11. Chapter 11
Adrian
I’ve been curled up in my nest for twenty-four hours, soothing myself in Leo’s scent.
But it’s only made it worse. Knowing his scent will fade from the nest with time, my chest tears open with an ache I fear will rend me in two.
I rub my tear-stained face up and down the soft material of one of his hoodies anyway.
He smells so fucking good. Why did he have to smell this good?
His smell reminds me of seawater and neoprene—the best goddamn smell in the world.
I remember ditching school one day to surf—the swell had been incredible, fourteen to fifteen second intervals, consistently pumping overhead, sometimes double overhead.
The sharp drop off about fifty kilometres out from Hollow Point gives those wave trains a final surge of power, pushing the water up against the headland so it peels into this perfect long wave.
I’d been surfing for hours when I spotted Leo in his school uniform on the beach.
I’d paddled, dropped in, sped along the face before launching out the end of it and riding the whitewash into shore.
Leo’s grin was unmistakable, even from a distance. I ran up to him, breathless and beaming.
“It’s been pumping all day. Can’t believe you went to school,” I said to him as I tried to catch my breath.
His cheeks tinged with red as he ducked his head and mumbled, “I had that English test.”
Oh, right, which meant I had an English test too. “Whoops,” I said, and sucked in more air around a sheepish smile.
He laughed and met my eyes again, sending butterflies hammering in my stomach. I’d wondered if that was ever going to stop or if I was destined to feel this giddy amazing-awful feeling around my best friend forever now.
“Here,” Leo said and swung his backpack over his shoulder. He rifled around and produced two cafeteria-wrapped muffins—blueberry and chocolate chip—and a chocolate milk.
“Oh, man,” I said and took them immediately. “You’re my hero. Thank you!”
Leo shrugged. His, “You’re welcome,” was mumbled, and yet I could smell how happy he was.
“Seriously, I could legit kiss you right now,” I said, amped on adrenaline from the surf, from his presence. I meant it, but shit, did I have to go and be that forward?
Leo’s scent intensified—the saltiness of sea spray hitting me in the face—and his blush deepened, lips parting.
“Umm,” he said and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, that’s, umm—”
“How was the test?” I asked quickly, hoping to save us both from me.
Leo frowned and didn’t say anything for a few seconds.
I focused on unwrapping a muffin. His voice, when he started telling me about it, was hesitant and distracted at first, but gained steam as he recited all the ways he was pretty sure he’d correctly comprehended the meaning behind a passage from The Catcher in the Rye they’d had to analyse.
I knew he’d get it right and told him as much.
His answering smile had been so grateful, I remember I had to look away, or I would’ve kissed him for sure.
We sat on the beach, regarding the lineup, the wave, and got into a running commentary on all the surfers who were out.
We knew most of them—all adults and regulars.
At sixteen, I was the youngest out that day, but the old boys were used to me.
They liked to razz me as I took on monsters that were honestly testing my size and skill set, but I hadn’t wiped out that day, so I got a lot of approving nods and smiles too.
“When I saw it when I got up, I couldn’t believe it,” I said to Leo as I washed down the last of the blueberry muffin with a swig of choc milk.
The winter air was crisp, and I was starting to shiver in my wetsuit.
Leo produced a towel from his bag and wrapped me up without a word.
It’d been a rote gesture. I’d barely even noticed it at the time, just had the usual warmth fill me, something I’d loved but had also come to expect.
Leo had nodded for me to keep going, also a gesture I’d gotten used to.
“Like, you know how waves form from those massive storms out there, right?” I gestured with the choc chip muffin at the water, the ocean stretching until it disappeared over the horizon.
“This must’ve been a ripper. Wave trains are just like, escaped energy from the heavy seas of a storm, and to think, they travel thousands of miles to get to us and then this—” I gestured again at the wave still breaking consistently, beautifully, in front of us.
I glanced at Leo and he was watching me, not the wave, a small crease between his eyebrows, but not like he was annoyed, like he was concentrating. It made me blush. I used to go on and on about surfing back then. But he smiled, and it’d been so fond, so damn interested.
“So, you’re always waiting for a storm you’ll never see.”
The memory is so vivid—the wind tussling his shaggy hair, the maroon jumper with the gold crest of our school on his chest, the crinkle of his eyes and the way he’d said that with his warm smile.
