Chapter Twenty-One – Raeka
I groan when I wake up. My back is a little sore, and as I sit up and stretch, I realize just why that is: I’m outside, under the early morning sun, on the patio in the back. Where I slept. All night. Like some kind of maniac.
Ugh, I am not the kind of girl who can fall asleep any and everywhere. I need a bed. A cozy, comfy mattress. This is so unlike me. Seriously, who am I and where did the real Raeka go?
A blanket tumbles off me and bunches up on my lap, and my eyes study it.
I don’t remember Colter getting up to fetch blankets for us, and I definitely didn’t, so that’s odd.
Then again, Colter isn’t beside me, so maybe he got up and grabbed me a blanket before heading back up to his third-floor suite.
His hoodie still clings to my body, and it’s softer than I remembered it being last night.
I tug at the neckline, bringing it up to my nose and giving it a good sniff before I know what I’m doing—and the moment my nose doesn’t smell a single thing, I frown and stifle the omega whine threatening to bubble up my throat.
It’s like that bitch wants to smell Colter, just like it wanted to smell Pax.
Ugh, jeez. That freak needs to get a grip.
It isn’t like these injections of mine are new.
Granted, I had to take the last one before the recommended time, but it was an emergency.
Gideon and Pax’s scents were starting to burst through my defenses, and I don’t trust myself not to throw all of my hopes and dreams away to get laid by an alpha knot or two.
I get to my feet, grab the blanket and the bag of pretzels that was my makeshift dinner last night, and head inside.
When I make it to the kitchen, I realize it’s damn near noon—I can’t remember the last time I slept in till noon.
I abandon the blanket as a ball on the island and return the bag of pretzels into the cabinet I retrieved it from last night.
Thanks to having a family chef my whole life, I am a terrible cook. The only things I can do are simple, easy shit like sandwiches and stuff that goes right in the microwave or the oven. I whip myself up a simple chicken sandwich with sliced chicken breast and some lettuce.
I eat in silence, replaying last night over in my mind. Replaying all of yesterday, really. The scene with Pax. Bonding with Colter.
Even now, I can’t believe Colter was so judgment-free.
I would’ve thought that since I’m here for him, he would’ve been at least a little upset that I was practically panting for Pax.
Same with Gideon, really. I need the judgment.
I need someone in this house to make me feel bad, otherwise I might be tempted to try it again.
See? Bad. Very bad. I can’t seem to snap myself out of it. The shots shackled my nose, but the rest of me is intact, and… fuck, it’s hard being in a house with three men, so much harder than I thought it would be.
I finish my sandwich and am about to head upstairs to change and shower when I run into Gideon at the base of the stairs.
Literally, I ram myself against him as I round the corner.
If my nose would be working, I surely would have smelled him and known he was there, and I could’ve avoided getting so close to him.
Alas, I bounce back from his chest with an unsteady balance, and he instantly reaches for me to help stabilize me, his hands firmly wrapping around my upper arms.
All I can say is, thank God for Colter’s hoodie, otherwise I would have felt those hands on my bare skin, and at the rate I’m going, I probably would’ve exploded.
“There you are,” he says, still holding onto me, long after I’m steady. “I was looking for you. Did you just wake up?” His dark blue gaze falls to the hoodie I wear, and I resist my urge to squirm a bit.
“Yeah,” I say, though the word comes out more like a squeak than anything else.
He suddenly seems to remember he’s holding onto me still, and he quickly drops his hands off my arms like I’m a hot potato or something.
He coughs and takes a step to the side, as if trying to put more distance between us.
“If you have time, I would like to have a little meeting with you and Pax in my office.”
My stomach churns. A meeting with me and Pax? Fuck. For some reason, I really thought Pax would try to run away from this. Now we have to face the consequences of our actions together. How fun.
All I can say is, “Sure.”
Gideon leads me to his office, and as I walk I hang my head low and tug at the sleeves’ fabric around my wrists. The hoodie is still baggy on me, and it strangely provides a bit of comfort. It’s soft and warm, and even though I can’t smell it, I know it smells like Colter.
