Chapter Ten – Nico
When we get back to the house, Noelle goes to shower.
After so long outside, her body needs to warm up.
Alphas tend to run a little hotter, so I don’t need to.
I’m able to shed my extra layers and join the others in the kitchen, where my brothers are making some pasta dish while Miranda watches with disinterest from the island, dangling her feet off the edge.
“You know,” she says, “that actually smells pretty good. I didn’t know you guys were chefs—or are you only pulling out all the stops because you want to impress Noelle?”
Matteo gives her a grumpy look, while Felix is much kinder when he says, “We obviously want to impress her.”
“Yeah,” I chime in as I approach, heaving myself up on the island and mimicking the way my sister is sitting. “None of this is for you. You don’t get a plate—”
She frowns and elbows me on the side, and I respond by feigning hurt and scooting away from her.
“You three should be thanking me for this. The only reason any of this is happening is because I got tired of you four acting like nothing’s between you and decided to keep a few secrets about who was coming to the cabin.
If she would’ve known, she wouldn’t have come, and if you three jerks would’ve known…
I can only imagine how much stupider you would’ve been. ” She rolls her eyes at us.
“You say all that like we were being obvious,” Felix says as he stirs the pasta. “I guess I can’t speak for everyone else, but it wasn’t like I was drooling anytime she was over.”
“That’s right,” I agree with him. “He saved the drooling for behind closed doors—” My twin shoots daggers my way, but I ignore him.
Miranda rolls her eyes and says, “All I mean is you three should be thanking me. I’m the reason you finally got your omega. I’m the best sister there is—seriously, I’d like to meet any other beta sister who’s done as much for her brothers as I have for you guys.”
I laugh, mostly because our sister is so full of herself, but she’s always been like that.
It’s nothing new. Being around three alphas all the time, she had to be a loud, stubborn, outgoing personality to be noticed.
She’s a beta that acts like an alpha half the time.
Whoever she ends up with is going to have their hands full.
She frowns at my laughter. “I don’t know why you’re laughing like that. I’m completely serious. You meatheads are lucky to have me.”
Felix, ever the one to placate and smooth things over, turns to Miranda and says, “We are lucky to have you.”
“Damn straight.” She hops off the island.
“Now, make sure you make me a plate before you four sit down and eat. For obvious reasons, I will be taking my plate into my room and eating in private, so you guys can… you know.” She chuckles, flings her hair over her shoulder, and then bounces out of the kitchen.
A few seconds later, we hear her head up the stairs.
If I have to guess, I’d say she’s going to check on Noelle.
Matteo glances at me, taking in the fact that I’m sitting there, doing absolutely nothing. “You can get off your ass and get the dining room situated.”
Ugh, party pooper. Here I thought I’d get to coast by without lifting a finger. Too bad, really.
I know better than to argue, so I slide off the counter and do as I’m told.
I make four place settings, all of them near the head of the table.
I set them up so that Noelle will have one of us on either side of her, and one of us across from her.
Matteo will probably take the place at the head of the table, with Noelle to his right.
That leaves me and Felix to fight over who sits next to her and who gets the seat across from her.
I mean, I’m all for being as close to her as possible, but sitting across from her would make it easier to look at her, to watch her, to take her in and memorize every single detail about her.
Hah, listen to me, waxing poetic and shit. Didn’t think I had it in me, but something about that omega brings it out of me. She makes me want things I never thought I’d want.
A family. Kids.
When you’re young, you don’t really think about things like that, which is crazy.
I don’t feel that far removed from the carefree life I had when I was still in high school, but it’s been years.
I’m twenty-three now. Matteo is twenty-five.
A lot of alphas when they’re our age already have a kid or two.
Shit. I don’t know that I’d want kids right away. I suppose it’s something we’ll have to discuss soon enough, but for now, I think we’re all getting used to this new thing, to Noelle being our omega. Hopefully that bubbly feeling doesn’t ever go away.
