19. Alone
Alone
COOPER
I woke up alone. Panic prickled my skin and sweated my armpits when I looked around the empty motel room.
“Jon?”
My protector was gone, and there was a wild world waiting outside the door, ready to tear me apart.
My chest tightened until breathing became a struggle.
I could smell my own fear in the air. I tried to cling to a small voice of logic that told me this must be an Omega thing and I wasn’t really in danger, but I felt powerless against the panic.
“Jon!”
Heart racing, I scrambled out of bed. I grabbed the first thing I saw—his discarded T-shirt on the chair—and pulled it over me.
Then I snatched his hoodie and frantically pulled it over my head too, before crawling back under the blankets.
His scent wrapped around me, but it was just a ghost, not enough to stop the terror creeping into my bones.
I cocooned myself in soft layers, clutching the sleeve of his hoodie to my face.
Still wrong. Still not enough. Still not safe.
A helpless whimper got stuck in my throat.
“Jon,” I whispered into the dark cotton.
The door flew back against the wall with a heavy crack. Jon burst across the threshold, holding a paper bag. He scanned the room until he spotted me wearing his clothes like armor and clutching the monkey. His expression changed from fierce to tender in a heartbeat.
“Hey,” he said, closing the door behind him. “What happened?”
I peeked out from under the mountain of fabric, blinking rapidly.
“You left,” I said. It came out accusing and small—like I was nine, not nineteen.
Jon set the bag down.
“I was gone for five minutes,” he said carefully. “To get breakfast from the lobby.”
“You still left.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. “You didn’t wake me,” I added, the last word cracking. “I woke up, and you were gone!”
“I didn’t want to wake you,” he said. “You were finally sleeping properly. You looked so peaceful.”
“I don’t care,” I said, my fingers knotting in the hem of his hoodie. “I don’t want to sleep if you’re not here. I felt like my world was—was breaking down.”
I let out a pathetic little sniff.
“Cooper . . .”
His voice had changed. It spoke to me on a cellular level, a magnetic pull that I couldn’t resist. If I could wear his voice, I would. I would wrap it around me and never take it off.
“Come here,” he said. I didn’t hesitate. My arms wrapped around his waist as I buried my face in his chest. The moment my skin hit his, the panic evaporated. My whole body went soft in his arms.
“Better?” he asked, kissing my temple and stroking my hair.
I shook my head against his chest. “I don’t like it when you’re gone. The air smells wrong. The room feels too big.” I tightened my grip on his shirt, getting agitated again. “It’s all wrong.”
His chest rose under my cheek, his heart thudding a heavy rhythm. “I know, Coop,” he whispered. “Leaving you wasn’t easy, but I woke up with an urge to get you food.”
I melted into him, a soft purr vibrating in my chest. “You brought me food?” I mumbled into his shirt.
“I did,” he said, his breath stirring my hair. He sounded adorably proud of himself.
“You’re like a caveman,” I teased.
He chuckled. “I don’t know about that. I just hit the pastry cart in the lobby.”
I nuzzled closer to his neck, trying to let my scent bleed into the air between us. Judging from the way his nostrils flared, I succeeded. “I want to go back to bed,” I murmured, grinding myself against him.
“Cooper.”
I hummed, looking up at him through my lashes, totally unbothered. “Yeah?”
“We should keep going. We’re already a day behind schedule,” he said, but he was clearly struggling. I could feel how hard he was against me. I pressed myself even closer.
“But I need you,” I pouted.
His jaw ticked as he fought for control. “Stop looking at me like that.”
I blinked up at him. “I’m not doing anything. I just—I need my Alpha.”
He tried to take a step back, to create distance, but his hands stayed on my waist. “You’re seducing me.”
“So? Do you have to consult your informative Wikipedia page?” I asked, rising on my tiptoes until our lips were touching. I licked the corner of his mouth, enjoying the ragged curse he made. “If you can’t handle your Omega in heat . . .”
His hand slid from my back to my waist, fingers digging into my hip, and his other hand tilted my chin up.
“I can handle you just fine,” he growled. Then he backed me up against the motel door.