When we reach his office, I find Pax is already there, standing in the corner with his arms folded over his chest and the muscles on his forearms bulging.
Those arms really are something. He glances at Gideon, but that intense stare immediately falls upon me, where it remains even after Gideon instructs I take a seat.
“So,” I break the awkward silence in the room, aware both alphas currently stare at me. “So, uh…” Normally I know exactly what to say. I don’t really stumble over my words, but here, today, it’s different.
“After Pax informed me of what happened yesterday, he told me he doesn’t know whether he can continue doing the job,” Gideon says once he’s seated on the other side of the desk.
He folds his hands on his lap as he leans back, holding my stare.
“He told me he wants to quit and that he can find another alpha to take his place.”
As he says that, I can’t help but hold my breath.
My heart does something weird in my chest, too; it’s as if my entire body is trying to scream, like it wants to voice its disagreement.
I don’t want Pax to leave. Of course I don’t, but if we have to say goodbye, then…
I guess I understand. He’ll only be a distraction to me if yesterday was any indication.
Gideon studies me hard, and I wonder if he can read my thoughts, though it’s more probable he’s reading my body language. “Is that what you want?”
I clearly am not expecting that question, because all I can do is blink and say, “What?”
He repeats it, “Is that what you want? Do you want Pax to go? After he expressed his intent to leave, we came to the conclusion that perhaps you should be the one to decide. So, Raeka, do you want Pax to leave, or do you want him to stay?”
“I don’t—” I shake my head once. “—I don’t get it. Why is it my decision? Why are you letting me choose? Shouldn’t it be your decision, since technically both Pax and I are here because of you?”
“I don’t own you, nor does my nephew. Your freedom has always been important to you, so I’m leaving the decision in your hands. Do you want Pax to stay, or do you want him to leave? Keeping in mind that, if he leaves, you might never see him again.”
The way he says that last part makes me think he’s trying to convince me to let Pax stay, that he wants Pax to stay just as much as he knows I do, but that doesn’t really make sense… does it?
I shift around in the chair, slow to glance at Pax.
The way he’s staring at me makes me think he’s conflicted; he doesn’t want to leave, but at the same time, he knows if he stays we might find ourselves in the same predicament again, and the next time we’re too close for comfort, there might not be a random female alpha ready to step in and remind us of how inappropriate our closeness is.
Are we willing to take that risk? For someone who claimed she hated alphas, that one found himself under my skin pretty freaking quickly, didn’t he?
And that says nothing about the peculiar alpha sitting across from me, waiting to hear my decision. There’s something about him that makes me curious, too, something that pulls me in in spite of it all.
Shit. I’m in deep and I don’t even know it, huh?
If I was a stronger woman, I might do the right thing. I might tell Gideon that Pax should leave. But, unfortunately for us all, I am learning that I’m much weaker than I thought I was, because all I can say is, “I don’t want him to go. I want him to stay.”
Now both alphas in the room are watching me with expressions that make me want to crawl under a blanket and hide.
Pax is still super intense, but something else is laced in those emerald eyes that make me want to squirm and squeeze my thighs together, and Gideon radiates a quiet intensity that I overlooked before, like he knew what my answer would be before I even spoke it.
Gideon looks to Pax. “Well? You heard her as well as I did. She wants you to stay. Will you?”
Pax answers him while staring straight at me: “How could I go?”
I stand. “Now, if you two will excuse me, I have to shower.” I slip out of the room before either alpha can say a word. The longer I stew in their testosterone and pheromones, the weaker-willed I am. For some reason they affect me when they absolutely shouldn’t.
Once I’m out of the room, I race upstairs, and I only stop hurrying when I’m alone in the bathroom, with my shower caddy, the door locked. Those two have me flustered more than they have any right to, and I don’t know how to calm myself down.
I end up taking a much longer shower than is necessary—for all the good it does me, which is none, because when I stroll into my bedroom afterward, I find Pax standing near my bed. So much for putting some space between us.
I set my shower caddy down and pretend the rapid beating of my heart is simply due to the fact that he stands so close to my bed, where I hid my slick-covered panties and my injections, and not for any other reason.
