Twenty-Nine
TWENTY-NINE
Mia
I FELT MY CHEEKS heat as I ushered Luca into the guest bedroom in his own house. Even more so when he glanced at the undisturbed pillows on the bed and frowned, like he was wondering why I hadn’t used them to make a proper nest for myself.
“What’s keeping you awake tonight?” I asked before he could say anything about it.
He hesitated. “I feel bad dumping this on you after...” He swallowed hard. “After Emiel’s fight.”
I waved him toward the ridiculous beanbag chair and hopped up to sit cross-legged on the bed, hugging the summer-smelling pillow to my stomach. “Nah, go on. I’d rather worry about someone else’s problems than my own right now.”
He let out a soft huff of laughter, though the sound didn’t have much humor behind it. “You sound like me,” he said, picking at a seam on the beanbag. “Okay. It’s the kid. Tony. The runaway. I told myself I wouldn’t get invested in his case. Not like the others have.”
I nodded. “Sure. And how’s that working out for you?”
A wry snort. “About as well as you’d expect.”
Zalen had said the teenager had a bad home life, and Luca had mentioned an unsuccessful hearing to become an emancipated minor.
“If his home life is so messed up, maybe it’s just as well he got away,” I suggested carefully.
“His stepdad has been sexually molesting him for years,” Luca said in a flat voice. “And I’d love to think that he’s crashing on someone’s couch, getting help and support from a school friend’s family.”
A wash of queasiness roiled my stomach at the revelation. “But you don’t think that.”
“No.” The word was a whisper. Luca cleared his throat and continued, “I think he’s going to end up with a gang, exactly like what happened to me. It’ll seem like a safer situation; but in reality, it’ll be like dangling fresh bait in a shark tank.”
My heart ached.
“Is he an omega?” I asked.
Luca shook his head. “A beta. I’m not sure if that’s better or worse.”
“Equally bad,” I suggested. “I’m sorry. This must be bringing a lot of things back for you.”
Silence fell for a long moment, as Luca continued to worry at the threads holding the beanbag closed.
“It’s just frustrating,” he said at last. “Nothing changes, no matter how hard the others work to make it change.”
“The others?” I asked. “You’re doing that work, too, you know.”
“I sit in a cushy office and write grants,” he said, not looking at me.
“Grants that pay the bills so the others can keep doing what they’re doing,” I shot back.
He shrugged.
I regarded him in the low light—a slender figure with wild bed-head and dark circles under his eyes. “Do you want to do more hands-on stuff with the kids at the project?”
That startled him into meeting my eyes. “No,” he said quickly. “ God , no. I’m a walking PTSD case looking for a trigger in a warehouse full of triggers. This is what I can do to help that doesn’t end up in me melting down.” He quirked a sardonic eyebrow. “Well, most of the time, anyway.”
“Then you’re doing what you need to be doing,” I told him. “Maybe things will still work out with Tony.”
“Maybe.” He didn’t sound convinced. “Or maybe he’ll surface in a few weeks as an overdose case... or with a bullet in his head.” He took in a shuddering breath. “Damn. Now I need someone else’s problems to focus on. Why can’t you sleep?”
I chewed my lower lip for a moment, rolling the plump flesh between my teeth.
Luca glanced at me from under dark lashes. “Sorry... you don’t have to answer that question if you don’t want to.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s just, um, too much change in too short a time, I think. Too much uncertainty.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt stupid. I was talking to a guy who’d lost everything he’d ever known at least twice in his life, and he’d undergone the kind of horrific abuse I couldn’t even imagine along the way. By contrast, I had a supportive family and a successful business. Who the hell was I to complain about my life?
But all he said was, “This can’t be easy for you. And I guess Byron and I aren’t exactly making it any easier.”
I looked away, caught out. “I’m not sure what the rules are supposed to be, here,” I admitted. “And even worse, I’m not sure what I’d want them to be, if it were my call.”
“Dunno if they make a rulebook for this kind of situation,” Luca said wryly. “But I should warn you, I’m probably going to be shit at this.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous movement. “I haven’t had a lot of practice having sex with people I actually like .”
I frowned. “What about Byron?”
He looked discomfited. “That’s different. It’s not—” Another pause. “Him and me... it’s not like that.”
I was living with these guys, and I still didn’t have the faintest clue what was going on with them. “Okay,” I said. “That’s fair.”
