Chapter 111: Storm Warnings
Chapter Twelve
Cade
Charlie Logan is going to be the death of me.
I decided this sometime around three in the morning.
Not because I’m dying.
Because I can’t sleep.
Again.
I lie in bed staring at the ceiling while my thoughts run in circles.
The kiss.
The grocery store.
The conversation.
The look on Charlie’s face when I told him it couldn’t happen.
Most of all—
The way he didn’t accept that answer.
I groan and throw an arm over my eyes.
This is a disaster.
A complete disaster.
Because the more time I spend around Charlie, the harder this becomes.
And the worst part?
I don’t want it to be hard.
I don’t want to fight anymore.
I don’t want to keep pretending that kiss didn’t feel like the most natural thing in the world.
I don’t want to keep pretending that every time Charlie smiles at me, something warm and dangerous blooms inside my chest.
I don’t want to keep pretending that his scent isn’t becoming a problem.
A very big problem.
Because Charlie smells like a storm over the ocean.
For four years, it never mattered.
Not once.
I noticed it, of course. You notice people’s scents. Especially as an omega. But it had always been background noise.
Jordan’s friend.
Charlie.
The loud one.
The reckless one.
The one who somehow convinced Jordan to participate in ridiculous ideas.
Just Charlie.
Now?
Now it’s everywhere.
Salt.
Rain.
Thunder.
Something wild and powerful that makes my omega want to lean closer.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
“No.”
The word sounds pathetic in the dark.
My omega disagrees.
Strongly.
Because my omega has apparently lost its mind.
The next morning arrives much too soon.
I give up on sleep and head downstairs while the house is still quiet.
Jordan and Charlie are asleep.
Which means I have at least a little time before my heart decides to ruin my day.
I start a pot of coffee.
Then another.
Because one seems insufficient for my current emotional crisis.
The smell of brewing coffee fills the kitchen. Normally, it’s comforting.
Today, it barely makes a dent.
I pour myself a mug and lean against the counter.
Outside, snow drifts lazily past the window. The neighborhood sits peaceful and still, wrapped in white.
For a moment, I let myself enjoy it.
Then footsteps sound behind me.
My whole body tightens.
Because of course.
Charlie walks into the kitchen wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt.
His hair is messy.
His eyes are still half asleep.
He looks unfairly good for someone who just rolled out of bed.
Not that I notice.
I absolutely notice.
His scent reaches me a second later.
Storm clouds.
Rain.
Ocean spray.
My omega perks up like a traitor.
I hate everything.
“Morning.”
His voice is rough with sleep.
I grip my coffee mug harder.
“Morning.”
Charlie wanders toward the coffee pot, and every step brings him closer.
Closer means stronger.
More noticeable.
More tempting.
Which makes no sense.
It isn’t like his scent changed overnight.
I’m the one who changed.
Or my omega did.
Either way, I’m suffering.
Charlie pours coffee, takes a sip, then makes a face.
“Hot.”
I stare at him.
What kind of observation is that?
He catches me looking.
A grin spreads across his face. “There he is.”
“What?”
“The judging face.”
I roll my eyes.
Charlie looks delighted.
As though irritating me is his favorite hobby.
Honestly?
It might be.
Jordan appears twenty minutes later, and the atmosphere shifts into safer territory.
Because Jordan is familiar.
Simple.
My son grabs a bagel and starts talking.
No greeting.
No warning.
Just words.
So many words.
I listen with half an ear while preparing breakfast.
Charlie joins in, naturally.
The two of them fall into their usual rhythm.
Arguments.
Jokes.
Mock insults.
The kind of friendship built over years.
Watching them together usually makes me smile.
Today, it makes my stomach twist.
Because Jordan trusts Charlie.
Completely.
Without hesitation.
He loves Charlie like family.
Like a brother.
And every time I think about that, guilt creeps in.
What happens if I ruin that?
What happens if Jordan looks at me differently?
What happens if he thinks I betrayed him?
The questions never stop.
By afternoon, Jordan decides he wants to show Charlie something at a nearby gaming store.
Apparently, there’s a new release.
Apparently, this matters.
A lot.
They leave together, loud and laughing as they pull on coats and argue over who called shotgun in Jordan’s car.
The door shuts behind them.
The house falls silent.
For the first time all day, I can breathe.
Or at least I think I can.
Then I realize I’m disappointed.
The realization annoys me.
Deeply.
I should be relieved.
Charlie is gone.
His scent is gone.
The temptation is gone.
