by Beau Brown
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
OTHER BOOKS BY BEAU BROWN
Copyright
Chapter One
Brock
“Screw you.” The young alpha smirked and stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“Now, Lane, is that really any way to talk to me?” This was my first assignment as a school psychologist, and there were days where it was hard to stomach facing down surly punks who took great joy in telling me to fuck off. Not that Lane was a horrible monster, but the kid had a mouth on him.
I’d always wanted to be a school counselor of some kind, ever since Norm Tomlison had talked me down off an emotional ledge in the eighth grade. He’d been an omega like me, and the job was a good fit for him. Omegas tended to be compassionate and good listeners. His love of the job had inspired me to follow in his footsteps. But things were different back then; Willowby High school was a whole new environment these days.
“What are you going to do about it?” Lane snorted.
“I can give you detention.”
“So? I’ll just do my homework. Works for me.”
As if this kid ever did his homework. It was hard not to laugh. But I was supposed to be the mature one in the room, so I held my tongue. “How about I call your parents and see how they feel about this?”
His face blanched, and he dropped his gaze. “Whatever.”
I knew a scared kid when I saw one, so I knew I had a foothold. “I can call your mom and drag her down here for a heart to heart, or you can get your feet off my desk and fake some respect.”
He glanced up and then dropped his feet to the floor. “Touchy aren’t we?”
“Why did you hit that kid?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t like the way he looked at me.”
“I don’t like how you’re looking at me right now. Should I punch you in the face?”
He widened his eyes. “What?”
Okay. Maybe that was a little over the top.
I cleared my throat and put on my best, responsible counselor face. “If we hit everyone who annoyed us there wouldn’t be anyone left standing.” That was better.
“You can’t hit me. You’re a teacher.”
“Counselor.”
“Whatever.”
“What I’m saying is, no one should hit anyone.”
“Right.”
“Even when you think they deserve it,” I said.
“Uh-huh.”
I shuffled some papers on my desk that had nothing to do with anything. But I wanted time to think about my next move. “You’ve been in here to see me three times this month. That seems like a lot.”
“Maybe I love your company.”
“It’s obvious.”
He wiggled his leg nervously. “Are you really going to call my mom?”
I glanced up, hoping I looked stern. “I’d rather not.”
“Then don’t.”
“There have to be repercussions for you hitting Bobby.” I leaned back in my chair. I was really hoping he’d get with the program and I wouldn’t have to recommend suspending him or anything too drastic.
“He hit me back.”
“Yes.”
He sighed. “Neither one of us did any damage. Can’t we just apologize and shake hands or something corny like that?”
I held his wary gaze. “So you just get off the hook?”
“He does too.”
I tapped my finger on my desk. “Why are you so angry?”
His face turned pink. “I’m not.”
“You’re getting into trouble too much for a happy person.”
“I got shit going on in my life.”
“Trust me. We all do.” I hadn’t had a date worth talking about in a year. Sexual frustration didn’t exactly make me the most patient person on the planet. And if there was one thing a school counselor needed, it was patience.
He sighed. “My mom and dad are splitting up.”
“I’m sorry.” I winced. He was at an age when he’d really need a strong male figure in his life. I hoped his dad wasn’t one of those guys who just disappeared the minute they divorced the mother.
“Boo-hoo, right?”
I frowned. “No. That’s a big deal. My parents split up when I was in high school and I almost flunked all my classes.”
“Really?”
“Yep. It’s stressful.”
“Yeah.” He grimaced. “My dad… he uh… he cheated.”
I was surprised he was giving me details. “That’s too bad.”
“Too bad?” He arched a brow. “He’s a fucking asshole. My mom cried for three days straight. Why would he do something like that? She’s a good wife.”
His outrage was palpable. “Who knows? Maybe he’s feeling old, and he wanted to feel young again.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. That’s just pathetic. Is that what your old man did?”
“No. My old man didn’t cheat, he was a drunk. He liked to knock me and my mom around and she got tired of it. But he was still my dad, and it was hard when he didn’t live in the house anymore. He wasn’t an asshole all the time. Just when he swallowed a bottle or two of bourbon.” I probably shouldn’t have used the word ‘asshole’ in front of a student. Oops.
“Huh.”
I cleared my throat. “Anyway, back to you and Bobby.”
“Look, I’ll apologize to him first. That should mean something to the little shit.”
“I can see your apology is heartfelt.”
He scowled. “Bobby’s a jerk.”
“I’ll agree he’s no angel.”
He shifted restlessly. “Can we just do the apology thing and then he doesn’t get suspended either? He should go for that, even as dumb as he is.”
It was hard to squash my smile. I didn’t think Lane was a truly bad kid; he just had trouble controlling his emotions. A lot of kids his age did. Hell, a lot of adults did.
“Well, he’s right outside. We can run it by him.”
“Sure.”
I stood and came around the desk. “Promise me you won’t take another poke at him if I bring him in here?”
“I won’t.”
