Chapter 24

#Chapter 24 – An Impatient Man Victor surprises me by being helpful and efficient as we get the boys cleaned up and settled back into bed. For a man who has had an army of housekeepers his whole life, he proves himself very capable of stripping a bed of its sick-covered sheets and cleaning up vomit.

After Alvin has finally drifted off to sleep, Victor places a clean plastic trash can next to his bed, “just in case,” and comes over to where I am giving Ian a little cuddle, helping him drift off.

“Is he asleep?” Victor questions, perching on the end of the bed.

“I’m noooooot,” Ian protests, and we both laugh softly. He’ll be asleep in moments. When he finally drifts off, I carefully pull my arm out from beneath him and stand up. I gesture silently towards the door and Victor takes my meaning. We both step out.

“Thank you,” I say, pulling their door shut. “That was…a lot easier, with an extra set of hands.”

Victor studies me for a moment, leaning against the wall. “I never thought about that,” he says. “You cleaning up after both of them at once, on nights like this. That must have been…a challenge.”

I smile gently, laughing. “You should have seen them when they had colic, as babies. I don’t think I slept for months. When one cried, the other would wake up and cry too, in solidarity.” I laugh harder, pressing my hand against my check at the memory. God, what a time.

Victor doesn’t join me in laughing but instead stays serious. “You should have told me, Evelyn. I could have helped you. I could have…had those times.” He looks away from me, trying to hide it, but I can still see the sadness on his face.

Those were hard times, but I wouldn’t have given them up for anything. And Victor didn’t have even the option to see those times because I kept them from him. I feel the guilt gnaw at me.

“I’m sorry, Victor,” I say. “But you don’t know what it was like…the fear, that you would find out, and take them from me. My boys, the only thing I had…”

Victor glares at me for a moment, “I wouldn’t have –“

I raise my eyebrow and he stops, thinking, and then sighs. “Yes,” he says. “I would have. I would have taken them away. I understand.”

I nod and reach out to put a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s move on from it, Victor. Forgive each other.

What’s done is done – we both have them now, we can raise them together.”

Victor nods and gives me a smile. Then, suddenly, I realize that my hand is touching something wet and sticky.

“Oh, ew, Victor,” I say, pulling my hand away, realizing that it’s covered in Ian’s vomit. “Oh, gross, you’ve got it all over you.”

Victor and I both look over his soiled shirt and pants, realizing, together, that in our concern for the kids we had forgotten completely about his clothes. At once, we both start laughing.

“Come on,” I say, nodding towards my bathroom. “We’ve got to do something about that.” He follows me in, starting to unbutton his shirt.

In the bathroom, I run the tap, pulling some soap down from the shelf. Victor hands me his shirt and I douse it in the hot water, scrubbing to get the sick and the stain out of it.

“You were good with them tonight,” I say as I work. “Thank you – you were more patient, than I thought you could be.”

“What, do you think me an impatient man?” He says, and I hear him working at the buckle of his belt.

“Well,” I say, considering. “I’m not sure I think of you as a patient man. But really, that was some top-

notch dad stuff.”

I turn, the washed shirt in my hands, ready to take the next item of clothing, and am shocked to suddenly see Victor, standing there, in my bathroom, in his boxer briefs. My face turns beat red and I clear my throat, looking down as I hold the wet shirt out to him, hoping – ridiculously – that he doesn’t see my blush.

My mom-brain has taken over too much in this moment. All I had been thinking about was getting the vomit out of a set of clothes, not giving attention to the fact that this would – of course – result in a mostly-naked Alpha standing two feet from me.

Victor laughs softly, seeing my reaction. He takes the shirt and hands me the pants. Quick as I can, I turn back to the sink.

“Thank you, Evelyn,” he says. “it’s nice to see you flustered for once.”

“I’m not flustered,” I huff, working to get the mess out of the fine grey fabric. “I’m just…busy.” I finish, pathetically. He laughs again and I turn towards him, determined. Unfortunately, I’m sure that a little bit of the red remains on my cheeks.

