35. Sterling #2
“And the rest of your pantry—if you can even call that meager starvation stash a pantry—was pretty much consumed during your heat. Though the frozen cinnamon roll would have been really good right now.” He sends another pointed look at Cass.
Cass shrugs unapologetically. “You ever seen her eat a cinnamon roll during heat? Worth it.”
They’re bickering playfully, moving around the kitchen like they’ve lived here forever. I always thought living with someone would feel overwhelming. I’ve been so used to expecting that anyone who got close to me would want something—would try to change things.
But they don’t. They just…fit. Like they were the missing piece in the ambiance of my house, and now the home that always felt like something was missing finally feels like it’s supposed to.
“I’ll make a grocery list later.” I slide into a seat at the kitchen island. “Assuming I can motivate myself enough to get dressed fully, let alone find paper and my fine motor skills by then.”
Cass gives me a wolfish grin. “Want us to carry you to the couch?”
“No.”
“Yes,” Quinn says at the same time.
I groan as Cass sweeps me into his arms anyway.
I expect to be carried like some delicate flower, but he slings me over his shoulder with a playful smack to my ass, and I yelp.
“Cass!”
He chuckles darkly. “What? You said you were sore. This saves your legs.”
I hear Quinn laughing behind us, and JP’s quiet exhale of amusement. And maybe I shouldn’t be glowing from it. Maybe I should be hiding or recovering or processing.
But all I want is to be here with them.
Cass drops me onto the couch with way too much smug satisfaction, and Quinn flops down beside me, tugging me into his lap before I can adjust. I sit in a weird version of a princess carry hold, with my ass firmly nestled between his legs and my face inches away from his.
“God, you’re warm.” He buries his face in my neck. “And you smell like us…makes me forget why I’m supposed to not want to be inside you again.”
His kisses meander up my neck until his tongue slips along the shell of my ear, and the hot pulse of heat in my core sends my senses spinning.
“That’s because I’ve been marinating in Alpha scent and slick for days,” I murmur. “I think it’s soaked into my pores.”
“Good,” Cass says, dropping down on my other side. “We plan on keeping you.”
It’s said so nonchalantly, I have to ask him to repeat his words to make sure I heard them correctly. In response, he pulls me into his lap so my feet are resting in Quinn’s lap, snuggled up to the hard length straining against his shorts—and I’m nestled in Cass’s arms.
He wraps his arms around me, and with one hand, he takes my chin and turns my face to look him in the eyes.
“I said, little songbird, that. We. Want. To. Keep. You.”
Each word is punctuated by a kiss.
The elated feeling takes flight in my chest, fluttering like wings beating against my ribcage. Daring to dream that he means what I hope he means. That this—whatever this is—isn’t temporary. That maybe I’m not just some complication they’ll eventually grow tired of.
I curl my knees up slightly, nestling my feet deeper between Quinn’s legs and sinking deeper into Cass’s lap, resting my head against his broad shoulder.
“I don’t want to lose this,” I admit quietly. “I don’t want to wake up and find out it was temporary.”
Cass wraps his arms tighter around me. “It’s not temporary, beautiful girl.”
“You’re stuck with us now,” Cass adds. “Hope you like pancakes. And fishing. And probably going to every aquarium Blake can talk you into.”
I giggle, despite the lump forming in my throat. “I…really like you guys. All of you.”
The words don’t feel like enough—not for the depth of feeling steadily growing inside me. But it’s the most neutral, least terrifying version of what I’m actually feeling, so I let it hang there.
I guess a weird side effect of heat is the emotional wave that keeps tossing you around even after the desperate need to be knotted starts to fade. I feel strong and powerful and incredibly vulnerable all at the same time.
My eyes flick from Cass to Quinn, and then to JP…
who’s still looking at me like he did in that chair.
I remember him then—raw, open, tortured—and I don’t break eye contact now either.
I can’t. He sucks me in. That stare is like gravity.
Heavy. Loaded. But there’s something unspoken in it too, something I can’t quite reach.
“JP…” I start, my voice quieter than I mean it to be.
He doesn’t respond. His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t look away either. He just holds my gaze like it’s the only thing anchoring him in place.
I want to say more. I want to ask if he regrets staying. If he’ll ever join me in the nest like the others. If I scared him off. But he’s not ready. I can feel it deep in my bones. And I won’t push.
So instead, I pull in a deep breath and shift the tone. Light. Breezy. Casual—despite the lingering ache between my legs and the emotional tightrope I’ve been walking all morning.
“I do have about a hundred emails and four days’ worth of lesson plans to update,” I sigh dramatically, letting my head fall back against Cass’s shoulder with a groan. “So I’m kicking you all out by noon.”
Cass chuckles behind me, nuzzling into my neck. “You sure? We could stick around. Keep you distracted.”
“Very distracted,” Quinn adds, his hand still lazily rubbing my thigh like he hasn’t gotten the memo yet.