He’d said it like me waiting on an unseen storm was genuinely interesting.
Like I was interesting. Me. Not as an omega, but as a person.
“Adrian.” Benji’s booming voice comes from my room and yanks me back to the cramped confines of my walk-in robe.
I struggle up, stumbling as I get my feet under me. I’m woozy, sluggish.
“I’m here,” I say and stagger into my room.
Benji turns, looks me up and down. He lifts his head and inhales deeply.
He nods as if confirming something to himself.
Benji’s not the worst alpha here, not even the worst to look at—he’s got the build and look of a boxer, the intellect of someone who probably failed school out of disinterest, and I’d hardly call him nice, but he’s not a complete asshole.
And when he fucked me, he was perfunctory about it, which was better than some of the more sadistic alphas around here.
The ones who didn’t shut up, hell-bent on exercising their inner demons by calling us filthy names, and getting off on commanding us, belittling us.
“Good,” Benji says. “You’ll be ready to auction tonight. That came on fast, eh? I’ll get it up on the website.”
My mouth drops open. I stopped the suppressants yesterday and I was already going into heat? But he’s right. I’m hot, my body’s loose, and a subtle ache is beginning inside me, the demand for a knot.
Benji doesn’t wait for me to reply. He’s gone while I continue to stand there, revulsion filling me. How am I going to let someone else touch me after Leo?
Leo. Of course. It’s his scent. I’ve been breathing him in non-stop since stopping my suppressants. He’s sent me into heat way faster than normal.
My legs give out and I sink to the floor. Leo is not going to be the one taking me through this heat. Some other alpha is going to …
I retch, scramble to my feet and race for the toilet. Heaving up the contents of my stomach—water and a bread roll Tristan had insisted I eat—my mind casts around desperately for a way to stop time.
Some other alpha is going to fuck me in heat tonight. And that’s just the beginning. It’ll go on for days. It’s not my first time, but it is the first time since Leo has touched me and I can’t do it.
Oh, God. I land on my ass on the cracked tiles. I can’t do it. How am I going to get out of it? My eyes dart around the bathroom, looking for a way out. All the windows are too high, and they look like they’re soldered to their frames. No escape there. I know this. I’ve thought this before.
The front door? And then what? Where do I go? And how do I explain the swallow tattoo on the back of my hand—the mark of an omega in service to a brothel.
Panic claws up my throat. I drop my head between my knees and try to breathe.
The heat is coming on fast. They used to come on fast when I was in high school.
I have hazy memories of Leo pacing in front of the nurse’s office at school before my alpha picked me up, took me home, and locked me in my nest in the attic with a pallet of water bottles and a shopping bag full of protein bars.
Since I’ve been here, they’ve come on slow when I stop my suppressants, my body repelling the need as much as my mind.
But Benji’s right—I’ll be more than ready to go by tonight. And there’s no way I’ll be in any condition to walk out of here in the hours between now and then.
Going into heat here means I’ll be auctioned off to the highest bidder. Going into heat on the streets means anything could happen—some random alpha could grab me in that state, use me, share me. I can’t guarantee, stinking like I do, that I’d be able to make it to Leo’s place in time.
Cammie said he spoke to him. What had he said?
“He understands. He’s upset, but he’ll stay away. Don’t worry, he’s safe.”
He’s safe. I hold onto that like a lifeline. That’s the main thing—Leo is safe.
I choke on a sob, and the sound reverberates around the tiled walls.
I’ve never been more grateful for Erasmus’s penchant for cocaine than I am tonight. I did three lines while Tristan did his best to make my face presentable. Cammie stood by for moral support but looked increasingly sick with how quickly my control was spooling away from me.
I was already wet, sweating, and wriggling around like I couldn’t sit still.
But discomforted or not, it’d been Cammie who’d gripped my shoulder, met my eyes, and said firmly, “It’s going to be all right.”
A hysterical laugh bubbled up as I swayed in his hold.
It most certainly wasn’t going to be all right, but I tried to nod for his benefit.
Cammie hasn’t done this yet, and while I’m hardly the first omega he’s seen in this position, I am the first he’s probably seeing on the verge of a nervous breakdown while also simultaneously so desperate for my alpha’s cock I could cry.
I smile as best I can. He grimaces at me. Well, I tried.