Chapter 72
Iwish I had been here when she got home…well, our home. Maybe she’ll want it as hers too. I mean, a guy can dream. Right?
The whole house is filled with her strawberry shortcake scent, and I’m worried I’ll make her uncomfortable if I can’t get my stupid purr under control.
It started as soon as I walked in, and the damned thing just won’t stop.
As much as I want to go upstairs and see what she needs, I’m currently hiding out in the kitchen, rearranging the cabinets…
again…any excuse not to embarrass myself.
The fact that she’s even giving us this opportunity is mind-blowing, but it’s not like she would ask us to join her heat if she wasn’t at least considering our pack for something permanent, right?
That is, of course, if she and Al can reconcile.
She told Paul she wanted all of us, but not to force anybody.
She knows Al has an issue with omegas and doesn’t want him to feel obligated to join.
Going out of her way to say that Al can let us know what he wants and feels most secure with, and that there’s no pressure regardless of his decision.
Considering how fast he ran earlier, I’m guessing he’s still uncomfortable.
I just hope she doesn’t ask for him specifically, ’cause I might have to make him come tell her no face to face, just so I’m not the one making her cry.
He’s family, and he’s stuck with us, but I don’t like it when people are upset with me, so if he insists on hurting her, I won’t be a part of it.
Still, he looked a little funny? Not ha-ha funny, but kind of green.
Oh, I hope he isn’t coming down with the stomach flu or something, that would be just terrible timing since he’d have to call in sick to work on Monday…
of course he might need to do that anyway, even if he isn’t helping out.
I’ve been at full mast since I walked inside, so he’s probably sporting at least a semi-chub from all the pheromones.
That would have to be awkward in those suit pants he wears to work.
There’s really nothing left to do down here.
Paul has already gone upstairs to see what she might need, and he took a couple of the cases of water and some snack bars with him.
I can’t keep fucking around down here. I’m gonna make a fool of myself.
Maybe I should go relieve some pressure alone so I don’t come in my pants…
that’s always a mess to clean up, better to be prepared.
The door to the nest is still open when I get to the top of the stairs.
It’s at the end of the hallway, but I still have to go that way to get to my room.
The smell is stronger now, and it’s tinged with Paul’s boozy wood smell.
This wouldn’t feel nearly so awkward if my damned chest would stop vibrating for five fucking minutes.
My feet carry me past my own room. I see it happening, but they don’t seem to be in my control anymore.
Everything seems to be on autopilot as I peer around the door and into the nest.
I find myself standing at the edge of the bed with no memory of walking into the room, staring in awe at the little omega.
Sarah is on her hands and knees on the mattress.
She keeps running her palms along the sheets, tucking darker pieces of fabric around the edges and under the pile of pillows.
There are more here than just what we bought…
and I immediately recognize my own Superman pillowcases stuffed into the pile, as well as Paul’s pear-colored ones.
It looks like both our comforters have also been hijacked and rolled up to make a lip around the edge of the mattress.
Paul and Greg stand off to one side, both already nude and covering themselves with their hands.
That’s when I figure it out. She’s stuffing their clothes under the pillows and pushing them under the sides of the boarder she made with our bedding.
My stupid purring chest gets even louder, and her head pops up, turning and staring at me intently.
Her pupils have completely taken over the rich chocolate color of her eyes as she looks me up and down, assessing before holding out her hands, palms up.
Her fingers flex in the air like she’s waiting for something, and Paul lets out a small chuckle at what must be my flabbergasted expression before sidestepping my way, his hands still over his junk.
“She wants your clothes for her nest, Spence. That’s a good thing.
Sorry, we already raided your room for blankets and pillows, and she spent a few minutes just rolling around on those.
I’ve heard about nesting instincts, but it’s really interesting to see.
” He keeps talking even as I frantically pull off my sweatpants and shirt, putting them directly into her hands.
She looks me up and down, staring pointedly at my boxer briefs for a few seconds before meeting my eyes—a look of frustration creases her brow.
“Yup, she wants all of it, sorry, Bro.” Paul’s smile is huge as he stares between the two of us, and it just gets wider when a tiny feminine growl threads through the room as she stares intently at my underwear.
Shit, I guess there’s no helping it. I step out of those too, and a pleased smile replaces her earlier look of annoyance as she brings the whole pile of fabric to her stomach and starts rubbing everything over her skin.
After a few minutes of rolling around on them and rubbing my shirt over her neck, she tucks them into the little blanket circle she’s created around the edge of the mattress, then buries her face in the pile of pillows, her shoulders relaxing slightly.
Suddenly she sits up, looking around the rest of the room like something’s missing.
She stares at each of us in turn, an almost animalistic tilt of her head as she tries to see around each of our bodies.
A high, pathetic whine slices through the air as she continues her frantic search for whatever it is.
Finally, looking at the nest she’s built, she climbs carefully over the border and walks towards Greg, pulling his arm until he follows her, and then walks around behind him to shove him towards the bed.
The beta just shrugs his shoulders and climbs carefully over the edge so as not to disturb her work.
She walks towards Paul and me, looking up, meeting each of our eyes before circling around behind us.
When she comes back to the front, she looks upset, a sad little whimper coming from her throat.
Paul looks surprised for a moment, then almost apologetic.
I don’t know how much of it she understands at this point.
She seems to mostly be running on instinct right now.
“I’m sorry Sarah, we don’t know what Alistair’s doing.
I left him a message telling him he didn’t have to be here, but that you wanted him.
