Chapter Thirteen – Noelle
When I get up in the morning, Matteo is already out of my bed. I feel his absence the moment I wake, but that warm, snuggly feeling lingers, so I stay in bed for a while longer. A part of me is nervous, as stupid as it is, to get up and face the day. Or, more likely, to face the others.
Felix and Nico probably already know, since Matteo is up. Miranda, on the other hand, is never going to let me live it down. She’s going to declare we owe her our first-born or something like that, since she’s taking all the credit for this match.
I don’t know what time it is when I finally roll myself out of bed, and I don’t care.
That’s the thing about holidays: it’s all about relaxing, going at your own pace.
It’s what you wish every day was like. I suppose, in a way, it’s what every day will be like once I move in with Matteo and the others.
They’ll take care of me. I won’t have to worry about a thing.
A crazy thing, that, to the point where it blows my mind.
Some omegas might hate being constrained, they might want to go out and live their lives, get jobs, be their own person without having alphas looking over their shoulders, but to me—to a girl who never really thought she’d have a pack like that—I welcome it.
It’s a comfort, knowing I have three alphas who’ll do anything for me, and the money to back it up.
I sure hope Matteo was telling the truth when he said he’ll take care of my parents. My mom and dad kill themselves with how much they work, lately all for me and that silly dowry thingy. It’s high time they relax.
My dad’s a busybody, so the relaxation on his part probably won’t last, but still. It’s always nice to have the option, to not be forced to work, work, work.
I throw on some clothes, pull my hair up in a messy bun, and shuffle out of my room with a yawn.
Immediately, the moment I step out into the hall, I smell a delicious aroma.
Bacon, if I have to guess. That aroma lures me downstairs, to the kitchen, where I find my three alphas working together to make breakfast.
Eggs, the dippy kind, bacon, sausage, and toast. A whole feast. My mouth waters when I see all the food, and not long after I sit at the island Felix slides me a glass of orange juice.
“Drink up,” he says with a wide smile and a twinkle in his eyes.
“Yeah.” Beside him, Nico grins like he’s got a secret.
“You need your electrolytes after last night.” He blinks and thinks it over.
“Wait. Does orange juice have electrolytes? Does anybody know?” Felix only shrugs, while Matteo nurses a cup of coffee—probably to hide his smile.
“Anyway, the point is, you two weren’t exactly quiet last night—and your scent smells suspiciously like Matteo’s.
Ah, well, best get the worst over with, first.”
Matteo glowers at his younger brother. “Watch it.”
Nico ignores him pointedly and says, “Don’t you worry, Noelle. Matteo might be our pack leader, but—”
Right then, Miranda walks into the kitchen and says loudly, “I really don’t want to hear whatever you’re going to say next, meathead.
” She hip-bumps her brother and then goes to pour herself some orange juice.
“Ooh, that smells delicious, Felix. I hope you made enough for your amazing sister?” She comes to sit next to me taking a swig from her glass as she watches Felix with hope in her eyes.
“Of course,” Felix says. “A hearty breakfast for everyone.”
Beside me, my best friend rolls her eyes. “Yeah, because we know why you guys need all the energy you can get.”
Nico narrows his eyes at her, though his expression is playful. “If we can’t reference it, why can you?”
“Because you’re alphas, and worse, you’re still boys, so you’re gross.” Miranda shrugs, as if that’s that, and based on the look the three alphas give her, I’d wager a guess that that’s not the first time she’s told them something like that.
“I take offense to the boys part,” Nico mutters. “The gross part? Probably true, sorry, Noelle.”
I can’t help but smile and take a sip from my orange juice. The siblings bicker a bit more, but soon enough breakfast is ready and it’s time to eat. Dippy eggs, perfectly crunchy toast, and all the bacon and sausage you could possibly want. I’m not used to eating this good.
You’d think we’re running late with how quickly everyone shovels the food into their mouths.
Seriously, the alphas wolf down their food, practically inhaling everything on their plates.
Miranda and I take our time in eating, then we wander upstairs to her room while the guys clean the kitchen and get it ready for our day of gingerbread house-making.
Is there a better word for that? I wouldn’t know, as I’ve never built one of those things before.
