Chapter 40 Nash
FORTY
Nash
Delilah’s emotions come off her in waves. For a man who isn’t very emotional, the experience is humbling.
When she confronted Jagger in the backyard, I felt a piping-hot wave of anger mingled with frustration, hurt, disappointment, and… love. I didn’t think it was possible to feel so much at once.
Perhaps a purpose of alphas and omegas sharing their emotions is to help clueless guys like me try to understand a woman’s emotions.
It’s been less than a day, and I’ve already learned so much about how she processes things.
It must be exhausting to feel so much at any one time, giving me so much more admiration for the woman I now love and for women everywhere.
“I’m gonna ask all the Stellas to meet me at the house,” Delilah tells me while texting. She’s excited yet also filled with trepidation. “I’d like to tell them all together, face-to-face.”
Nerves buzz under my skin. “How do you think they’ll take it?”
“No need to be nervous.” She pats my knee. “I mean, you’re not Jagger, so I think they’ll be okay.” Her eyes narrow as she scrolls through her social media feed. “Have you seen what people are saying online? Jagger’s statement is everywhere.”
She reels off a few headlines:
“PACK FIRE’D—JAGGER IS OUT!
PACK FIRE—UP IN FLAMES!
JAGGER SETS PACK FIRE ALIGHT.”
“This is why I’m not on social media.” While Tae and Jagger waste their time on it, I’m too busy plastering walls or building furniture.
I’ve never seen the point of living out your life online.
The one time I tried it, all I saw were people from my high school sharing photos of their breakfasts.
Since when is avocado on toast interesting?
“It’ll blow over when the next big story comes along. ”
“Some people think he’s been kidnapped or his account’s been hacked. Others are just… really brutal.” She swipes violently across the screen. “People are even dressing in black in mourning. That’s ridiculous.”
“Don’t read it.” I put an arm behind her headrest. “Those people don’t know him. Not the real him anyway.”
“I know you’re right, but still…” She exhales deeply, causing one of her little curls to fly up in the air. “He’s a real person with feelings. They’re acting like they own him.”
“That’s why he thought he was protecting you by leaving the first time.
” In response to my reminder, I’m hit by anger rippling through the bond—a sharp, prickly heat sheeting my skin.
“You know I don’t agree with what he did, but I can see why he wouldn’t want to bring you into it.
When I first met him, he was a trainwreck. ”
I think back to the shell of a man I met a year ago.
I’d been fixing the plumbing in his penthouse the first time we encountered one another.
He and Tae met first, in the coffee shop Tae worked in.
When Jagger complained about a leaky pipe and not being able to find a plumber who respected his privacy, Tae referred him to me.
Our connection was instant. The first time we talked, it felt like I’d known him for years, and a part of him reminded me of Robbie.
Although he had a carefree attitude, the rows of empty liquor bottles lining his counters and tables told me he was drowning.
Plus, I had this overwhelming feeling that we could help him, Tae and I. And look at us now.
“He hasn’t spoken to me much about the last year.” She drops her phone into her lap. “I know it was hard on him. It was hard for me, but it seemed—from what I heard anyway—that he was off touring and living his best life.”
“Far from it,” I mumble darkly. “Until we came here, he wasn’t truly happy. And that’s because of you.”
“I get that our bonding is tough on him.” She sighs. “It’s not that I don’t want to bond with him either. I… I just need the timing to be right.”
“And it will be.” I lightly massage the back of her neck. “You’ll work it out.”
She smiles at me, her anxiety lessening, as we approach the OV gates. I roll down the window as Margie’s head pops up to greet us. The woman practically lives here, and she guards the SVU omegas with her life.
“You know I can’t let you in OV again, Nash,” she tsks. “I told you last time that it was your—”
“I’m hoping you can make one more exception.” I tilt my head so she can see my new mark.
“Oh my!” She gasps, her hands darting to her mouth. “You’re bonded?!”
“You’re the first person we’ve told.” Delilah beams at her.
“I knew it!” She slaps her knee. “Since you told me about reading your horoscope daily, I’ve started reading mine—tickle me pink—and it said that I’d get a good piece of news today! This must be it!” Her eyes well up. “I guess this means you won’t be living in Omega Village for much longer?”
We haven’t even spoken about what’s going to happen next. Living arrangements are probably something we should have discussed before I decided to bite her and claim her as mine for the rest of our lives, but Delilah doesn’t seem alarmed by this. Her calmness rubs off on me.
“I’m just here to pick up a few things for the next few days,” Delilah brightly breezes over Margie’s question. “Can you make one more exception for us?” She bats her eyelashes. “Pretty please with a cherry on top?”
Margie swipes at her tears. “After all the things you’ve baked me and our lovely chats over the last few years, I’ll make one final exception for you.
” She holds up her index finger. “I know it’s not good for mates to separate so soon after a bonding, but I do have one condition.
I would like to meet the rest of your pack one day, Delilah. ”
“You’ve already met one of them.”
“The cutie who loves chai lattes with the flowers? I knew it!” Swooning, she clutches her chest. “If I were thirty years younger.” She winks. “You’re lucky to have her, Nash. You won’t find a kinder one than our Delilah.”
“I know.” I smile at my beautiful omega, sharing Margie’s thoughts.
“Anyway!” Margie straightens. “I can’t stand around chatting all day.
I have a mess to sort. Did you know that there’s an ongoing rivalry between Barbara and Persephone House?
Apparently, toilet paper was involved this time.
” She massages her temples. “Sometimes I think I’m getting too old for this.
” She continues to mumble to herself as she retreats to her post to open the gates for us.
Delilah is entertaining me with a story about Margie when we come to a stop outside Stella House moments later.
“Do you mind staying in the car?” she asks when I reach for the door handle. “I’m happy you’re here, it’s just… I’d rather tell the girls myself.”
I cross my arms, a low rumble coming from my chest. Right now, I hate that we’re not cozied up in the safety of a nest. The distance between us—even just sitting in the car—feels like a physical tug on my heartstrings.
As if she can read my mind, she leans to kiss me, providing all the reassurance I need. “I’ll be quick. I promise.”
“Good,” I grumble. “I’ll be right here waiting.”
She grins. “I know you will be.”
Where else would I be?