Victor smirks in front of me, clearly not ashamed of his body – not that he has any reason to be. I can’t help myself as my eyes dart quickly up and down his. Victor’s musculature is lean, less bulky than other Alphas from powerful packs.

“You did well in there too,” Victor says, mercifully changing the subject. “Thank you for letting me help.”

I smile and nod.

Victor catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the sink and scoffs. “God, it’s everywhere,” he says, moving closer to inspect the vomit that clings to the skin of his neck and chest. “How did he even –“

“Who knows,” I say. “Sick kids are magicians. Here,” I wet a washcloth and move forward, offering it.

Victor mistakes my meaning and, instead of taking it from me, bares his neck so that I can reach. “Can you get it all?” He asks. “I think there’s some even around back, though I can’t see…”

Biting my lip, I move closer to Victor and wipe the skin of his chest, his neck. I put a hand on his arm and pull slightly, asking him to turn, which he does. As I clean off the back of his neck, my eyes drift down the musculature of his back, his glutes.

f**k, I think, biting my lip even harder, it is unfair for a guy to have such a perfect –

“Evelyn?” I jump as Victor says my name. “Did you get it all?”

“Um…” he turns towards me, and I suddenly realize how close he is to me, inches away.

“Did you get it?”

“Yeah,” I say, staring up at him, meeting his eyes. “yeah I….got it…”

Victor and I stare at each other in that moment, time ticking by, neither of us moving. All of a sudden I’m shocked to realize that six years have passed, that I’m a mother, a therapist, and a Rogue – that I’m not, in fact, a twenty-two-year-old girl at the Alpha party, seeing this man for the first time.

Being so close to Victor shuttles me back to that moment and, suddenly, I miss the girl I was. So full of rage, of life, of confidence – of hunger for what she is owed. Here I am, standing in my bathroom, blushing in front of this man, when the first time I met him I walked right up to him, determined to take him to bed.

She comes back to me, a little, in that moment, or perhaps I force her to – unwilling to become the shy and defeated Rogue that the world expects me to be. In this moment, I feel the Alpha within me again awaken and yawn after a long sleep, licking her chops, hungry for spring.

Victor, I know, can see the change in me. His body shifts, responding to it. His head dips lower, his shoulders settling back, as he takes in my changing scent and begins to bare his teeth.

“I think,” I say, holding his gaze, “that I have a little bit on my shirt too.” I don’t – I was more careful than Victor as we helped the boys – but neither of us acknowledge it as I pull my shirt over my head.

I shake out my hair, which falls in curling waves over my navy-blue bra. I take a step closer to Victor, remembering, suddenly, that night – the way he pulled me to him, claimed me with his mouth, with his teeth, remembered him behind me at the window, filling me –

“Evie,” his voice growls, and he puts a hand out towards my waist.

“MAMAAAAA” Alvin’s voice cries pathetically from the next room. I gasp, and Victor drops his hand, taking a quick step away.

I look up at Victor, coming back to myself, mortified at what I just – what I was about to…

I clear my throat and quickly grab my robe from the door, wrapping it around me as I hurry to the twin’s room and open their door. “Are you okay, Alvin?”

“Can you bring me some water, mama?”

“Yes, baby,” I say, my voice shaking slightly, with adrenaline, or fear, or…disappointment? I don’t know.

“In just a minute.”

I turn back down the hall, but Victor is gone from the bathroom. I hear something down stairs, and head down to the kitchen, where Victor is buttoning up his wet shirt, having already put on his soaking pants.

“You’ll message me in the morning,” he says, not meeting my eyes. “With an update? On their health?”

“Sure,” I say, clutching my robe closed with a hand at my neck.

He nods again, curt, and leaves. I stare after him for a moment. What the hell just happened? I head to the sink, filling up a glass of cold water for Alvin, and then drink it myself, realizing that I need it.

I’m going to need a whole lot of cold water, it appears, if I’m going to make this work.