He made a frustrated noise. “It’s not fair to you that I can’t explain what I feel. I mean... I definitely didn’t come down here tonight to try and get in your pants or anything. But... I really like you, Mia. Being with you feels easy.”
A warm flush suffused me. “I know what you mean.”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What about you? Do you want more? Than just friendship, I mean.”
Yes , I thought.
“I don’t know,” I said aloud. “It would be kind of complicated right now. But I’d like it if you stayed tonight. I’m not doing so good on my own.”
I had no doubt it was blatantly obvious that I’d been crying, both from my scent and my swollen, bloodshot eyes.
“Same,” he said, rising and stretching with a yawn. “But I am not sleeping on that bed until you use those fucking pillows for their god-given intended purpose. Seriously, why did I even drag them out of storage if you’re not going to use them?”
I let out a startled laugh. “I don’t know; you tell me .” But I reached back and began dragging everything into a messy pile, shoving blankets around until the whole mess formed a soft depression surrounded by cushy luxury.
“That’s more like it,” Luca said, mock officious, and tugged me into the middle with him. “If I achieve nothing else, I will teach you to make a proper nest like a normal person.”
I almost asked him if he didn’t think it was a lot of unnecessary work to tidy and fold everything in the morning. But I’d seen Luca’s nest. Apparently, ‘normal people’ didn’t bother with that, which certainly held its own appeal.
So, rather than protest, I snuggled down with him in the space I’d made for us. On a hunch, I urged him to turn around with his back to me and curled up behind him as the big spoon. Or, more accurately, as the somewhat shorter spoon who still happened to be in back.
He went very still, and for a moment I worried I’d done something wrong... but then he let out a shuddering breath and melted into my embrace. He wriggled his top arm free, laying it over mine to keep me in place. With that motion of acceptance, something inside me loosened from its tense tangle.
I buried my nose in the wild hair at the base of Luca’s neck and breathed in. Within moments, I felt his muscles grow lax in sleep. I was only able to enjoy it for a few minutes before I followed him, my brain floating downward into the nest of soft warmth.
When I woke up, I was alone. The heavy curtains held the light outside at bay, but my phone informed me it was ten-thirty. A quickly scrawled note tucked under the case said that the others were all at work and to text or call if I needed anything.
Luca had signed it with his name and a line of x’s and o’s.
I wasn’t used to sleeping so deeply, or for so long at a stretch. My head felt like it had been lined with cotton wool. I stared at the confusion of pillows and blankets covering the bed, wavered for a moment, and left everything as it was.
This was my one precious day off per week, but I felt oddly at loose ends. I took a shower, checked the smear of blueish bruising that was the only remaining reminder of my black eye, and found it pretty much gone. My hair went into a messy day-off ponytail, and I threw on some comfortable sweats.
Two cups of Zalen’s amazing gourmet coffee swept the remaining cobwebs from my brain. A quick inventory of the cupboards and pantry confirmed that my new roommates weren’t making proper use of their gorgeous kitchen. I most definitely needed to go shopping before attempting a sit-down dinner for five.
I made cinnamon toast for my late breakfast, glad to see that they at least had a fully stocked spice rack—even if the bottles were worryingly dusty from lack of use. Then I tore a page from the little notebook sitting at the end of the counter and sat on a stool by the breakfast bar, composing a shopping list.
A glance at my phone showed it was eleven-thirty already. I should probably leave soon since I might have to go hunting for things in an unfamiliar grocery store, and I didn’t want to feel rushed today.
After retrieving my keys and wallet, I was debating whether I needed to go around and make sure all the doors were locked when the sound of the front door opening and closing startled me. For an instant, adrenaline surged through my veins... but then the spicy smell of aniseed and sweet fennel reached me.
“Hi,” I said stupidly, as Byron Harper walked into the kitchen.
He raised a dusky gold eyebrow at me, as relaxed and at ease as a freshly fed jaguar.
“Hi yourself,” he said, a hint of irony lacing his tone. “Luca sent me to check on you. But I see you haven’t managed to get lost in the house or fall down the basement stairs in his absence.”
“Not yet, anyway,” I told him, feeling off-balance in the presence of the sinfully hot alpha. “I was just about to go buy some food for tonight’s dinner.”
“Grocery shopping? How very domestic,” he said. His head tilted, as though he was assessing me. “Come on, then. I’ll take a long lunch and play chauffeur for you.”