Isaac
Ilet myself into Cassidy’s house as quietly as I can, shrugging the front door closed behind me before toeing off my shoes. With her parents away, we’re spending the night here.
The familiar scent of Cassidy wraps around me almost immediately. Her sweet strawberry cream and soft vanilla musk loosen the tension I’m carrying.
Coming home to her feels… right.
The thought catches me off guard.
Shit.
It’s only been a few weeks, and yet, she already feels like home.
“Cass?” I call, hanging my coat on the hook by the door.
“I’m upstairs!”
There’s a brightness to her voice that drags a reluctant smile out of me despite the weight that’s been sitting in my chest all afternoon.
I climb the stairs, loosening my tie as I go. My shoulders ache from a day spent hunched over spreadsheets and reports, though if I’m honest, the phone call during lunch is doing far more damage than work ever could.
Cassidy appears in the doorway of her bedroom before I even reach the landing, her long honey brown hair tumbling loose over one shoulder.
“Hello!” she beams. “You’re finally here!”
She looks almost excited. Then her eyes dart behind me, and I tense, waiting for the disappointment.
“The others aren’t with you?”
And there it is.
Just another reminder that I’ll never be enough for her.
I rub the back of my neck. “Afraid not, shortcake. Ev’s stuck in a meeting. Harlan said he had a deadline to hit, and Silas is still on that shoot.”
Then she smiles even wider, her scent perfuming the corridor.
“So….” She clasps her hands together, bouncing on the heels of her feet. “It’s just us, then.”
Just us.
Just… us.
Something tight in my chest eases before I can stop it, and I’m tempted to rush forward, lift her into my arms, and hold her there until whatever made her smile at me never fades.
But I don’t want to push for anything. Not yet.
“I hope that’s all right,” I say. “I know you probably would’ve preferred one of the alphas.”
She blinks at me, her scent thickening with her confusion. “What?”
“I just—”
“Isa, that’s not true at all,” she says, and there’s a firm edge she never has. “I wanted whoever came home first.”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. She really means it.
Normally, I’d not doubt it, but today… I fucking hate the control my parents still have over me.
“Oh!” She steps aside into the corridor, a concerned look on her face, one hand still resting on the doorframe. “Have you eaten?”
“Not yet.”
“I thought not.” She nods decisively. “I can make us some pasta.”
I laugh. “I’m okay, shortcake. We can do some food in a little while, if that’s okay?”
“What about some tea, then?” she asks. “Or a hot chocolate?”
Before I can respond, she’s already bustling past me, wrapping her arm through mine, her scent glands brushing my sleeve as she leads me towards the stairs.
“I can make—” I start.
“Nope,” she says brightly. “I get to be the one to make it today. Especially after Van’s warnings of your tea.”
I scoff. “I’m perfectly capable of—”
“I know.” She throws me a look over her shoulder, leading me down the passage. “Sit down and let me do something for you, okay?”
I slide onto the stool, not because she ordered me to but because she sounds so pleased to be looking after someone for once.
I can’t deny her anything.
Not when she looks so happy looking after me.
She pops the kettle on and grabs two mugs from a cupboard above it, humming cheerfully under her breath as the kitchen fills with the familiar click of cupboards and the rush of running water.
I’m content to just watch her be herself. She doesn’t even realise she’s making the whole house feel lighter.
She drops the tea bags into the mugs and slides over to the fridge to grab the milk. My heart is in my throat when she stumbles, but she just laughs and rights herself.
I’m sitting here with a storm cloud hanging over me, and she’s just… happy.
I shouldn’t have come to ruin her night.
“Here you go,” she says, putting a purple pot in front of me. “It’s the last one, and I know you ate the last five.”
I frown at the chocolate pudding in front of me, and she places a teaspoon next to it.
I stare at it. “I… have?”
“Mhm.” She shrugs, moving to spoon some sugar into our mugs. “I’ve added more to the grocery list for you.”
“I didn’t realise.”
“I did,” she says simply.
She did.
She noticed something and isn’t expecting anything in return.
Something twists beneath my ribs. I’ve always been the one who notices.
The one remembering favourite drinks, preferred mugs, birthdays, coffee orders, the way people take criticism, the signs they’re having a bad day before they say a word.
Nobody has ever done it for me. Not really.
“Are you cold?” she asks, and I shake my head.
“Why?”
“You’ve still got your jacket on. I wasn’t sure if you wanted the heating put on higher,” she says. “We’re approaching winter, you know.”
I sneer at her teasingly. “Really? I never would’ve known if it weren’t for you. Thanks, shortcake.”