“Didn’t know you’re auditioning for creep of the year,” I say dryly, and the scowl that forms on his handsome face afterward makes me grin.
“For what it’s worth, I definitely think you’re up there in the running. You have my vote.”
His jaw grinds, but he doesn’t say a word.
“Care to share with the class why you’re auditioning for the role of creeper, or should I just guess?”
Pax’s hands flex at his sides, though they relax for a few seconds before flexing again. In a constant cycle, the alpha appears oddly conflicted. “Why’d you tell me to stay?” His voice comes out low, almost deadly, and I fight the immediate shiver that surfaces on my spine.
A voice like that I can easily imagine whispering other things to me.
“Because… I didn’t want you to go.” A lame answer, one he doesn’t accept.
“Why not?”
I run a hand through my damp hair and shrug. “I want you to stay.”
“And why,” he pauses as he takes a single step in my direction, “do you want me to stay?” Though there is at least ten feet between us, it’s suddenly not enough.
It feels as though his six-and-a-half-foot frame is towering over me, reminding me of how easily those shoulders can block out the rest of the world.
If he can make me forget I’m in public, if he can make my inner omega whine while surrounded by strangers, what can he make me do in the privacy of this house? I don’t want to think about it, mostly because I already know the answer.
“I…” Usually I’m quick with either a smart comeback or the truth, but something about the way he’s looking at me makes everything get caught up on my tongue. Instead, I decide to ask him: “Do you really want to leave?”
“No,” he says simply. “But I should, if you want to keep up the pretense of courting the beta.”
“I’m not courting him.”
“Then I should go so he can court you.”
“There is no courting going on—”
“That’s not what it looked like last night. You two looked pretty damn comfortable together out there.”
I close my eyes for a moment, trying to think of something to say, but my mind draws a blank, and when I open my eyes I find Pax has closed the distance between us and now stands less than two feet away. I find my voice under his intense scrutiny, “Jealous?”
“No,” he says the word again, and strangely enough I believe him. After all, what does an über alpha like him have to be jealous of? Nothing. “You’re not… you’re not mine. There’s nothing to be jealous of.”
Something in me makes me curious. “Are you really never going to find someone and settle down?”
“I wasn’t planning on it—which is why you’re making this job a lot harder than it needs to be.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “Why?”
“You know damn well why.” His gaze shifts to my bare neck, which is still a little oily thanks to the cream I applied there after my shower.
“You can put all the shit you want on your skin, but bits and pieces of you still sneak through. You’re a drug, and it’s killing me that I don’t know how you feel. ”
Call me crazy, but I don’t think he means he doesn’t know how I feel emotionally. No, I’m like ninety-nine percent sure he’s talking about something more on the physical side of the spectrum.
My inner temperature threatens to climb under the heat of his gaze, so I look away and move around him, deeper into my room, mostly to put more space between us once again.
“Well, Mr. Alpha, I guess you’ll have to keep wondering—” Though my back is to him, I hear it, and anything else I might say dies in my throat.
A growl. A deep-throated, guttural growl that radiates from his thick chest easily. A growl that’s not meant to scare or frighten, but a growl that’s a signal of just how starving he is.
And I don’t mean for food.
My core is seconds from releasing slick onto a fresh pair of panties, so I think about other things instead of the growly alpha in my room.
I tell him, “Maybe you should… go get some air, or something.” Fuck, it’s difficult to say that.
All I really want to do is turn around and run toward him, feel that growl reverberate in my own body as I arch into him.
Pax thankfully doesn’t say a word. He stomps out of my room and shuts the door loudly behind him, and only when he’s gone can I relax my shoulders and collapse onto my bed.
Wow. That was a close one. Too close.
Shit. How the hell am I supposed to survive in this house? Maybe I need to go home when it’s time for my next heat—I sure as heck don’t trust myself not to beg for that jerk’s knot when I’m out of my mind and delirious.
Maybe I should have told Gideon I wanted Pax gone.
But, as I think that particular thought, I can’t help but cringe at how untrue it would’ve been.