Chapter 28
The smell of takeout, soy sauce, and egg rolls pulls my consciousness forward.
I don’t know when I last felt this comfortable. Despite everything, I feel restored, and my nausea is gone. I’m going to try not to dig into that too much, lest I have to admit that these guys really are something to me.
I feel better than I have in ages. Not to say that I’m fully recovered from the FOS, but I haven’t slept that soundly since Tripp and Greg moved in. My body feels stronger, and my stomach actually growls with hunger.
When was the last time I ate?
“Come out of the blankets and eat, Doc,” Dario croons from above me. “I don’t know if you like Chinese food, but Jude ordered a veritable feast.”
“I love Chinese food,” I groan, stretching out my stiff limbs.
Dario’s blanket falls off me, and Dexter’s eye mask has migrated down to my neck in my slumber, and I’m sure I look like a mess, but when the blurriness left over from my sleep leaves my eyes, I see the blond Alpha smiling broadly at me.
It makes my chest twinge with a long-forgotten tenderness.
“But before I eat, I have got to take a shower.”
He clicks his tongue in disappointment. “You should probably eat first. What if you pass out? You haven’t eaten in days.”
Sitting up and throwing the blanket off me, I mull over his words. He’s not wrong, but also…
“There’s no way I can eat when I can smell myself. Do you know how many times I puked?” I shudder, swinging my feet to the floor. “My teeth are growing moss. I’ll be quick.”
Conflict flashes across his beautiful face before he stands up and holds his hand out so I can see it. They have all started showing me their hands before they touch me so I can get ready for the sensation.
It’s so thoughtful that it makes me want to cry.
Dario takes my elbow, his candy apple scent so sweet and crisp that I can practically feel the crunch between my teeth as I bite into one. He leads me into Jude’s small bathroom.
“I’m going to leave so you can get undressed and get in. I’ll grab you some clothes, but then I’m coming back and sitting on the floor. I want to be nearby in case you fall or need anything.”
“I’m not gonna fall,” I insist, leaning into the shower stall to turn it on. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Humor me, Doc.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I’d be happy to join you if you’d prefer.” He waggles his dark eyebrows with an exaggerated humor that has me giggling, but doesn’t stop the heat building between my thighs and on my face.
I’ve seen Dario’s body, clothed only in the tiniest of shorts that he wears during his act, and my mind has decided to pull the memory of it front and center as he stands so close to me. The Alpha is damn near irresistible.
I would have no self-control if he followed me into the shower, and I need to keep my wits about me. This situation is already less than ideal.
“Hah, hah,” I force out. “Funny. You can sit on the floor, then. After you get me clothes.” I shoo him out of the bathroom, and he backs out with his hands up, showing me his palms. He pouts for just a split second before winking at me and strolling off.
I strip out of my sweat-soaked clothing and toss it onto the floor. They’ll need to be burned at this point, with all the distress pheromones soaked into them. I doubt even the most industrial of scent removers could salvage them now.
The shower is hot, even if the water pressure leaves something to be desired. Looks like my trailer isn’t the only one with a spray that feels like a watering can.
Jude, thankfully, has scent-cancelling bodywash, and I scrub myself thoroughly with my hands, because no way in hell am I sharing that man’s loofah. He seems like a clean enough dude, but he’s so fucking hairy, and I do not want to get a wayward pube in my armpit.
What is not a surprise is the plethora of hair products, including a few gels and creams, on the corner shelf.
Not having to use a two-in-one shampoo and conditioner on my abused hair is a small victory.
“Did you know Dario means possessing goodness?” The Alpha asks, startling me with his smooth voice. I didn’t hear him come in and nearly dropped the shampoo bottle. “Or upholder of the good, depending on the translation.”
“I didn’t,” I comment, regaining my cool as I massage my scalp. “It’s a cool name.”
“It’s Italian and Portuguese in origin. I know, my heritage so obvious, right?
What with the blond hair and all.” He snorts.
“Dexter insisted we bleach our hair to distance ourselves from our father. His parents were from Brazil, and we both look like him. The dark hair was easier to get rid of than our noses.”
I poke my head out of the shower. “I couldn’t tell it wasn’t natural.”
He smiles cheekily. “That’s because we’re always doing our roots.” I go to wash my hair a second time, and he continues. “Dexter is Latin in origin. But based on who you ask, it means right-handed, or, what my mom clung to, favorable.”
The warm water runs down my back as I rinse my hair, my eyes slipping closed as I listen to Dario’s soothing voice.
“Upholder of the good and favorable. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that favorable can mean good in certain contexts.
From the moment I was born, I was tasked with propping up my brother.
After he got diagnosed with Autism at five, my mom was always looking to me to protect him.
I was the one who kept him on track. Who protected his peace. I have never once resented it.”
I turn off the shower and grab the towel left hanging on the rod. When I’m wrapped up and I step out, Dario is staring at me with sadness in his eyes.
“Never once have I resented him, Doc. Not until now.”
I freeze in place, unable to rip my eyes away from his intense gaze. “Why would you resent him now, and not then? It couldn’t have been easy growing up like that.”
A heavy sadness pulls his boyish features down.