I swat at both of them, laughing. “No, really. Out. All of you. I need to be a responsible adult for like five hours before I crash again.”
Quinn groans theatrically. “You’re so cruel.”
Cass kisses the top of my head. “Fine. But we’re raiding your fridge before we go.”
“Good luck with that,” I snort. “Unless you want to fight over my last yogurt cup and a questionable box of mac and cheese.”
JP finally speaks then, voice low. “We’ll go. But only if you promise to text if you need anything.”
His words land heavier than they should; he’s trying to say more without saying it.
I nod, giving him the softest smile I can manage. “I will. Promise.”
I mean it.
Cass groans. “You wound me up.”
“I’ll make it up to you,” I promise, voice soft. “Later.”
“Hot damn,” Quinn says. “I’m holding you to that.”
They help me to my feet and start gathering their things while making jokes about grocery shopping and nesting supplies. I can hear them in the other room arguing over what kind of snacks to buy while JP disappears out the back door.
But I decide to follow him, opening the door into the backyard, drawn by the quietness. Besides, it’s my favorite spot to drink my coffee.
I find him sitting on the edge of the porch with his elbows on his knees, staring out at the trees. The light is soft against his face, and for a second, I just watch him.
Then I take a step forward. “Hey.”
He glances back, his expression unreadable. “You okay?”
I nod. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”
He doesn’t respond right away. The silence stretches between us. I move closer, wrapping my arms around myself.
“I wish you’d been there,” I say softly, meeting his eyes. “But I understand if you can’t be. No strings. No expectations.” And I mean it. I really do. Honestly, I’d take JP in any capacity he’s willing to be in my life.
I don’t know if he’s my scent match—not yet. Not until the suppressants are fully out of my system. My senses are still foggy. But I do know this—my Omega wants him. Craves him. Feels drawn to him in a way that defies reason.
His jaw clenches. “No, beautiful?—”
But I’m not deterred. I need to say this. For me.
“Next time…” I begin, pretending I didn’t hear the way his voice cracked. “Next time, I want you there. With me. In the nest.” I swallow hard. “If that’s something you want. You don’t have to answer me. I just needed you to know that.”
He gives me that look—the one that’s been turning me inside out since the moment we met. The one that makes my breath catch and my heart stutter. And I’m no closer to understanding what’s going on behind those eyes than I was on day one.
But I hold his gaze anyway. I think I’m getting really good at eye contact.
I turn to leave, giving him space—giving me space—when he moves. Fast.
All 6’5” of him towers over me, overwhelming in the most delicious way. My breath catches.
Before I can take another step, he’s there—crowding me gently into the doorframe. His broad shoulders block everything else out. His hands rise to bracket either side of my head, keeping me still. Keeping me his.
His gaze locks onto mine, dark and unreadable. And then—slowly, sensually—his hands trail downward, skimming along my body until they rest heavy on my hips.
It’s not rough. Not possessive.
Just firm. Claiming.
He leans in, brushing his nose along my neck, breathing me in. I tremble, caught in the moment.
Then he scent-marks me—slow and deliberate. Cheek to cheek. Jaw to neck.
I’m panting by the time he pulls back. Every nerve on fire and my heart pushing the upper limits of its ability.
“You need to get used to hearing ‘not yet,’ Omega,” he says, his voice low and rough.
Then he kisses me—chaste, lingering, full of restraint—and steps back.
But the way he looks at me? There’s no hiding the hunger. The claim.
He walks past me, heading back inside.
I don’t feel rejected this time.
I feel chosen.
Even if he’s not ready now, he’s mine.
I stand on the porch, staring out at my backyard for a long time, willing my body to calm down.
JP scent-marked me.
And I know I didn’t mishear him.
“Not yet.”
Those words echo through me like a warning and a promise. A door not quite shut. My skin still tingles where his nose skimmed my throat, where his mouth barely brushed mine.
When I finally feel steady enough to go back inside, it’s to find JP already gone.
But Cass and Quinn? They’re still here—hovering in the living room like they’re trying desperately to come up with a reason to stay. Like they’re hoping I’ll say I need them here.
But I nudge Cass and Quinn toward the door with promises of texts and grocery lists and that I won’t collapse the second they leave.
They groan and grumble and kiss me goodbye like they’ll never see me again, and my heart aches in a way that feels…good.
Once the door shuts behind them, I grab my phone and text Daisy:
Sterling: Hey. Friday. Danver’s?
Daisy: Hell yes!
Sterling: 8?
Daisy: Yes…Are we celebrating? Or moping?
Sterling:???
Dasia: I just want to know what the flavor of the evening is so I can pick my outfit.
Sterling: LOL I don’t know how to answer that…
Daisy: alright ill surprise you..
Sterling: I feel like I should be afraid…
I set my phone down and laugh…What do I feel? Hah, I don't even know!