I opened the door and Bobby Wilson stood up from his seat, looking nervous. “Hey, Mr. Pilot.”
“Lane is in here with me. Can you two behave if I bring you in to talk?”
He nodded. “Yep.”
I waved him in to the room and he slipped past me. He met Lane’s gaze. “Hey,” he said gruffly.
Lane just stared.
I closed the door. “Now, guys, what I need is for you to—”
“I’m sorry.” Lane stood quickly and stuck his hand out toward Bobby.
Bobby looked shocked, but he took the offered hand. “Oh, okay. Yeah, me too.”
“Great.” I rubbed my hands together. “Now you two need to understand, if you get into another physical altercation, you’ll both be suspended. I won’t even bother talking to you.”
“Okay.” Bobby nodded.
“We won’t.” Lane pushed his hands into his pocket.
I glanced at my watch. “Five minutes till school’s out. Why don’t you boys wait outside? No point it going back to class.”
They left the room, and I sat and put my feet up on my desk. I’d actuall
y managed to solve one problem today. Maybe it didn’t seem like much, but lately, any victory was hard to come by.
There was a knock on my door.
“Come in.”
Pete Smith, the P.E. coach for Willowby High poked his head in. “A couple of us are going to The Pink Cap. You wanna come?”
The Pink Cap was the only gay bar in town. Pete, me and a couple of the other gay guys who worked at the school liked to go there to unwind most Fridays. It was one of the few places in town where we could be ourselves and not worry about getting gay bashed by some drunk.
Since I was feeling pretty amazing after bringing Bobby and Lane together, I decided a celebratory drink was perfect. “Sure. I’ll come.”
He pointed at me with a smirk. “Hey, it’s not that kind of get together.”
I laughed and stood. “Very funny. You have a dirty mind.”
He chuckled. “You want a ride over?”
“Nah, I’ll drive. That way I can leave when I want.”
Pete scowled. “Don’t ditch us so early this time, Brock. I mean, you won’t turn into a pumpkin just because you stay out past midnight.”
“I know. I just don’t love it when the drunk alphas start hitting on anyone with a cock because it’s last call and they want sex. It’s demeaning.”
“Yeah. But there’s leaving at eight and staying till two. Somewhere in the middle is where you should fall.”
“I’ll do my best.” I didn’t really see the point in hanging around a bar if there was no one there who I found interesting. But I’d try and stay longer tonight, to pacify my friend. “I’ll meet you there.”
He left, and I organized my paperwork for tomorrow. Then I grabbed my keys from the top drawer and headed out to the faculty parking lot. When I pulled out onto the main drag, I sighed, letting off some of the week’s tension. The semester had just started, and I already felt drained.
I was about two blocks from the school when I noticed a cop car behind me. My heart sped up and sweat broke out on my forehead. I always got nervous when a police car was behind me; even when I hadn’t done anything wrong.
When his red lights came on and his siren made a loud blipping noise, my heart started pounding even harder. He was pulling me over? Why? I guided my vehicle to the first empty spot I could find along the road. I stayed in my seat, trying to think what I could have done wrong.
The cop approached slowly, speaking into a little shoulder radio. He looked imposing in his dark uniform as he strode confidently toward me. When he reached my door, he tapped on the glass. “Could you please roll your window down, sir?”
I turned the key and did as requested. I was so freaked out the whirring of the window mechanism could have been the sound of my pulse. “Did I do something wrong, officer?”
“License and registration please.” He was tall and blond, with a muscular build, and he wasn’t smiling, which made me twice as nervous.
“Was I speeding? I would swear I was going the speed limit.” I grabbed my registration from the glove compartment, and then I wiggled my wallet from my back pocket. Sliding my license out, he took it from me. He frowned at my ID for a second and then he glanced up.
“Brock Pilot?”
“Yes.” I nodded. My picture wasn’t the best. It made me look ten years older and fatter.
He cleared his throat. “Were you aware your rear left brake light is out, sir?”
I grimaced. “Really?”
“I never lie about brake lights.” I couldn’t read his expression because he had on sunglasses, but I could have sworn his lips twitched.
“Oh, no.” I laughed awkwardly. “I wasn’t questioning you. It was a rhetorical... never mind.”
“Can you please stay in the car while I run your license?”
“Of course.” More sweat beaded on my upper lip as I watched him head back toward his car. Why am I so fucking nervous? I haven’t done anything wrong. I’d just get the damn light fixed and all would be well. It wasn’t like I had a dead body hidden in the trunk.
He stayed over by his cruiser for a while as cars whooshed by. Then he came back in my direction, I noticed his confident walk and the proud tilt of his head. He had to be an alpha. Omegas didn’t walk with the same authority, and most cops were alphas. It suited their bossy personalities.
“Well, as far as I can tell, you’re not on the run from the law.” He handed me my license and registration back.
When our fingers brush, my pulse fluttered, and I clenched my jaw. It was annoying how easily omegas were drawn to alphas; whether we liked it or not. It was pure instinct because the need to belong to an alpha was strong in all omegas. Even enlightened ones, such as myself.
