Chapter 29
My palms sweat as I linger in my car, staring at the brick front townhouse while I work up the nerve to go inside.
I would’ve texted Ambrose to see if he could sneak outside with my keys, but if Camille happened to see the message, it would make me look like I’m avoiding her.
Which, to be fair, I am. Not because I don’t want to see her, but because tonight is Ambrose’s time to be with her.
Who knows what they’re up to in there? Ambrose is keeping his end of the bond closed, so for all I know they could be in the middle of having sex in the living room when I go inside.
My dick perks up a little at the thought, but I shake it away. I’ll go in, say hi, explain that I forgot my keys to the apartment like a supreme dumbass, and then head back out. It doesn’t have to be a big deal if I don’t make it one.
Even after thinking it through, it takes me another five minutes to actually open the car door and get out.
Then another minute as I stand outside the front door like an absolute creep, trying to listen for noises indicating that Ambrose and Camille are currently indisposed.
When a neighbor walks by and asks if I’m locked out, I take that as my cue to stop being a weirdo and go inside and get it over with.
When I step into the entryway, I make a show of rustling around and bumping into things to warn them that I’m here. There are no immediate gasps of alarm, just the sound of a movie and soft conversation. I approach the living room, needing to go past it to get to where my keys are.
The sight I find when the room comes into view arrests me, my chest constricting.
They’re sitting on the couch, Camille’s legs draped across Ambrose’s lap, as they watch some movie on the screen.
He stops stroking her leg, fingers gripping the plush flesh of her thigh as they both turn to look at me.
Camille’s eyes widen, and she sits up, yanking her legs off of Ambrose like I caught her doing something scandalous.
I grimace at her reaction. This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. I didn’t want to storm in and interrupt her respite. We’re slowly building something between us during our lessons to help her resist alpha barks, but the tension is still there.
Ambrose, on the other hand, looks delighted to see me. Sweet, wonderful man.
“Hey, sorry to disrupt you, I forgot the keys to my apartment. They’re in the kitchen, so I’m going to come in real quick and grab them, and then I’ll head back out again. Please ignore me.”
I stride toward the hook on the side of the fridge where the keys are, on a mission to get them and get out as quickly as possible. Which is why I don’t notice that Camille has joined me in the kitchen, almost bumping into her as I turn on my heel to head back out.
“Shit, sorry, am I in your way?” I ask, stepping to the side to give her access to the refrigerator.
“You’re fine,” she says, eyes falling to the keys in my hand and then focusing back up on my face.
We stand there staring at each other for a long, awkward moment.
“I should—”
“Do you need to finish packing up tonight?” Camille asks right after I begin to speak.
“Uh, not tonight, just sometime in the next few weeks.”
She nods. Another silence stretches out, and this time I can tell through my one-sided bond with her that she’s nervous, and trying to work up to saying something. I don’t move or speak, giving her the space to say whatever she’s thinking about.
“You could stay. If you want to. Ambrose has enough snacks to feed an army, and we’re only about fifteen minutes into the movie.”
I blink back at her, then shake my head. “Oh, no, I shouldn’t. I don’t want to get in the way.”
There’s a flicker of dejection from Camille, and for a moment I think that’s the end of that conversation.
“You shouldn’t or you don’t want to?”
Again, my reply is instantaneous. “I want to.”
A smile curves her plush lips, and my eyes drop to them, heart hammering in my chest. She’s so beautiful, especially when she smiles.
“Okay, then you should stay.”
“But what about your time with Ambrose? I want you to have space to be with him, without worrying about all of my… nonsense.”
She snorts, turning toward the living room where Ambrose is pointedly looking at the screen even though the movie is paused, pretending like he’s not eavesdropping on our conversation. “You don’t mind if River joins us, do you?”
The smile that stretches across my mate’s lips would make me fall for him if I weren’t already deeply and completely in love with him. “Not at all.”
I reach into both of my bonds with them, attempting to find any sign that they’re being polite or feel bad for me, but if anything, they both seem pleased.
“Alright. If you insist.”
“I do.” Camille reaches out and eases the keys from grip, setting them back on the hook. She inclines her head toward the living room. “I hope you like rom-coms.”
I nod, swallowing down the lump of emotion forming in my throat at their easy inclusion of me. I couldn’t care less about what they’re watching. It could be one of those cult documentaries that always hit too close to home, and I wouldn’t mind. All that matters is they want me here with them.
Ambrose slides over to one end of the couch as we join him in the living room, making room for us. Camille takes a seat at the other end. My brow furrows as I look between them, then at the space they’ve left for me right in the middle. My mate raises a brow at me when I hover in front of the sofa.
“If you’re going to stand there blocking the screen, at least do something entertaining,” Camille teases.
