I was sitting in the living room mindlessly flicking through channels when I heard the old man pull my car around the corner. I had half a mind to get up and take off before he got to the house but thought better of it; it was better to just get whatever shit storm was going to happen over with and move on.

I didn't look away from the monotonous flicking on the television as he poked his head into the living room after coming through the front door. "You alone?" He asked, looking around expectantly.

I nodded, pursing my lips and finally turning to face him in the doorway. "Yeah, Emb had to go."

Dad nodded and turned toward the kitchen. He returned a few minutes later with two cans of beer. I clicked the TV off, tossed the remote onto the couch cushion next to me and sat forward with my elbows on my knees. The old man handed one of the beers to me as he passed the sofa and flopped into the armchair with a heavy sigh.

Neither of us said anything for a long time, the only sound in the room was the sound of the bubbles popping inside the beer cans and the clock in the kitchen ticking the minutes past. Finally, with another long sigh and a hand dragged roughly over his beard, Dad looked at me and started in.

"I'm guessing he…"

"Embry," I insisted, easily picking up on his reluctance to use his name.

He took a breath and continued. "I'm guessing Embry's had something to do with why you've been easier to be around lately?"

I couldn't help but smirk at that; of course it was such a change that even the old man would notice despite the fact that we hardly ever saw each other. "Yeah, probably," I agreed with a shrug.

He sat quietly for a few more minutes, turning his beer can in his hands. I could feel the tension rolling off him and it was putting me on edge, mounting and crackling in the air until it set me off.

"Just say what you've got to say, already," I snapped, launching myself up from the couch and pacing the length of the living room and back. "If you've got a fucking problem with Embry just say the word and I'm gone, but don't sit there and pretend that you're okay with this, because I know that you're not!"

"Honestly, you fucking a dude is the last of my worries," he scoffed, sitting forward in his chair. "Jesus, kid, how am I supposed to get pissed off at the one thing that seems to have calmed you the fuck down since this whole nightmare began?"

I stopped my pacing and turned to face him, raising a questioning eyebrow in his direction. My heart pounded furiously, echoing in my ears and drowning out every other sound in the room. Was the old man saying what I thought he was?

"You think I don't know where you sneak off to practically every night?" he answered my unasked question. "How am I supposed to give a shit about who you're messing around with, when my kid—my only fucking family—goes off and turns into some giant fur ball to fight something that shouldn't even fucking exist?"

"You know?" I collapsed back onto the couch as the realization hit me. The anger that had been simmering under the surface of my skin fell away, leaving me feeling completely empty. I felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. Since this whole shit show had started I had thought a million times how much easier it would be if I didn't have to sneak around and pretend everything was fucking normal, and here he was telling me that he'd known all along.

"You think I've never heard the fucking legends?" he asked, raising his eyebrows pointedly before continuing on. "I grew up on this Res., just like you, listening to the same fucking stories that Billy's been telling since you were a kid. That didn't make it any fucking easier to swallow when I saw you, though. I nearly had a fucking heart attack."

I watched as he sat back in his chair again, rubbing his hand over his face. I couldn't think of a single thing to say. I'd thought I had been careful to keep the pack secret from him, but here he was telling me that he'd known for who-the-fuck knows how long.

"So, you being gay isn't..."

"I'm not gay." He raised his eyebrows at me accusingly in response to my protest and the defiant look I gave with it. "I'm not," I insisted, shaking my head. "It's just Embry."

"Whatever you want to call it, Paul, it's not the biggest of my concerns when it comes to you, alright? It was a bit of a shock this morning considering you've usually got a different girl every week, but it's not a problem. I don't give a shit who you're sleeping with." He paused to drain his beer, crushing the can and setting it on the side table. "Just...keep it in your room, alright? I don't really want to walk in on the two of you again," he said with a nod, still not making eye contact at all. "And I'll knock, I swear to God I'll knock from now on."

I snorted a choked-off laugh at that. I couldn't help it. Dad finally looked up at me after what seemed like the first time since he came in, and I fought to control a bout of surprised giggles. For the second time that night, the old man surprised me as he burst out with his own booming guffaw. "And people wonder why I drink!" he roared, his entire body shaking with laughter.

After the unexpected laughing fit passed, Dad got up and walked to the kitchen. I hadn't expected any of what had just happened between us, but given the heaviness of the conversation that seemed like an unceremonious ending even for him. I just sat there thinking over how wrong I'd been about his opinion of me all this time. Maybe it was time I cut the old guy a little slack; clearly he had been doing just that for me.

"Just Embry, huh?" he asked from where he leaned in the living room doorway after I'd sat quietly for a while, a fresh can of beer in his hand. "That a wolf thing?"

"Something like that," I admitted with a smirk, looking sideways at him.

"That legend's true, too, is it?" He raised his eyebrows knowingly at me, and mirrored my nod. "We don't need to have a talk about you treating him right, then, do we?"

"It wasn't me that imprinted," I muttered, still not comfortable with taking about the imprint after all that Embry and I had been through in the last couple of months.

"He's a wolf, too?" Dad's eyebrows shot up his forehead in question.

I nodded. There really wasn't need to elaborate on that. If the old man had figured out what was going on with me and the pack, it wouldn't take much for him to draw the conclusion that Embry's dad would have to be Quilleute for him to be a wolf. It's not like the whole tribe hadn't speculated about his father since he and his mom had moved to the Res. when he was just a kid.

"Well, at least you don't need to hide it from him, because, honestly, kid, you're pretty shitty at keeping secrets," Dad laughed. "And that doesn't mean you don't need to treat him right," he added over his shoulder as he turned to walk down the hall to his room.