With a quiet huff of amusement, I shrug it off, warmth already creeping back into my limbs.
Or maybe it isn’t the house that’s warming me.
Maybe it’s her.
She sticks her tongue out as the kettle reaches a full boil.
“You’re a menace,” she says. I watch her pour our water into the mugs before adding a lot of milk to hers, and a dash of it to mine, just how I like.
Cassidy sets the mug in front of me before putting the milk back, steam curling between us.
“Want to take these upstairs?” she asks. “I’m not going to lie, but I’ve been huddled in my nest since I got home. You might not have realised it was winter—”
“I knew it was winter,” I say, affronted, and she smirks at me.
Fuck, she’s adorable.
“Mhm, if you say so. But I’m an omega, and I need at least seven blankets in winter, so…”
“Let’s go upstairs, then, shortcake.”
She beams at me, grabbing my mug and hers, before practically dancing out of the kitchen. I grab my pudding and follow after her, holding in the urge to take the mugs from her in case she burns herself.
She’s in such a cheerful mood, I don’t want to do anything to ruin it.
I don’t want to lose what this feels like. Someone noticing me first.
Cassidy nudges open her bedroom door with her hip, balancing both mugs in one hand with an ease that makes my stomach lurch.
“Careful,” I mutter automatically, my protective instincts prickling as she balances both mugs.
“I am being careful.”
“You nearly slid on your bum downstairs.”
She gives me a look of horror. “Traitor. I recovered.”
“You stumbled, and if it wasn’t for the fridge catching you, you’d have fallen.”
“I stumbled gracefully.”
I snort, following her inside.
The familiar scent of her nest settles over me before I even cross the threshold, rich enough that my shoulders loosen on instinct. Strawberry cream, vanilla, soft cotton, the faint lingering black tea from Silas, and underneath it all, Cassidy herself.
Fuck, I could spend the rest of my life in this room.
She places the mugs on the drawers at the bottom of her bed before crawling over to where her nest is.
She kneels beside her laptop, where it’s already sitting open amongst the mountain of blankets, tucking one oversized cushion behind her before shifting another aside to make room for me.
“You can sit there,” she says, patting the space next to her. “Once you’ve eaten.”
I laugh, completely obsessed with my little mate. I thought the changes in her confidence after we finally made things official were huge.
And it was. But since she bonded with Evander on Saturday, she’s practically a different person.
More confident. More at ease around us. And she’s doing her best to be more vocal about her needs.
It’s amazing watching her settle into herself.
We’re helping her.
Finally.
I eat my chocolate pudding quickly, whilst she gets into work, and pop it in her bedroom bin once I’m done.
I settle onto the edge of her nest, careful not to disturb the meticulous arrangement she’s likely spent weeks perfecting.
The blankets sink beneath my weight, warm enough that I immediately understand why she’d refused to leave them, and I make my way over to where she’s nestled.
I smirk when I spot one of my jumpers, and I swear, the pair of boxers peeking out to her right are Harlan’s.
Little thief.
“Told you,” she says, wriggling further underneath one of the thicker throws. “Winter has arrived, Isa, and we’ve got to be prepared.”
“I’ll concede that perhaps seven blankets has some merit,” I offer. “Although, if I die from heat stroke, please bury me somewhere cold.”
She gasps. “I’d then be cold.”
I burst out laughing before she gasps again. “Wait, oh, my goodness, no, no, no, no. That is not my complaint. I meant I do not want you to die!”
My cackles get louder as she stares at me, crestfallen, for being so selfish.
Knowing Cassidy, she’s genuinely worried I think she’s selfish.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, sniffling. “I’m a horrible—”
“Don’t,” I cut her off, my laughter dying with her sadness. “I knew exactly what you meant, strawberry shortcake. Don’t panic, okay?”
She nods, sniffling a little, her scent already beginning to sweeten again. “I love you, Isa.”
“As I love you.” I lean in, brushing a gentle kiss to her soft lips. “Are you okay if I bring my laptop in here, too?”
She nods. “I love that you ask. Yes, please do. Then we can stay here and hermit forever.”
I grin as she goes back to her laptop, getting absorbed in her work within seconds.
I have no idea what she’s doing, other than something related to her job.
There are too many tabs open, and not enough context on the multiple pages of images.
She clicks through them with surprising confidence, occasionally making tiny humming noises under her breath whenever she approves of something.
I open my own laptop beside her, pulling up the report I’d promised Evander I’d clean up for him.
Numbers.
Forecasts.
Risk assessments.
Normally, they’d settle my mind. Today, not so much. It’s ridiculous how much hold my mother still has on me. One bloody phone call, and I’m right back there.