My cheeks heat. “Sorry.” I sit down between them, unsure what to do with my arms or my legs. Confused as hell why I’m the one that’s sandwiched between them when tonight is meant to be a courting date for Camille.
Ambrose slides closer, leaning in to kiss my cheek. His citrusy, herbal scent soothes my nerves, but his hand on my thigh has my blood heating. I don’t think he means anything by it, but tell that to my dick that’s about to embarrass me if I get any harder.
“Relax,” he murmurs, his breath tickling my skin.
I nod and sit back, and the couch shifts as Camille inches closer. Her approach is more hesitant than Ambrose’s. She waits to catch my eye before closing the rest of the distance between us, her thigh resting against mine.
I swallow heavily as her scent swirls with Ambrose’s, making it difficult for me to think. How did this go from me interrupting their date, to me being pressed between two of the people I’m utterly obsessed with and them wanting me between them?
It doesn’t make sense. I’ve always been the obstacle. The person getting in the way of their peace and ease. Why are they being so nice? Why are they acting as if it’s a natural place for me to be?
“River.” Camille’s voice jars me out of my spiraling thoughts. I snap my head over to look at her, finding a furrow on her brow as she takes in my rising distress. “What can I do to make this more comfortable for you? Do you not want me to touch you?”
“No!” I blurt out as hurt rises in her bond. “Shit, sorry I’m being so weird. I wasn’t expecting this, and I don’t know why you’re being so nice, and I’m fucking it up.”
Ambrose’s hand squeezes my thigh. “Take a deep breath for me, love.”
I look over at him, doing as he asks. My exhale is shaky. I don’t understand why this is making me freak out. I want to be with them. It’s all I think about. Well, Jackson is there too in most of those fantasies, but still. I want this.
My mate nods, compassion flooding in through his end of the bond. “Good.”
I breathe in again, using his kind, storm-gray eyes to anchor me as I often have when I’m overwhelmed. Except, this time I also have Camille’s hand on my arm and her hesitant purr. Together, they melt away the worry, releasing the tension in my spine and quieting my agitated thoughts.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
Ambrose pats my thigh and leans in to kiss my cheek. “Of course, love. Thank you for letting us help.”
Camille pulls her hand back, and I turn to her as I feel the swell of affection through her bond. “It’s amazing how good he is at calming us down. Makes me think he has some kind of soothing alpha magic.”
I smile. “Oh, he definitely does. But you’re pretty magical too, Camille.”
Her cheeks burnish. She’s pleased with the compliment, and a little taken aback. It makes me want to tell her all the ways she’s amazing.
“I feel a little bad about it. Selfish,” Camille says. She’s still smiling, which makes her statement all the more confusing.
“About being magical?”
She giggles and shakes her head. “No, about Ambrose always being the one to take care of us.”
Ambrose frowns. “I want to take care of you. I thought you already understood that, sweetheart.” There’s a hint of heat in his words, and the way his eyes drag over her body makes her perfume rise in the air.
I’m caught in the crossfire of the moment, and rather than feeling jealous or excluded, it makes my alpha want to purr. Their flirting is hot as fuck.
“I know you do, but you need to be taken care of sometimes, too.”
Ambrose’s cheeks flush at her words, his eyes connecting with mine. I can tell he’s thinking of just how good I am at taking care of him. How thorough I am at getting him out of his head and giving him the ability to let go.
Camille’s gaze bounces between the two of us, and her tongue darts out to wet her lips. Her breathing grows shallow, and her perfume is thick enough that I can almost taste it.
She likes thinking about me taking care of him.
“You don’t have to worry about that,” I rasp.
“Yeah?” She hesitates before speaking again. “How do you take care of him?”
My cock swells to full mast, and Ambrose’s breath hitches.
Is this really happening? Is she asking what I think she is?
“Do you want us to demonstrate?” I ask evenly.
Her flush spreads down to her throat. “I… I don’t want to make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”
I reach down and unsubtly adjust myself. “Do I look uncomfortable to you?” I glance down at where Ambrose has thickened, the bar of his erection pressing against his pants. “Do either of us look uncomfortable?”
Camille smiles, the expression both shy and heated. “No. You don’t.”
“Will it make you uncomfortable to see how I take care of my toy?”
I need to be certain that she understands what she’s asking for. I’ll happily put on a show for Camille, my alpha already eager to prove how good I am at giving Ambrose what he needs. To prove to her that I could do the same for her, if she wanted.
Ambrose groans, the sound needy and slightly embarrassed, which I know is something he enjoys. He wants her to see this as badly as I want to show her.
Camille nods. “I want to know. Show me.”
“Ask politely, omega.” The words are out of me before I can stop them.
Her eyes flare, and I think I’ve ruined things, but then she lowers her gaze demurely. “Please. Please show me.”