Napkins, utensils, drinks; I get everything besides our plates situated while Felix and Matteo finish cooking. The creamy sauce they made smells delicious, and my stomach rumbles so much I’m tempted to have a pre-dinner snack, but I manage to hold out.
“We’re on our way down!” Miranda’s voice shouts from upstairs, our signal to make her a plate so she can take it and run.
Matteo fills a plate and sticks a fork in it, turning around the exact moment the two girls appear in the kitchen. I know I’m not the only one who sucks in a hard breath when I see Noelle.
The omega’s hair is clean and dry, curled slightly.
Her blue eyes are done up in a smoky yet elegant look, thin black eyeliner lining those beautiful eyes, ending in a small, curved point that goes along with her extra-thick lashes.
She wears a pretty red shirt with tight black leggings, and it suddenly occurs to me I’ve never seen her wear makeup before.
She doesn’t need it, truthfully. The omega is gorgeous no matter what she wears or how greasy her hair might be—but with the makeup on, she looks even more stunning. She literally scrambles all thoughts in my head, and my mouth falls open, no words coming out.
A first for me.
Beside me, Felix and Matteo are at a loss for words, too.
Matteo doesn’t even go to hand Miranda the plate.
Our sister has to grab it from him, and when she does, she rolls her eyes and mutters a single word: “Boys.” She leaves the kitchen after that, doing exactly what she said she’d do by heading to her room and giving us privacy.
“You look…” Felix trails off.
“Yeah,” I start. “You’re…”
Thankfully Matteo can finish both our sentences with a single word: “Beautiful.”
Noelle blushes and glances away, like she’s not used to getting compliments like that. Maybe she isn’t, but it won’t be that way for long. We’ll tell her however many times it takes that she’s everything, that she’s the very definition of gorgeous, until she starts to believe it.
Matteo makes our plates, and soon enough we’re sitting in the dining room, attached to the kitchen by an archway.
I chose the seat across from her, so my twin could sit on her right while Matteo takes the head of the table.
She’s looking so damn beautiful tonight, I don’t mind having an extra few feet between us if it means I don’t have to take my eyes off her.
All three of us watch her as she takes the first bite of the pasta, and the humming sound she makes when it’s in her mouth tells us what her words soon confirm: “Oh, my. This is delicious. Which one of you made this?”
“Matteo made the sauce,” Felix says, grabbing his fork.
“Don’t get used to it. It’s about the only thing Matteo can cook,” I say.
The corners of her lips curl upward into a smile. “It’s good. It’s so good.” Her bright blue eyes flick to Matteo. “You’re full of surprises.”
Unless I’m mistaken, I swear I see Matteo crack a smile, something so out of the ordinary for him, I wonder if I stepped into some upside-down world where nothing is quite right.
I can count on a single hand all the times I’ve ever seen my older brother smile, and most of them were for picture day at school, when we were kids.
We eat and talk about whatever we want. We already know so much about her, so it isn’t like this is an introductory dinner or anything. It’s oddly comfortable between us, even when no one is talking. Eventually the topic of conversation turns to the rest of the week.
“What else do you guys do while you’re up here?” Noelle asks, twirling some pasta around her fork. “Miranda brought gingerbread house kits. She said you guys always have a competition to make the best one.”
“We do,” Felix answers her. “We each pick out our own kit and bring it along. Once they’re all built, then everybody votes. Obviously, you’re not allowed to vote for the one you made.”
“I didn’t bring one,” she says with a soft frown.
“Don’t worry,” I say, “you can be on my team if you want. We can take down these suckers together.” My invitation does what it’s supposed to: it makes her giggle and try to hide a smile.
God, I could get used to that sound and that smile.
And then, of course, my mind wanders a bit, and I wonder what sounds she’ll make when she’s beneath me, full of my cock.
The mere thought of having her like that brings a tingle somewhere down under, and I fight to ignore it, not wanting to be too obvious that, in the span of a few seconds, I turned myself on that much.
Oops.
Felix carries on, “We get really into it. Sometimes there’s even sabotage.”
“Sabotage?” the omega echoes, stunned. “Really? I never would’ve guessed you guys get that into it.”
