. I think we need to work on your declaration strategy.”

  Trent laughed, swatting his arm. “Shut up.” He put his hand back on Noah’s thigh, mimicking the circular motions Noah made on his back whenever he sensed Trent’s anxiety.

  “An alpha walked into a bar…”

  Trent interrupted him with an agonized groan. “Stop right there. I’ve heard every bar joke a million times.”

  “Not this one.” He twisted at the waist to face Trent, his back against the door. “An alpha walked into a latent bar for the first time in his life. He felt like an imposter. He grabbed the closest stool and tried to act like he belonged.”

  Trent’s hand on his thigh went still. “When was this?”

  “A year and ten weeks ago. He sat on that stool trying to belong. The bartender—dark hair, incredible eyes—welcomed him. Stunned him with a smile. Asked him…”

  “What can I get you, handsome?”

  Noah nodded. “This alpha’s mind went blank, because, stunned. Desperate for an answer, he glanced at the specials board. A Rusty Nail, he said.”

  “Noah.” Trent leaned in again, kissing him on the lips this time. “Do you even like Rusty Nails?”

  “They’ve grown on me.” He thumbed at a smudge on Trent’s cheekbone; dust from the center’s store room probably. “By the time Andrew and I broke up six months after I first came to Pegasus, I was already in love with you. I didn’t admit it, not even to myself. Kept coming back though and drinking those damn Rusty Nails. The night you stood up to Alpha Logan for my sake…Trent, my own birth parents didn’t have the courage to do whatever it took to keep me. You stood up to Alpha. That night I found the courage to accept—no, to embrace the truth that I will love you till the day I die.”

  Trent chewed on the inside of his cheek, his eyes bright. He started to speak a couple of times but couldn’t seem to get the words out. He fumbled his seatbelt on and returned his hand to Noah’s thigh.

  Noah understood. Sometimes the weight of emotions defied articulation. He put the car in drive. Before too long, the community center had disappeared behind them, and Pegasus loomed ahead.

  Trent cleared his throat. “Thanks for persevering with the Rusty Nails.”

  He smiled, parking in Pegasus’s lot. “Any time.”

  They climbed out and strode across the asphalt. Whatever the speculation and the bets people were putting down, whatever awaited them in the bar ahead, he and Trent were fine.

  They were doing just fine.

  THE END

  ****

  Author’s Note

  Thank you for reading Trent and Noah’s story. If you would like to know a bit more about how latency came about, please sign up to my newsletter for a free copy of the short story, Truce, available only on my website:

  https://alanatimms.wpcomstaging.com/sign-up/

  I will also post other free m/m short stories on my website from time to time, based on works in progress. Read on for a sneak peek of Fever, Book One in the Latent Series, featuring Zach Logan and Sebastian Gage.

  “You got yourself bonding to him. The fever’s gonna eat the both of you alive unless you consummate your bond.”

  Zach Logan doesn’t believe in commitment of any kind. He’s not as physically imposing as most other alphas, or as focused; just happy to drift through life at a lazy pace…until Sebastian walks into his bar and jolts him out of his complacency. When Zach’s billionaire grandfather challenges him to prove his worth as an alpha or lose out on his inheritance, Zach can think of no better way of securing his legacy than by winning the annual Top Dog survival competition. But Sebastian’s also taking part in the contest, and Zach can’t focus on the game with their phenomenal chemistry keeping him on edge.

  Confident and powerfully built, Sebastian Gage is not your typical omega. He is a two-time Top Dog champion, and he’s absolutely going to win it for a third time. Three wins in row means he gets alpha Status for life. It means he gets the same rights as alphas and betas. He has it all planned out, until Zach derails him by being so distracting with his intense blue eyes and killer dimples.

  Sebastian can’t explain why he offers to help Zach complete the first phase of the challenge, which is a 200 mile hike through a jungle. Nor can he explain his fierce attraction to Zach. The words bond-mate and fever start getting thrown around, pitching both Zach and Sebastian into a panic.

  With Zach being a confirmed bachelor, and Sebastian being wary of all alphas after a disastrous marriage, the last thing either of them wants is to be forever mated to anyone. They agree to cool things off and focus on completing the first stage of the challenge.

  But can they fight the wild heat that’s got them sweating for one another? Will they make it through the jungle without giving in to the all-consuming fever?

  Fever is a paranormal m/m shifter romance with accidental bonding, a variation on fated mates and steamy scenes. Although the couple end up Happy For Now, there are unresolved plot elements making this a cliffhanger. Warnings for violence, mercenaries, past domestic abuse in the form of emotional abuse, and language. Fever is the first book in the Latent Series, a trilogy featuring Zach and Sebastian as the main characters. While there’s no mpreg in Fever, this does appear later on in the series.

  FEVER

  Chapter One

  Zach poured himself a double shot of whiskey and went back to his stool on the customer side of the bar counter. His best buddy, Trent, frowned at him from where he was fixing an electric-blue cocktail for a customer.