I even made sure he knew the invitation wasn’t from me so he didn’t feel pressured one way or the other.
I’m sorry.” He reaches out to cup her jaw, and she rubs against him like a cat, big tears gathering in her eyes before sliding down her flushed cheeks.
His muttered, “Fuck,” is all the motive I need to turn.
I’ll go get our pack-lead, so he can explain what the issue is.
She doesn’t like me leaving, and Greg scrambles off the bed—almost upsetting her nest—in an effort to stop her from chasing after me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch him scoop her up and carry her back to the mattress, distracting her with a kiss until she melts against him.
My erection, already painfully obvious, bobs up and down as I hurry down the hallway.
Al’s about to get an eyeful, and it’s his own damned fault for leaving our girl waiting.
Alistair
The loud knocking on my bedroom door draws me out of the self-pity spiral that’s taking place on the cold bathroom floor.
Why can’t I just talk to people? Why can’t I just talk to her?
She’s an omega, I’m an alpha; we’re biologically compatible.
She’s a bit of a psycho, but at least that’s entertaining, and she doesn’t act like any omega I’ve met before.
Though maybe that’s what it is—an act. I hope not, Spencer is already in love with her…
fuck, I hope it’s the real her. She’s feisty as shit and it’s amusing to see them together because he’s just so reserved in comparison.
He’ll talk to anyone, but he’s usually so calm about it.
I don’t think she can enter a room without making a scene… and friends.
Dragging myself up and forcing my useless legs to lock and hold me vertical takes longer than it should.
Whatever malaise has come over me seems like more than mere depression—then again, the complete collapse of your life and all your hopes for the future could have that effect on anyone, I suppose.
I plod across my room as another volley of pounding assaults the door, shaking the frame.
Spencer’s voice is loud on the other side.
“I get it if you’re rubbing one out right now, her scent is making it hard to focus real well…
but just answer the door now, I need to talk to you!
” What the hell is he even talking about?
Turning the lock, I throw open the door, standing before him—still completely dressed to prove that I am, in fact, not “rubbing one out.” Instead of the smiling packmate I’m expecting, I’m affronted with his naked chest…
oh god, he’s completely naked…and erect.
Jesus, I knew he was big because, well, he’s big…
but is the omega going to survive? Do I care?
Wait, is it already over? Don’t these things normally take days?
I know I’ve been wallowing for a while now, but that seems awfully quick.
Maybe this was just a spike or something, and he’s come to ask me to go to the store for an item he forgot.
I perk up at the idea of having an excuse to escape, even for a short time.
Desperate to keep my eyes above waist level, I stare intently at his face, waiting for him to tell me what he needs.
His ears turn red, and he looks frustrated, which, of course he would be if it already ended and he’s still like…
this. I take a tentative breath through my nose and realize I don’t smell her on him.
Her scent still hangs heavy in the air, but it’s not attached to him.
Finally giving up and wanting out of this situation, I just ask.
Straightforward is usually the best direction with this alpha.
“Spencer…not that it’s not lovely to see…
so much of you. Truly, but…what are you doing here?
Don’t you have an omega that needs tending to? ”
His blush deepens as he turns slightly to look back towards the nest, a small smile playing around the edges of his lips.
But the expression that turns back to me is hard, more determination that I normally see from him coming into play.
Even his voice is hard, all his usual resolve not to make waves is gone as he confronts me.
“What’s going on, Al? Why have you locked yourself in here?
You look terrible.” Thank you so much. “I mean…I get that you don’t like her, but…
is it really that bad to be around her? Paul said it was your choice, and it is.
You don’t ever have to do anything you don’t want to.
But I’m not gonna make her cry for you. If you don’t want her, you have to come tell her yourself.
She keeps looking around like something’s missing and can’t seem to get settled in her nest. So you need to come talk to her.
I’ll help pick up the pieces afterwards ’cause you’re family and we take care of each other, but she deserves the truth from you. ”
My mind spins and whirls, trying to understand what the hell he’s talking about.
My mouth opens, ready to refute his statements.
Then snaps closed as I spin and frantically search for where I left my phone.
Have I fucked up in some way, the complete opposite of how I previously thought I was going to fuck up?
Snatching my phone from the charger, I open my text messages, scrolling down to see several walls of text from Paul.
The final one is short and to the point.
Pick up the fucking phone. I hate texting. These keys are too fucking small to use properly. Fine, I’ll leave you a voicemail, but you better listen to the whole damned thing. Because I’m tired of autocorrect and retyping ship…ARGH!!! not fixing that one.
My head swivels, taking in my very large, very imposing, very naked packmate still standing in the doorway like some sort of well-endowed golem.
My voice shakes as I finally admit the truth.
“I thought she…I only listened to part of Paul’s message.
He said I didn’t have to be there, that he couldn’t invite me.
” My throat feels like it cracks open as the last bit spills out.
“I thought she didn’t want me. I’ve been an asshole.
She’s right not to want to put up with my moody bullshit. ”
He sighs, stepping into my private space and reaching out to put a big hand on my shoulder.
“You’ve totally been a moody asshole, but you’re our moody asshole.
And it seems like she does want you. So get your pillows and blankets and move your ass, ’cause I don’t know how long Greg can keep her distracted without a knot.
” He turns abruptly, his feet pounding a hurried rhythm down the hall.
The sound of his steps fade away but his voice returns a few moments later.
“Um…never mind, he’s got this. So you have time to brush your teeth before you come to the nest. Your breath smells like barf. ”
Yeah, my mouth still tastes pretty gross too.