Chapter 23 #2
There’s a heavy sigh. “Of course you did,” Blair says. “Good thing you have three Alphas that adore you and would help you make a new one.”
“I ripped up all my nesting blankets.”
“Been there, done that.”
My eyes widen. “Really?”
“Yes! You’re not alone in this, Maeve. We all have our moments. I mean this in the most loving way possible—what you’re going through is not special. We all have our breakdowns, our freakouts, our spirals. Even the most well-adjusted, healthy person on earth falls apart sometimes.”
“I don’t feel healthy or well-adjusted.”
“I know. And maybe, when you’re up to it, we can all help you look at other suppressant options. You know there’s different formulas, right? Some of them can affect your mood. Maybe there’s a better suited one for you.”
“Oh. That’s something I never considered before.”
“Yup. We could figure that out together, one day? You want to set a goal for that?”
“Yeah. I could try.”
I sound miserable.
Everything seems so hopeless right now.
Even though Alvin is alright, I still can’t get the sensation of being worried out of my body.
“You should spend some time with your Alphas, Maeve. Take the day off tomorrow. Charity can fill in for you.”
“Charity?”
“Yeah, she’s a volunteer we had while you were in Heat. Fitting name. She’s a little quirky, like you. You’ll like her.”
I love meeting new people, and the possibility of gaining another friend makes me almost smile.
“Okay,” I say. “I think I’ll take the day off.”
“With a caveat,” Blair adds. “Don’t wallow for the next day. Spend time with the people that care about you. If you want me to come over, I will. But I think your pack would be happy to see you. Let them be there for you and offer you support.”
I nod, even though she can’t see it. “I’ll try.”
“If I find out you didn’t, I’ll be pissed. I won’t let you use my sparkly eyeshadow anymore.”
“That’s…really mean and unnecessary,” I argue.
“Well, then you better go hang out with your pack. I’ve got to go but call me whenever. It’s feeding time for the cats.”
“Wait.” I check my phone. “You’re feeding Mervin, Marlin, and Ash at eight at night?”
“It’s their third meal,” Blair sighs. “They bullied me into it. I don’t want to talk about it.”
I chuckle. “Fair enough.”
“Remember what I said. Don’t hide from the people that care about you. We all love you.”
“I love all of you, too.”
After we hang up, I heave a deep, heavy sigh.
Then, I grimace at the mess in my bedroom.
Even if I wanted to nest for comfort, there’s no way to do it, now.
My fitted sheets are ruined. The nesting blankets Ivan gifted me are intact, but it feels wrong to put them on a bare mattress.
I rub my achy eyes, tired from crying so much.
Blair is right—Fang, Ivan, and Logan would do anything for me. I feel that in my heart, and I know it’s been true since my Heat.
My inner Omega recognizes it as a universal truth.
Yet that doesn’t stop the shame and embarrassment for the thoughts in my head.
That doesn’t stop the voice that sounds far too much like my mother reminding me of what a crybaby I am.
I open up a text from Logan, and my stomach aches at his tenderness.
Alvin is doing great. Please take care of yourself.
Sweet Logan.
I can’t even imagine how he feels right now—that look of confused concern on his face stays burned into my brain.
He wants me to take care of myself.
How can I do that when everything feels so heavy?
I manage to get up and head into the front room.
The Alphas’ scents still linger, bourbon, apples, and leather all creating a delicious, perfect aroma.
I trudge to the front door, pathetically press my forehead against the wood and just inhale.
They were here recently.
They tried to check on me, but I ignored their concern.
I rejected them—the same way I was terrified Fang had once rejected me.
Do they feel that terror now, too?
Did I hurt my pack without intending to?
I peek out the peephole and am surprised to see a pile of packages on my welcome mat.
I can’t tell what they are from the fuzzy tiny glass, so I open the door to investigate.
“Oh,” I breathe.
No wonder the scents were so strong by the front door.
Along with brand new nesting blankets, they dropped off their sweatshirts.
I pick up a black one with the words Luna Community College on it and bring it to my nose, inhaling deeply.
I whimper as Fang’s dark leather scent fills my nostrils. My mouth waters, and my stomach flips in anticipation, not dread.
I’m too busy rubbing the fabric across my mating gland to notice I’m not alone.
“There you are.”
Fang’s voice, low and delighted, makes me jump.
“That’s my favorite sweatshirt,” he adds, smirking. “I hope you like it.”
He stands to my left, leaning against the wall of the apartment building. There’s a large takeout bag in one hand, and his other is in the pocket of his dark jeans.
“Have you just been lingering here?” I ask, embarrassed to be caught rubbing myself with his clothing.
“For a while,” he admits. “We’ve been taking turns keeping watch.”
“Keeping watch?”
“We gave up knocking when you didn’t answer. So, if you weren’t going to let us in, we would just guard your door until you were ready to talk.” He nods at the sweatshirt. “And drop you presents off along the way.”
“I see,” I murmur, playing with the soft material of his sweatshirt.
“I was going to give you another half hour, though,” he says cooly.
“A half hour for what?”
“Until I picked the lock to your door to deliver you dinner. Logan and Ivan said I shouldn’t, but…” he shrugs. “They’re not the bosses of me.”
“You know how to pick locks?”
I should not be flattered, but my inner Omega preens with delight.
Blair would for sure call this a red flag, but she’s not the boss of me, either.
“You have to eat,” he says. “And I couldn’t confirm if you had.”
He flashes me a brilliant grin, then holds up the takeout bag. “I brought sushi. A ton.”
My eyes widen, and he laughs.
“That’s my girl. Come on, let’s go inside and have dinner.”
But I stay rooted in place, frozen with uncertainty.
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly.
“I promise you, you have nothing to be sorry for,” he says, his leather scent blooming around me. “Especially if you let me inside.”
I want to argue with him. Of course I have reasons to be sorry.
Running off without an explanation, pushing him and his packmates away for no reason other than the imagined scenarios in my mind.
I roll my eyes weakly. “Fine,” I grumble. “But only if it’s a lot of sushi.”
“I have two salmon rolls, an avocado roll, and a scallop hand roll. And that’s just for you. We also have some shrimp tempura to share.”
My stomach roars. It’s not a growl; it’s something a dinosaur would make, loud enough for Fang to raise his eyebrows.
“Sushi it is, then,” he laughs, and my face flames in embarrassment.