  That frown said, pay for your damn drink.

  Chuckling, he placed a handful of notes on the smooth counter and resumed people watching. Some kind of private event was about to take place. A launch or a promotion, something. Trent took care of those details. In fairness, Trent took care of everything. Zach was more like a sleeping partner. His name only down as co-owner of Pegasus because being and omega, Trent wasn’t allowed to be sole proprietor of a drinking establishment.

  Bullshit rules.

  The way Trent handled the million and one things required to run a successful bar, it was total bullshit for the law to insist he needed an alpha to assist him. Zach mostly ‘assisted’ in sampling the inventory. He certainly couldn’t take any credit for what Trent had done with the place.

  Jungle theme going on tonight. Fake palm trees everywhere, vines snaking across the ceiling. A stage was set up at one end of the room. On it were two high-backed bar stools and a high cocktail table holding bottle
s of water and a couple of glasses. In the background of this set up was a huge white screen.

  What had Trent said was happening here tonight? He couldn’t remember, and honestly? He wasn’t that interested. Nothing seemed to penetrate his indifference for very long these days. Existential fatigue.

  Excited chatter filled the air as customers waited their turn to order drinks. Maybe Zach was crap at making cocktails, but he could open a bottle of beer, pour liquor into a glass. He stepped behind the counter, earning a grateful smile from Trent.

  After a manic half hour, the crowd settled down.

  The lights dimmed and a guy came onto the stage. Sharp suit showcasing a slight frame, the guy was definitely not an alpha. Not a beta either; too slim for that, not tall enough. Omega, then. Most likely. Appearances lined up with Status ninety-nine point five percent of the time, but there was that non-conforming point five percent.

  “Hello, everybody!” the guy said into a mic. He sat on one of the stools. “You’ll never guess who’s waiting backstage.”

  “Sebastian!” someone called out.

  The MC grinned. “Yes, that’s right. Sebastian Gage, your Top Dog champion.”

  Zach poured himself another drink, remembering to pay for it this time. “Top Dog? What kind of circus is this, Trent?”

  “One that’s bringing us money.”

  “You. Bringing you money. I’m just part of the furniture.”

  Trent glanced at Zach’s glass, the concern in his wide, gray eyes belying his neutral expression. “Is this you saying you want a share of the profits? Because, be my guest, please. I never wanted to keep it all in the first place.”

  He drained his glass, loved how the whiskey burned. “I don’t give a damn about the money. You know that.”

  Trent pulled open the under-counter glasswasher. “Lately, you don’t give a damn about anything apart from getting wasted and getting off.”

  And what was wrong with that? At twenty-eight, he was young, free and single. What was wrong with him having fun? He had nothing against white picket fences. As long as he was on the outside of the fence looking in on the domestic bliss, which never lasted.

  “I don’t remember you complaining about getting off the other day.” He also didn’t remember how they went from best buddies to fuck buddies. It just kind of happened, and he went with it. Like a leaf going with the flow of a river, easy. Six months later, they were still fucking.

  The tips of Trent’s ears turned red. He loaded glasses into the washer like they’d up and run away if he didn’t get them in there quick enough. Zach refilled his glass and returned his attention to the stage.

  The screen lit up showing a guy striding out of the sea, his boardshorts hanging low on lean hips. Zach caught his breath. He lowered his glass onto the bar with a thud, unable to look away from the broad shoulders and tapered waist. The muscle delineated under tanned, glistening skin. Any alpha this hot had to be intolerable. Total pain in the ass. You could see it stamped all over the guy’s super-confident, long-legged stride. Those green eyes flirting with the camera.

  Forest green eyes; a world of pines bordered by long, thick eyelashes.

  Smoking hot, sure. But not Zach’s type. First? He steered clear of alphas as a rule. They made terrible hook-up material. Also? The guy wore his dark hair too long, and had too much of his face concealed by a full beard. Zach preferred a sensible haircut and a smooth jaw.

  Now Trent, typical omega with his chilled disposition and slender frame, he was exactly Zach’s type. So why he running his gaze all over Trent instead of checking out the green-eyed alpha on the screen. Cataloguing every detail, like the red-brown bead bracelet tangled with a black elastic hair tie around his right wrist. Black nail polish on his fingernails. Sun-bleached streaks in his dark brown hair.

  “For the uninitiated among you, Sebastian Gage holds the record for first newcomer to achieve medal position when he took bronze in twenty seventeen,” said the MC. “Gold for two years running. That’s Top Dog twenty eighteen, and again in twenty nineteen. Nobody has ever won gold twice in a row in the Island’s history. Sebastian, come out here and tell us how you did it.”

  The crowd rose as Sebastian strutted onto the stage like he owned it. Taller than Zach, who was not diminutive by any means, Sebastian had his too-long hair tied in a messy top-knot. Still had the beard, too. And the beads and black nails.

