Chapter 20
ASH
Ash woke up to Spencer and Ryder’s low murmurs.
“—still scent him.”
“Yeah. I think it stuck this time.”
Ash’s pheromones, they meant. They hadn’t disappeared after the heat.
It wasn’t a shock to hear—Ash already knew.
He wasn’t sure how he knew, other than a feeling somewhere deep inside.
For the first time in the past few months, his body felt …
settled. Ash was fucking exhausted, too, there was no mistaking that, his muscles worn out in ways preheat Ash couldn’t have imagined.
But he didn’t feel like he was going to crawl out of his skin or burst into tears or whatever.
And he could smell them, his alphas, and not in the faint way he’d gotten used to recently. He could scent each of them distinctly, that they were close and that they were calm, their pheromones mellowed out from the richness of heat-induced arousal.
Ash could also smell the nest they’d made in all its …
glory. It should have been disgusting, considering what those scents were made of, but it wasn’t.
It was weirdly soothing, like a reminder that even if Ash was hungry and thirsty and so tired he could barely move his limbs, he was also safe.
Everything had happened exactly the way it should have, with exactly who he’d wanted it to happen with.
There were more murmurs, talk of breakfast and letting him sleep. Ash waited until they’d left and the room was empty to sit up and stretch. He wasn’t avoiding Ryder or Spencer, exactly, but he needed a minute to himself.
Because Ash was an omega now, fully and permanently.
It had happened, and it hadn’t even taken the whole year he’d been dreading.
Which was halfway great, seeing as how he felt more like himself than he had in months.
But it also meant he was going to be out, officially.
Which—Ash remembered with a horrible flash of mortification—he already was.
Because he’d gone into heat in front of everyone, and he’d made out with Spencer while he’d been at it.
Should have left the party when you had a fucking chance.
Well, too late to regret it now. Ash ignored the way his belly swooped with embarrassment and stood up, heading on shaky legs to the shower. He’d deal with all that mess later. Hopefully much, much later. For now, he needed to wash the crust off his skin. Then, food.
Ash kept the shower quick, a necessity with how dizzy he got under the hot spray.
He probably should have chugged water first, but he’d been buzzing with the need to be a little less saturated.
Alpha cum and omega slick were all well and good during a heat, but Ash didn’t want to be covered with them on the daily.
A flash of memory ran through him without warning. Slick skin and hot suction, the delicious thick press of a shaft inside him, stretching him to his limits.
Ash’s blood heated in a way he’d rarely felt outside of his new heats, although his dick was too spent to even twitch. Okay, it was possible he did want to be covered it those things on the daily—and that was another thing to process later—but he reserved the right to bathe afterward.
Ash stepped out of the shower to find clean clothes on the counter, as well as a beautiful, blessed water bottle. Someone must have been in and out without him hearing the door open or close. He dressed quickly, stealing gulps of ridiculously satisfying water in between donning pieces of clothing.
He found Spencer and Ryder in the kitchen, deep in the process of making breakfast. Omelets, from the look of it. And bacon this time.
Neither seemed surprised to see Ash awake, which made sense considering the clothing delivery. From the scent of it, they’d both been up for a while, at least long enough to have taken showers of their own. No one reeked of sex, at the very least.
“What day is it?” Ash asked, the question coming out in a hoarse croak. Too much fucking moaning wasn’t good for the throat, apparently.
“Tuesday morning,” Ryder answered, stepping in quickly to run a hand over Ash’s neck, scent marking his fresh skin.
“That long?” It had been Saturday when his heat had started, hadn’t it?
“I told you, spitfire. Your heats have something against Monday classes.”
Ash cocked his head. Spencer was making his jokes, but there was none of the usual lightness in his voice. He wasn’t dancing around the kitchen, either, or making comments about macros. He was fully clothed and hunched over the stove, plating the last omelet without meeting Ash’s gaze directly.
Ryder glanced between the two of them, his expression unreadable. “Sit,” he said after a moment. “You need to eat.”
Ash didn’t bother arguing. His body felt heavy and light at the same time, like it couldn’t decide between crashing to the floor and floating up to the ceiling. Food was very, very necessary.
“I’m an omega now.” He didn’t know why he said it, other than that it seemed like the kind of thing to say out loud. And because maybe he wanted Spencer to turn around.
