Chapter 59
The tableau upstairs makes me laugh so hard, I think I’m gonna choke to death on this damned sandwich.
It wasn’t bad, not hot, but dry as fuck.
Why the hell didn’t they have any dressing or anything on it?
Oh well, the last bite gets stuck sideways as I take in Alistair’s angry expression and the three faces now sticking out of the nest. Spence is red-faced and blushing like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t—but knowing him, it’s just that our packmate mentioned sex.
The poor guy blushes about everything; he’s easily embarrassed by things like that.
The big beta beside him is grinning as if this is the funniest situation he’s seen in a while, and it might be.
The guy seems to dote on his little mate, but when he doesn’t think anyone’s watching him, he looks sad.
Not unlike Alistair, though I’m still working on teasing all of his secrets out, but this guy isn’t part of my pack.
As long as it’s nothing that’ll come back and bite us in the ass, he can keep them.
Then there’s the omega. Her head turns, trying to take us all in at once, but she seems happy to be here, smiling fondly at the two big guys she’s sandwiched between.
She’s so damned tiny, just standing beside those two, her head only coming to nipple-high on Spence.
I’ve been so wrapped up in my own mind recently that I didn’t realize how pretty she is.
Omegas generally are, true, but her big brown eyes and soft smile belie a fierce nature that lurks under the surface.
I’ve always been decent at reading people, and she shares some of the same sadness that her beta has, though hers is masked more by the outgoing personality she puts forward.
My chest aches with the need to wipe away the underlying sadness I’ve noticed since we first met, and I don’t know if it’s because Spence is already so attached and I need to take care of him and her as an extension, or if it’s something else.
Maybe just an alpha need to take care and dote on an omega.
She’s not mine, and she’ll never be my scent match like Elaine was, but I still feel a deep pull to make sure she’s ok.
Alistair huffs at the three of them, his look of irritation replaced with puzzlement as he stares for a moment too long.
Maybe he also feels that it’s right for them to be in our space, in the nest at our home.
Still, I don’t want to ask and risk ruining the moment.
Regardless of my desire, I’m hit with a sudden wave of strawberry shortcake-scented perfume that makes me groan along with both my packmates.
It wasn’t this strong in the store a few days ago; still sweet, but it didn’t call to me like it does now.
Once again, I’m unsure if that’s because she’s in our space and our nest, a place that is so achingly omega that I wonder, not for the first time, why Spence has been so intent on fixing it up.
Her voice is soft and slightly pained, her face a dark pink, as sweat blooms on her forehead. “I’m…I’m sorry, guys. I don’t…holy shit. I think I need to go back to Sam’s and take a cool shower or something.” She wobbles on her feet and Greg scoops her up even as Spence is reaching for her himself.
The beta’s voice fills with concern. “You ok, Shor—Sarah? Is it another spike? Do I need to get us over to the hotel for your heat?” He brushes her hair back from her forehead before pressing his cheek to it.
“You don’t feel as hot this time, but I don’t want to take any chances if you think it might be starting for real.
” Spence is leaning from foot to foot, arms slightly raised like he wants to help but doesn’t know what to do, and the little omega just smiles at him before turning all her attention to Greg.
“No…no, I think it’s just another spike.
It’ll probably go away soon, just like at the store a few days ago.
I’ll…ow…fucking fuck those cramps hurt. Can you just help me get outside into the fresh air for a minute?
Just see if that helps clear my head up a bit.
I don’t want to go to the heat suite if I don’t have to.
Once you check in, you have to pay for all five days, even if it’s a false alarm, and I’d like to avoid the cost if possible.
Besides, my heat’s not supposed to be till next month.
You know my schedule’s jacked up, but there’s no way it should be a month early.
” She sighs, as if talking has worn her out, and presses her face against his chest, taking a deep breath of her scent-matched beta.
Something about her vulnerability calls to me the way her usual exuberance doesn’t. She’s been appealing since I first saw her, but the quiet, softer side makes my alpha ache to fix what’s wrong, to help her feel better.
Not specifically sex, though if this is a heat spike, that would be the immediate solution.
Instead, I want to take care of her, bundle her up in the blankets still sealed up in the nest, and purr for her until she feels better.
Find out and cook her favorite food, so she’s full and happy, and asleep in my arms, content.
Spence is right in saying that she’s in good shape.
Her body is toned and muscular, attractive in the way that a sculpture is, with beautiful angles and well-defined anatomy, but she’s so small, and lacking the padding that’s usual for omegas.
Sudden worry nags at my mind that she isn’t eating enough.
Her beta is taking care of her as best he can, but they probably don’t have a good kitchen in her dorm, and while cafeteria food isn’t a bad option, nothing beats a home-cooked meal.
My own chest rumbles with a sensation I haven’t felt in years, a deep-seated need to take care of her. It takes effort to stop my hand from reaching out to touch her as my rusty sounding purr rattles to life.
Her face turns to me from where it’s pressed against Greg, a soft smile on her lips.
“Oh, that’s nice. Not as good as Greg’s guitar, but I can totally see being the filling in an alpha sandwich if it involved purring.
” She giggles quietly for a moment as her eyes drift closed and she snuggles tighter against him.
Thankfully, instead of being offended or acting put out, Greg just smiles at her and scooches closer, and I don’t try to stop the involuntary movement of my body as I step forward and finally allow my fingers to settle in her hair, stroking the raven strands back from her forehead.
She lets out a soft humming noise and her face follows the movement like a flower follows the sun.
“She’s like a cat. Sorry, I’ve never seen her this relaxed. But she is still a bit warm.” Greg’s voice is quiet, almost as if he’s trying not to wake her up, though I don’t think she fell asleep, just got really snuggly.
This is confirmed a moment later when she cracks open one eye.
“Seriously, guys. I didn’t conk out on you.
I’m just resting my eyes. It’s probably just jet lag, or hormones, or whatever the hell is causing the heat spikes.
My body is being wonky like it’s trying to rest up in preparation for a few days of no sleep…
but I’m fine. I’ll be fine. No stress, ok?
” Even Alistair’s gaze is softer as he looks over at her.
Whether he also feels the need to take care of her, or he just prefers the quieter version, I can’t say.
Still, I resist the urge to dote; she isn’t ours, and in a few days, she’ll be gone.
That hurts more to think about now than I like to admit.
Maybe I like the idea of her being around, or being able to cook for somebody other than these two, of having someone to actually take care of—of her strawberry shortcake scent in our house—more than I let on.
Maybe it doesn’t matter, because she’ll be leaving, and I can’t be nursing another broken heart if I’m busy holding Spence together.