Miranda closes her door so we have some privacy, and soon enough we’re sitting cross-legged on her bed together.
My friend wrinkles her nose as she studies me.
“You know, even though I saw it coming from a mile away, I still can’t get over the fact that you smell like my brother now.
I can’t imagine how it’s going to be when you smell like all three of them put together. Yuck.”
I blush, but still I smile. “I think they smell good.”
“Course you do, they’re your mates. Unfortunately, they’re my brothers, so yuck for me.” Her amber eyes twinkle in amusement. “I am happy for you, though. You’ve moped around for them long enough. Time to take life by the balls—and by life, you know what I mean.”
I giggle.
“I hope he was respectful and all that crap… unless that’s not what you wanted, in which case—you know what? I’m going to stop that train of thought right there before it gets even ickier. You doing okay? I know it’s a huge change for you.”
It only takes me a moment to think about it, and there’s only one answer I can give her: “Yeah, I’m good. Great, even. For the first time in forever, I feel…”
How do I describe it without going into too much detail?
How do I tell her exactly how her brothers make me feel without sounding crazy?
Maybe that’s the whole point of this: love is crazy.
It doesn’t make sense. Unless someone else is in the exact same position, they’d never understand, no matter how you try to explain it.
So I settle for saying, “Calm.”
That single word gets my point across rather nicely, because her eyebrows lift and she repeats, “Calm? You? Hot damn, girl. Matteo must be magic or something, because in all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never described yourself as calm.
” She beams at me before she reaches for me and hugs me.
“I’m happy for you. I’m happy for the jerks, too, but mostly happy for you. ”
The hug ends, and I shake my head at her comment.
The bond between siblings is one I’m not familiar with.
I think she and her brothers get along, mostly, but it does seem like they’re always annoyed with each other, even when they’re in a good mood.
Must be a sibling thing. It’s not all lovey-dovey like it is between siblings on TV shows.
“Thanks,” I tell her. “I guess your meddling was a good thing.”
“Uh, yeah. Just call me Ms. Holiday.”
I laugh and roll my eyes at her—I can’t help it.
For years, I’ve heard all about this Mr. Holiday and his secret holiday shindigs.
Miranda has applied to go, but since she’s not an omega or an alpha, she’s always denied.
I’ve heard they’re next to impossible to get into.
No one does secrecy like that guy, whoever he is.
No one knows his real name or where he lives when he’s not busy orchestrating holiday get-togethers for alphas and omegas.
Many people have tried to bust down his work and come out with articles, blog posts, and reels, but none are ever substantial.
I don’t know. I’m not big into that stuff, not like Miranda.
“Now, girl,” she advises me, “you need to hop in the shower, because like hell am I going to be smelling this while we build gingerbread houses today.”
I can’t argue with her there. I suppose if I had a brother, I wouldn’t want to smell him on my best friend, either.
An hour and a half later, everybody is downstairs, in the kitchen.
We each have our own stations set up, far enough away from each other that we have room to work.
The guys are on the island, while Miranda and I take the counter on opposite sides of the stove top.
They’ve been doing this so long that they have it all down: they choose their own kits and bring them along, along with getting extra candy and frosting to really add some, to quote Nico, pizazz.
Thankfully, Miranda has my back when it comes to this gingerbread house business. She brought a kit for me, and all the extra candies I could possibly want. Vanilla frosting, chocolate frosting; I have my pick of it. We get our own utensils to work with so we’re not impeding anyone else’s houses.
I find it strange, at first, to be in such a silly competition, but as the time goes on, I actually start to have fun. It’s such a silly, trivial thing, building gingerbread houses, but the way the guys act—Nico, specifically—you’d think it’s a life or death situation.
And the insults? Oh, the insults are flying.
“Is that what you’re calling a window?” Nico asks after he glances at Felix’s in-progress house.
“The lines aren’t even straight! I should report you to the gumdrop builders guild—they’re very strict on their houses, you know.
That thing you’re building right now, bro?
There’s no salvaging it. It would get demolished—”
“Hey, stop looking at my house and focus on yours,” Felix huffs, grabbing a few brightly-colored candies and tossing them at his twin.