He cleared his throat. “I’m not gonna give you a fix-it ticket, Mr. Pilot. I’m going to let you go on your way, but you need to promise me you’ll get that fixed this weekend.”
Relief filled me. “Absolutely.”
“It’s not safe.”
“Right. I understand.” Scanning his dark blue uniform, I saw the name Officer Campbell sewn over his left pocket. “And um, thank you for not giving me an actual ticket, Officer Campbell.”
“You’re welcome. Don’t make me regret my leniency.”
“No way. I’ll take the car in tomorrow.”
He hesitated and then gave a little smile. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.” He moved back to his vehicle and I couldn’t help but watch him go.
He had a nice body and his scent was clean and masculine. Sometimes alphas had overpowering musky aromas, but his was nice. I shivered, remembering his smile. It had been a while since I found an alpha attractive because they were sexy, and not just because they were an alpha.
I put the car in gear looking forward to The Pink Cap more than I had been before. I needed to put more effort into meeting someone, if only so I didn’t spend every Saturday night alone. Maybe tonight I’d meet a guy who had the potential for more than just a one-off.
Chapter Two
Trevor
“Brock Pilot? Son of a bitch. I pulled over Brock ‘Squeaky Clean’ Pilot?” I laughed and started my car, watching Brock drive away. I hadn’t seen him since high school. We hadn’t been actual buddies, more like friendly acquaintances. But my first day at Willowby High, he’d been the kid assigned to show me to my classes.
I remembered him as quiet, intelligent, and he’d never once acted like getting stuck with me for the day had been a problem. In fact, his kindness had given me the confidence to try and make friends with some of the other students.
I’d thought about him a few times over the years. There’d always been something about him I found attractive. Way before I even knew I was gay, I’d found his scent and warm blue eyes alluring. But we’d run in different crowds. I was always more of a jock type and he was the kind of kid who’d run the chess club. But I’d never forgotten him.
He hadn’t recognized me just now, which I guess was no huge surprise seeing as it had been at least eight years since we’d graduated. I’d filled out and put on a lot more muscle. He’d looked so similar to how he had back in high school. His face was slightly fuller and his shoulders broader, but overall, he’d still appeared a lot like he had in school.
I pulled into the station parking lot. My shift was over and I was beat. It had been a long week filled with mouthy pedestrians and drunk drivers. Willowby was a small town an hour outside of Denver. It was a great little place to live, but because it was a smaller city, people got bored easily. It was the sort of town where neighbors mowed each other’s lawn without asking and watched out for one another. But no town was perfect, and Willowby was no exception.
Walking into the building, the chill of central air was a nice break from the summer heat. I smiled at Polly, who manned the front desk, and headed into the locker room to change. Once I had on jeans and a clean shirt, I sat on the bench to put on my shoes.
Harry Portman, one of my fellow officers, came into the area. “Hey, Trevor.” His voice b
oomed in the small room.
“Harry.” I stood and sighed.
“Want to grab a drink?” he asked, pulling off his shirt.
“Where?” A lot of the guys loved to hang out at Danny’s Place. It was a divey redneck kind of bar with dark wood, a jukebox and a limited booze menu. People didn’t go to Danny’s Place for the ambiance or romance. They went there to get good and drunk on a Friday evening. Tonight, I was kind of hoping to meet someone and I wasn’t going to meet anybody gay at Danny’s Place. You’d be far more likely to get your ass kicked than to get a date.
“Wherever you want. It’s just you and me tonight.”
“Seriously? Since when do the guys miss a Friday night bar cruising?”
“It’s Jenkin’s bachelor party tonight.”
I grimaced. “Shit. I forgot.”
“Trust me, ain’t nobody going to miss the two gay dudes who don’t make it to the strip bar.” He chuckled.
“That’s the truth.” I laughed. “Well, how about The Pink Cap?”
“Sounds perfect.” He smirked. “Maybe I can get someone to blow me in the bathroom again.”
“You’re a class act, Harry.”
“Hey, I didn’t have time to clean my house. I can’t bring anyone home with me.”
I shook my head. “You need to think ahead more. Then your sex-life wouldn't only consist of guys sucking you off in the can.”
“You mean think ahead like you?” He arched one thick brow. “I’ll bet your house is spotless, but what’s the point? You never bring anyone home.”
“I prefer to go to their place. So sue me.”
“Why is that?”
“Because then I can leave when I want. There are no awkward, long goodbyes while trying to push the guy out the door.”
“True.” He snorted. “And it’s not like you ever see the same guy twice, right?”
“Nope.”
He studied me. “But it seems like you haven’t picked anyone up the last few times. Why is that?”
I shrugged. “No one has interested me. Although, I’ll be honest, I’m hoping for a little action tonight.”
“Good.”
I brushed my palm over my shirt, smoothing out any wrinkles. “It would be nice to meet someone who I find attractive and could also have a conversation with. But I won’t hold my breath.”