So why does the house suddenly feel emptier?
I glare at my coffee.
The coffee offers no answers.
Rude.
They return two hours later.
Laughter spills into the house before either of them appears.
Jordan comes in first.
Charlie follows behind him.
My stomach betrays me the second I see him.
Wonderful.
The universe remains committed to my suffering.
Charlie carries several shopping bags.
Jordan carries twice as many.
Neither of them needed any of it.
I know this.
They know this.
That changes nothing.
Jordan disappears toward his room, already talking about setting something up.
Charlie lingers in the entryway.
Just for a moment.
Long enough for silence to settle between us.
Long enough for me to become painfully aware of how close he is.
Long enough for his scent to wrap around me again.
Storm clouds.
Ocean air.
Rain.
My omega presses against the inside of my skin.
Wanting.
Yearning.
Recognizing.
I grip the edge of the counter.
Hard.
Charlie catches it, of course.
Nothing escapes him when it comes to me lately.
His green eyes soften with concern.
“Cade?”
The sound of my name in his voice sends a shiver through me.
My gaze drops to the counter.
Coward.
“You okay?”
No.
Absolutely not.
I am losing a fight with my own biology.
I am one bad decision away from kissing my son’s best friend again.
I am very much not okay.
“Fine.”
Charlie snorts softly.
We both know that’s a lie.
Dinner is somehow worse.
Because Jordan spends most of it talking about future plans.
Trips.
Careers.
Apartments.
The future.
And every time he talks about it, I become more aware of the age difference between Charlie and me.
Twenty-two.
Thirty-seven.
Fifteen years.
Fifteen.
I try to imagine what I was doing at twenty-two.
Raising a small child
Terrified.
Alone.
Trying to be the best parent I could be.
Charlie is talking about weekend road trips and trying new restaurants.
Different lives.
Different stages.
Different worlds.
The realization hurts more than it should.
Because part of me wonders if Charlie will wake up one day and realize that, too.
Maybe he’ll look at me and see everything I already see.
The years.
The baggage.
The responsibilities.
The scars.
And decide he deserves something easier.
Someone easier.
The thought leaves an ache in my chest.
A familiar one.
One I’ve spent years avoiding.
Because getting abandoned once was enough.
I don’t think I could survive it twice.
That night, after Jordan goes to bed, I find myself standing on the back porch.
The cold air bites at my skin.
Snow covers the ground.
The neighborhood is quiet.
For a little while, I just stand there.
Thinking.
Trying not to think.
The back door opens.
I don’t turn around.
I already know.
Charlie.
His scent reaches me before he does.
Storm.
Ocean.
Rain.
Comfort.
Danger.
All at once.
For a moment, neither of us speaks.
Then Charlie steps beside me.
Not touching.
Just there.
Warm.
Solid.
Present.
The silence stretches between us.
Not uncomfortable.
Just full.
Like something waiting to happen.
“I meant what I said.”
My breath catches.
I know exactly what he’s talking about.
The grocery store.
The age gap.
Jordan.
All of it.
I stare out across the snow.
Charlie continues quietly. “I don’t care that you’re older.”
My heart twists. “I care.”
“I know.”
The honesty weakens some of my defenses because he isn’t arguing.
He’s listening.
“I don’t care that you’re Jordan’s dad.”
A laugh slips from me.
Soft.
Broken.
“Jordan might.”
“He loves you.”
The certainty in Charlie’s voice makes my chest ache.
“He’d want you to be happy.”
The words hit harder than they should.
Because I want to believe them.
God, I want to believe them.
But wanting something doesn’t make it true.
Charlie shifts slightly closer.
Not enough to touch.
Enough that I notice.
Enough that my omega notices.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
“Cade.”
My name sounds gentle in his voice.
Careful.
Like he’s handling something fragile.
Maybe he is.
“I don’t know what’s happening between us.”
Neither do I.
Not completely.
Not anymore.
“But I know I don’t want you running from me.”
The confession settles between us.
Raw.
Honest.
My chest tightens.
Because that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.
Running.
Avoiding.
Hiding.
Anything to keep my heart safe.
Anything to keep Jordan safe.
Anything to stop myself from wanting more.
The problem is—
I already want more.
And that might be the scariest realization of all.
Standing beside Charlie in the snow, breathing in the scent of storms and oceans, feeling my omega lean toward him with every passing second…
I begin to wonder how much longer I can pretend I don’t.
For the first time since this all began, I’m not sure which frightens me more.
Giving in.
Or never giving in at all.