“Uh,” I deadpan, “everything is a competition when you’re an alpha. Trust me, you’ve never seen a gingerbread house until you’ve seen the gingerbread houses we make. They’re more like gingerbread mansions, with cute little gumdrop accents.”
“Do you eat them after?”
I suck in a hard breath for dramatic effect. “Do we eat them? Can you hear yourself right now? Asking if we eat them is like asking if you eat a family pet—they’re works of art, you uncultured swine. You don’t eat them.”
Again, Noelle giggles. “I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to eat them. It’s why they’re made out of edible stuff, otherwise what’s the point? You could just use glue and other arts and crafts.”
“He’s joking,” Matteo says. “Usually Nico picks off the candy he wants, while Mom and Miranda get first dibs on everything else. After our dads take what they want, they’re as good as demolished.”
“It’s part of the tradition,” Felix says. “Although I don’t know how it’s going to go if our parents never get here. I guess the ice storm is real bad out east. Flights are a mess. It might just be us.”
“That’s all right,” the über says. “It means more time with you, Noelle.”
She smiles, then shakes her head once. “This is… still surreal to me. I wonder how long it’ll be before it actually feels real.
” She brings her eyes to each of us, flicking that pretty stare from one alpha to the next.
“I was so nervous when Miranda said you guys were coming. I thought I’d have to close myself in my room the whole time.
” She glances down at her lap. “I am nervous about what my parents will say, though. I don’t like upsetting them. ”
Omegas are told, practically from birth, to be meek and mild. I bet that’s why she doesn’t like upsetting them. Still, she’s old enough, and she’s her own person. We’ll be there with her when she has the talk with them.
And, anyway, I’m ninety-nine percent sure her parents like us. I know our parents love Noelle, so there won’t be any problems on our side, but I genuinely can’t picture her parents getting that upset over this. If it’s as obvious as Miranda said it was, then they should’ve seen it coming.
“We’ll back you up,” Felix says, while Matteo and I nod.
“You shouldn’t spend so much time worrying about what they’ll think or what they’ll say.
If they love you, they should want you to be happy—and I hope you’ll be happy with us.
” He reaches for one of the hands on her lap to give her comfort, and the look she gives him in return tells me it worked.
That mere touch makes her feel much better, and suddenly I’m envious that I’m not there, touching her, too.
“I’m sure I will be,” she whispers, a sheepish expression crossing her beautiful face. “I’ve… liked you guys for so long.” The pause she puts before the word liked makes me wonder if she was seconds from saying a different word that begins with the same letter.
Maybe it’s just wishful thinking.
“You’re not the only one,” Matteo says, and Felix nods with him. I can only stare at her and wonder how long I’ll have to wait to tell her I love her.
Because I do. I think we all do. When you bottle up feelings for so long, for so many years, those feelings don’t go away.
You can’t make them disappear and fade from existence.
No, they stick around, clinging to you in the shadows you try to hide from.
They grow and grow until you can’t bottle those emotions up anymore, until the well spills over and you’re forced to reckon with the truth of things.
And my truth? My truth is, I suspect, the same truth my brothers feel.
I love her. I do. I love everything about her.
I love her laugh, the coy look she wears when she tries not to stare but fails.
I love her smile, the way her eyes light up when she sees me or my brothers enter the room.
I love how she only eats cheese pizza—if you dare get anything on said pizza, she will spend a good minute or two picking everything else off before she brings a single slice to her mouth.
So many little quirks and mannerisms I only know because she spends most of her free time with Miranda, at our house. So many little things most people wouldn’t think twice about have haunted me for years.
God, I love her so much this whole thing really does feel like a dream. I can’t wait for the day she says those three little words, too.
We finish eating, and then it’s a group effort to clean up.
It’s made much more fun with Noelle. After things are spick and span, we wind up in the living room and put something festive on the TV.
Matteo sits to her right, while I claim the spot to her left.
That leaves Felix to sit on the floor in front of her, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
If this is what the rest of our lives will look like, I’m down. I’m completely, utterly down for it.