5. Jeremy
Aloud, rhythmic knocking on my door pulled me out of deep sleep. I glared in the direction of the front door as I forced myself out of bed. Who the fuck was knocking on my door at this hour? Checking my alarm clock, I groaned. One a.m. The frantic knocks didn’t let up as I stomped over towards the door, prepared to yell at whatever crackhead had decided to disturb me just when I had finally managed to fall asleep.
Gilbert didn’t even stir—excellent guard dog, that one.
My anger melted away the moment I swung the door open, revealing the very pregnant, very wet omega who lived next door.
“Oh no, I woke you—I’m so sorry, uh, I kind of have a situation. A pipe broke? Or burst? I don’t know. All I know is that it’s now raining in my kitchen!” Daisy spoke so quickly it was difficult to keep up, but I caught the gist of it. “And now I—oh...” She trailed off, eyes roaming over my very naked chest, her face flushing bright red. I had opened the door wearing only my boxers, half expecting to be yelling at a crackhead and not a bedraggled, soggy omega.
“Let me get some sweatpants on and grab my toolbox,” I said, dashing back into my apartment and grabbing the pair of gray sweatpants I had abandoned on the sofa last night. Because the apartment was a work in progress, I had several toolboxes dotted around the place.
Daisy followed me as I headed into her apartment. She wasn’t lying; it was, indeed, raining in her kitchen. A pipe in her ceiling must have burst. Jumping straight into action, I ducked under the sink to find the water shutoff for her apartment. It was easy to find because mine was in the exact same spot.
Giving the lever a firm tug, I was pleased when the rainfall started to slow, eventually stopping altogether.
“Oh, I didn’t know that was under there,” Daisy said quietly. She was standing in the kitchen doorway, her hand on her bump. Now that the situation was less urgent, I could take her in. She was wearing a thin T-shirt and short pajama set...that was completely drenched.
Giving me an excellent view of her rather impressive breasts. Nipples strained against the fabric, and I resisted the desperate urge to free them, to taste them.
I was standing in the poor omega’s kitchen, staring at her chest like a total creeper—what was wrong with me?
“Don’t worry, I only know because I’m renovating my place.” That was a lie— everyone should know where their water shutoff valve is—but I didn’t want to upset the distressed omega any further.
The worst of the water was contained to the kitchen and could easily be mopped up. If this had happened in the living room or bedroom, the damage would have been far worse.
“Still, I can’t believe I woke you up! I’m so sorry, I just didn’t know what to do, and it was raining inside...” she babbled.
“Hey”—I kept my voice low and soothing—“I said you could ask me for help whenever you needed to, and I meant that.”
“But one in the morning?”
“When I say something, I mean it,” I affirmed.
Her eyes widened and she nodded, biting her lip. Judging by her situation, she wasn’t exactly used to alphas who kept their word. I was going to show her how an alpha should behave.
Hopping up on the counter, I removed a few of the ceiling tiles, looking for the cause of the damage. It didn’t take long to figure it out. A long nail had been slammed straight into one of her pipes.
“Well”—I laughed dryly, looking down at the nervous omega—“it looks like someone upstairs tried to do some DIY and failed, badly. I can patch this up easily, but I wouldn’t recommend turning the water back on until the apartment building does a deeper fix and deals with the idiot upstairs.”
Daisy laughed. “You’ve met the apartment manager, right? I’d be better off hiring someone to fix this, not that I can afford it.”
“I can do it,” I offered. Though I worded it as an offer, my stomach twisted violently at the idea of another man entering her apartment. If she needed something fixed, I would do it. Why had I even suggested telling the apartment manager? He was a slimy asshole who could use a few punches to the face.
“I’ll be without water for a day or two, won’t I?” she asked nervously, shifting from foot to foot.
“I should have it back on in the morning. I just need to patch this up tonight, and tomorrow, I’ll inform the apartment management that the upstairs tenant is being a dumbass.”
“Thank you!” She beamed at me as she shivered. The water wasn’t exactly warm.
“Why don’t you go take a shower at my place while I patch this up? It’ll take a few minutes, and you’re shivering,” I said, climbing down from the counter to talk to her. She was soaked through, and it was taking everything in me to keep my eyes averted from her chest. If she didn’t get dry and warm soon, she could get sick—I couldn’t have that.
“Are you sure? I could help?”
I frowned at her. “If you think there’s any way I’m letting a heavily pregnant omega climb over wet counters, then you’ve got another thing coming. Gather your girly shower bits and go get clean and dry while I fix this.”
“You’ve been feeding me and fixing things for me. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”
“Cookies. Cookies are all I want and need.” I laughed. “I ate that last batch so quickly. They were delectable.”
Daisy nodded, a smile breaking out across her face. “I can do cookies!” She turned to the kitchen counter looking at a mixing bowl that once held dough, but now held water. “Well… I was doing cookies.”
I suppressed a grin. She had been making me cookies again?
“We can take a raincheck on those,” I said, nodding at the ruined dough. The oven was also making a peculiar noise, so I switched it off.
She grinned, and burst into laughter. “Thank you!” She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around me briefly before scampering off to get her things from her bathroom. Scamper may have been the wrong word—it was more of an excited waddle? Whatever it was, it was cute and enthusiastic.
“Are you sure?” she asked again, appearing with a handful of toiletries.
“Dead sure. I just put in a new shower, and the water pressure is amazing. It would be rude to keep it to myself. Just watch out for Gilbert—the fluffy asshole keeps trying to join me in the shower. He’s a water dog and takes every opportunity to get wet and then shakes himself all over the apartment.”
Daisy laughed. “I’ll keep him out of the shower.”
“There are clean towels in the cabinet next to the sink as well. Do you even have any towels left?” I asked with a grin, looking at the towels lining the damp floor.
“I don’t! I didn’t even think of that, thank you. You’re amazing. How did I get so lucky?” She beamed at me before leaving to shower.
Lucky? I would have hardly called her lucky; she deserved the world.
Left alone in her apartment, I took a moment to absorb my surroundings. Her place was in worse disrepair than mine was when I’d bought it, and that was saying something. My place had barely been fit for human habitation back then.
Daisy had clearly done her best. Every surface was clean, but that didn’t change the peeling wallpaper or the chipped and scratched countertops. A few of the cabinets didn’t even have doors.
Grabbing a few tools, I did a basic patch job on the pipe. It would hold for several months, but the pipes desperately needed replacing . They were all rusted and shockingly brittle.
Daisy needed to live somewhere better. She deserved a home like the one I had with my pack. One with modern fixtures and all the bells and whistles that made life convenient. Personally, I wasn’t too concerned about those things, but she should have had every convenience at her fingertips, especially when she had much more important things to focus on, like growing the tiny human.
The patch took ten minutes and, once I was convinced it wouldn’t leak and would hold up, I got to work cleaning up the kitchen. There was dust and crap that had become dislodged when I had accessed the pipe, and the room was still coated in a thin layer of water.
Grabbing a mop, I got to work, quickly drying the entire room.
Before I jumped back onto the counter to make sure it was drying, I poked my head into the living room. There was a damp smell, and it wasn’t because of the recent indoor rainfall. Her windows were single pane and let in a terrible draft. And I spotted mold in the corners, even though she had clearly tried cleaning it.
The door was a whole other story. The wood was thin, and the lock looked about fifty years out of date. What on earth was she doing? This area wasn’t exactly secure—she should have had her door reinforced, at the very least.
Grumbling to myself, I started rummaging through my toolbox. If memory served, I had something I could use to make Daisy’s home a little bit safer.