“We know,” Ryder told him, placing a plate piled high with bacon directly in front of Ash, because he was the best person in the whole fucking world. “You smell like it. Sweet, but without the char of your heat. We should make an appointment at the clinic for this afternoon.”
Ash shoved a piece of bacon in his mouth as Ryder sat down next to him. He turned back toward Spencer. “You’ll come?”
Spencer didn’t make a teasing comment about Ash talking with his mouth full. He only cleared his throat and brought the omelets to the table. “I don’t know. Noah—”
Ash grunted in dismissal. “I’ll deal with him later.”
Spencer sat down at the table across from Ryder and Ash, but he still wouldn’t meet Ash’s eye. What was with him this morning? Had he had a bad time during the heat? The very thought sent Ash’s stomach plummeting.
But not as much as Spencer’s next words.
“Noah wants to talk to you as soon as your heat’s over. So, like, now.”
Ash swallowed his bacon, the edges jagged in his throat. “Then we won’t tell him it’s over yet.”
Now Spencer did look at Ash, and it was impossible to miss the flash of guilt that crossed his face. “He already knows.”
Ash slapped a hand on the table before he could stop himself. “What?”
Spencer winced. “I’m sorry. I had to.”
“It’s not your—”
Spencer cut him off before he could finish. “Ash, it’s not your secret anymore, either, because he already knows. And he—he was really worried. What happened at the party freaked him the fuck out, and I don’t blame him. And he’s your brother, and he fucking loves you. Just talk to him. Please.”
So this was what it was like when Spencer stopped going with the flow and stood his ground. And he was doing it for Noah, because in the end, Spencer was sweet and he was loyal, and Ash had finally pushed him too fucking far.
Ash was almost proud of him, except for the big part of him that fucking hated it. This morning was supposed to be about the three of them, about how they could all fit together now that Ash’s mess was settled.
Except not all of Ash’s mess was settled, was it?
Ash let out a long breath. “Is he already on his way?”
Spencer nodded bleakly. Ryder didn’t look surprised at the news, meaning he’d already known. Sneaky asshole.
Ash stabbed at his omelet with his fork. “Well, let’s fucking eat, then.”
Ash had barely finished his last bite when there was a knock on the apartment door. He glared in Spencer’s direction, but the alpha was avoiding his gaze yet again as he cleared the dishes.
It was so different from how things had been just a few hours before, the three of them all wrapped together, skin pressed and limbs tangled, taking and receiving comfort from one another’s bodies.
Ash had the cowardly urge to drag them all back to the nest and hide under the filthy covers until the rest of the world went away and they could square things between each other.
But that was how Ash had brought this situation on himself in the first place: by delaying over and over. He needed to suck it up and take care of it. No more steamrolling or avoiding.
Another knock, louder this time. Ash shared a look with Ryder. There was sympathy in Ryder’s dark eyes, but also something that said, Take care of it, bright eyes.
Ash sighed. “I’ve got it.”
And yes, there was Noah at the front door, tall and broad and—Ash sniffed the air—smelling like salt and sea air.
Ash had never smelled his brother’s pheromones before.
Not once. Ash had been scent marked plenty as a kid, sure, by his brothers and his parents both, but he’d never known what the scents actually were.
He blinked, his eyes suddenly dry and hot, whatever he’d been about to say lost. “You smell like the ocean.”
The deep frown Noah had been wearing dissolved into a dazed sort of smile. “Yeah.” He stepped closer and breathed in. “And you smell sweet. Like …”
“Like an omega,” Ash finished.
“Yeah.”
Ash shrugged, suddenly awkward again. “Guilty.”
He stepped back into the apartment, and Noah followed. Ash shut the door behind them. Noah ran a hand through his blond curls, fidgety in a way that meant he was just as uncomfortable as Ash was. “I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.”
Well, straight to the fucking point, then. Ash shrugged again. “I needed time.”
“But I would’ve—” Noah stopped mid-sentence, glaring at something past Ash’s shoulder. Ash turned to find Spencer in the kitchen doorway. “I’m not talking to you,” Noah growled.
Spencer couldn’t have looked more like a kicked puppy if he tried. “Noah, I—”
“I’m not fucking talking to you.”
Ash had never heard his brother sound so harsh. He whirled on him. “Hey—”
But the damage was done, and Spencer was already heading out the front door before Ash could stop him, Ash’s grasping fingers clutching only air.
“Spencer, stay!” Ash called. “Please.” But it was too late.