  “What’s your secret, Sebastian, do tell.”

  Sebastian laughed, a deep, rich sound that spread heat through Zach, burnt him like whiskey. What the hell, damn it? This guy was not what he was into.

  “Self-belief, is my secret.” Sebastian took a seat, his thighs splayed wide. “You have to believe the prize is yours before you even get to the Island.”

  He said many more things. Zach tuned out the words in order to concentrate on the gravelly timbre of Sebastian’s voice, how it wound through him, tightening his nerve endings like the mainspring of a watch. Winding; he imagined sinking his hand in that hair, winding it around his fist, tugging. Did not have to imagine being hard because he was getting there fast.

  “You’re drooling,” said Trent, his tone flat.

  Why deny it? “Yeah. More than drooling.”

  The crowd broke up to mingle; he and Trent got swamped with orders. Nothing he could do about his inconvenient boner. He tried to stay focused on serving drinks but found his attention wandering. His gaze scanning the room, restless. It settled on Sebastian, who caught him out.

  They stared at each other for one heart-pounding moment. Vertigo gripped Zach, a swooping sensation in his stomach as though he were standing at the edge of a sheer precipice. Sebastian broke the moment by looking away. Zach threw back a shot of something, disappointment dulling his taste buds. He’d wanted to fall off the edge of the world, with Sebastian.

  ****

  Sebastian

  All the questions and eager shiny faces were suffocating Sebastian. Could he leave yet? Too soon? He looked around the room for a wall clock. The place was rigged up like a jungle; a cutesy, storybook version of one. Plenty of fake palm trees, but no clock.

  He’d recently broken six months of living off-grid to start the promotion circuit. His senses were overawed by the crowd’s adrenalin, the smell of beer and aftershave, floral scents of perfume. The noise jarred after months of tranquility in his Colorado forest home.

  Something stirred in his peripheral vision. The hairs on his arms stood on end in response to the stirring. His gut tightened.

  He glanced around, and caught a bartender staring at him. The tightening in his gut hardened into an iron fist. For a moment he couldn’t move, could barely breathe. His gums itched, his canines threatening to push through like his wolf was answering a call. Real attractive, the bartender. Dark blond hair, clean cut features. Tall, athletic build; a beta probably, which was a bonus. Sebastian couldn’t stand alphas, the arrogant sons of bitches. But this hot beta with the intense blue eyes, had the potential to be a huge distraction.

  Looking away, Sebastian tuned back into the conversation around him.

  With a promotion circuit to get through and training for the Top Dog already in full swing, he did not have time for distractions. Three wins in a row would give him alpha Status for life. He had one shot at emancipating himself from being a down-trodden omega, abused by the system. One shot. He wasn’t going to fuck it up by becoming side-tracked.

  He stayed away from the bar, which was no hardship as he wasn’t much a drinker. Circulating through the room, he sipped from his glass of water, answered questions, impatient to leave. Eventually the crowd thinned out. He made his way toward the MC to let him know he was leaving. But then the strange awareness, that stirring, told Sebastian the blond bartender was behind him and closing the gap fast.

  He ditched his plan, cut left, and beelined for the door.

  Out in the warm night air, La Tragua’s lights twinkled a welcome as he speed-walked to anywhere. One block, two blocks. He st
opped. Why had he turned tail? Scared of a pretty-boy bartender. What the hell was that about? He used to be frightened once, long ago. Not anymore. He was scared of no one.

  He turned right around again. Ready to face the bartender, whatever that entailed.

  “Hey, Sebastian! Hi!”

  He looked over his shoulder. “Oh, hey.” Monty? Martin? One-night stand, he remembered that much. Met the man last time he was in La Tragua, at his brother’s birthday party in West District.

  “Michael.” The guy smiled, big and hopeful. “I heard you were speaking here, so…did you eat yet?”

  Yeah, that was it. Michael. A beta with great stamina. They hadn’t done much eating that night, and Sebastian suspected food was far from Michael’s mind right now. Tempting. But he had an early start tomorrow, and unfinished business tonight.

  “Yeah, I already ate. Thanks, though.”

  “No problem.” Michael nodded once, twice. “Sooo…”

  “Goodnight, Michael.”

  He sprinted the rest of the way to Pegasus. The door was locked, the windows dark.

  Well, damn.

  ****

  Fever is coming soon to Amazon. If you’d like a notification of its release, please sign up to my mailing list at: https://alanatimms.wpcomstaging.com/sign-up/

  Alternatively, visit my website for updates at: https://alanatimms.wpcomstaging.com/books/

  Acknowledgements

  To Chris and Kiki, thank you both for your support. It’s been a long road from writing the first word, to putting out the first book in the series. You’ve encouraged me every step of the way, even cracking the whip when procrastination got the better of me! Well, we got here, and it’s all thanks to you.