“It wasn’t. I put him first every time. I was happy to do it, because he’s had his struggles, and I love my brother.
I want him to have a good life and make it easier, in whatever way I can.
And he says he’s going to get to know you, going to try to let go of his prejudices and fears, but what if he doesn’t?
” His voice is barely above a whisper. He stares pleadingly at me from his place on the floor, his eyes shiny.
“What if he doesn’t, and he can’t be with you, and I have to leave you too? ”
“You don’t even know me,” I say, though the words feel hollow. “You’d get over me eventually.”
Dario’s chuckle is sarcastic and breathy.
“No, I don’t think I would. I don’t know you that well…
yet. But I know enough to know that walking away from you would fucking ruin me.
” He pushes to his feet and hands me a neatly folded bundle of clothing.
“If you could find it in your heart, please give him a little leeway as he gets his bearings. Treat him like a wounded animal, because that’s what he is.
I don’t want him to run off and take me with him. ”
I swallow and accept the clothing. I can’t make eye contact with Dario, his words spinning in my head.
“Like calls to like,” I whisper, involuntarily pulling the clothes to my face and inhaling.
Kettle corn and fried dough.
Matteo and Quinton.
Dario’s strained voice interrupts my embarrassing sniffing of the clothing. “What do you mean?”
It takes a lot of effort, but I pull my head up so he can see the sincerity on my face. “I’m wounded, too. Maybe that’s all he needs to see, that I’m just as broken as he is, and I’m not going to force him into something he’s not ready for.”
“Maybe.” Hope lines Dario’s voice, and it nearly breaks my heart.
How am I going to leave these men in a few months when my contract is up? Staying around isn’t an option, is it? I was never supposed to stay here long term, and yet here is Dario proclaiming his need for me, and I have trouble denying that I long for him, too .
But I can’t think about that right now. Right now, I have to focus on surviving with my health and heart intact.
Dario leaves the bathroom so I can get dressed, and since Matteo and I aren’t too far off in height, the pants don’t fit me that badly. My thighs are thick enough to keep them up, even though the waist is a little baggy. Quinton’s shirt is big, but I love an oversized shirt.
Especially one that smells like powdered sugar.
In the main area of the trailer, crowded around the table and reclining on the couch, are the five men I was never supposed to meet.
Every single one of them is a feast for the eyes in a different way, and it’s hard not to devour them as if I were starved.
Jude, with his massive form, dark hair and eyes, and deep brown skin, looks like he could crush me between his thighs in the best way.
Quinton, with his cheeky grin and shaggy hair, looks like the boy my dad would slam the door in his face while I cry that I love him.
The twins are like mirror images of one another, if one of those mirrors peered into a different dimension.
Their features may be the same, but the way they wear them is so starkly contrasted that it’s almost possible to forget they’re related at all.
While Dario is sunshine, Dexter is a midnight storm.
And then there is Matteo, with his smooth skin and youthful face, his hair never out of place, and his smile always welcoming, who is a soothing balm on my weary soul.
“Hungry?” Matteo asks, grabbing a paper plate from the table. “I can make your plate.” He blushes as he looks down, as if he’s embarrassed that his caretaker nature is shining front and center .
Betas, in general, take care of the other designations. They keep Alphas level, and protect Omegas. It’s so important for packs to have Betas because sometimes those Alpha pheromones can be too much for the Omega, and they need someone to advocate for them.
“Sure.” All eyes in the room are on me, and they may as well be trailing their fingertips down my body for the effect it has on me. “Just an eggroll and maybe some plain rice to start?”
Matteo nods and dishes up my request, setting it on the table and pulling out the chair he had been sitting in before. “Sit, please.”
It’s so fucking quiet in here.
All of them are watching me take small bites of rice, as if my eating is the newest blockbuster movie. “S’good,” I say around a bite. With my words, all of them visibly relax and go back to their dinners.
The silence is thick in the air, but there isn’t much I can do about it. None of us knows where to go from here, least of all me.
“I’m not surprised we have an elephant in the room,” says Quinton jovially, “what with us being a circus and all.” Jude groans at the joke, and Dexter launches a balled up napkin at the other Alpha’s head. Quinton laughs and holds up his palms. “Tell me where I’m wrong and I’ll take it back.”
“You’re not wrong, you’re just an ass.” Matteo swoops down and kisses his Alpha on the cheek. The casual romantic gesture tugs at my heart.
Rich was never sweet like that to me. Even before, when I thought everything was wonderful, he wasn’t like that.
In retrospect, everything was transactional.
How did I miss that? I just assumed that was how relationships were, and I was happy with what he gave me.
My Omega nature didn’t seem to need more from him.
It does me no good to do it, but I can’t help but imagine what my life would be like if I had met these men first. Suppose I had attended a show before med school and found my scent match under the big top. Where would we be now if that were the case?
My food starts to stick in my throat, and before I can cough a second time, a can of soda water is being slid across the table to me. “It’s good for stomach issues,” Jude grunts, a soft pink glow on his cheeks.
I crack it open and take a small sip. “Thanks,” I tell him quietly. “I appreciate that.”
He waves me off and turns his attention back to his plate.