Chapter Twenty-One
Espie
The hallway behind us is dim when we stop at the threshold.
The kitchen beyond glows warm.
Lamplight pools across the table, and the pendant over the sink throws gold over the tiles. Beyond the window, the garden is sinking into dusk, the horizon bruised purple-blue.
The room smells of butter and garlic and something rich simmering beneath it. Gas hisses softly under Ezra's pot.
Aubrey's grip locks. His hesitation flares before it shows on his face.
The bond's only hours old and yet his emotions are a bright star.
He looks down at me, checking, and I lean into him, gripping his bicep with my free hand.
Our scents have layered. Clover. Gardenia.
A depth underneath that wasn't there before. There is no beginning nor end between him and me anymore, and I can’t find it within myself to care.
Ezra stands at the stove, stirring something that pulls saliva into my mouth.
Garlic. Herbs. His dark eyes find us, and his nostrils flare.
His whole body goes still. The spoon stops moving in the pot.
He draws in another breath, slow, deliberate.
His lips quirk and there’s heat in his gaze. Heat and need and longing.
I perfume. Just a little, because that look…
He shakes his head as though throwing off a thought. One short jerk. Sends a knowing look across the kitchen at Lex, at Kev, at Sera. Their nostrils flare too. They're scenting us, knowing what Aubrey and I have become to each other.
Aubrey's pulse jumps where our wrists press together. Then his clover lifts beside me. He's perfuming too. Reacting to my reacting. The bond tugs. His. Mine. His. Mine.
“Espie,” he breathes. Just my name. Anchor.
Lex’s gaze drops to the bare skin above my collarbone where his bite mark sits, then back up to my face. His throat bobs as he swallows.
The room turns heavy with three alpha scents going hot and the air around me grows close. The hairs lift on my arms. I shift toward Aubrey and he puts his arm around my shoulders.
“Hold it together,” Kev mutters under his breath.
Something passes between the four of them. Ezra's eyes flick to Kev. Kev's chin dips a fraction. Lex's hand opens and closes once at his side. Sera doesn't move. Whatever the signal is, they all read it.
Kev clears his throat. Loud. The sound jolts Ezra back into his body and then he grins at me. A real grin. Wide. He's pleased. He shouldn't be pleased. He's pleased. He turns back to the stove. The fridge hums in the wall behind him. As though there was nothing in that heavy moment.
I don't understand. They all know Aubrey and I bonded. Everything we did is written on us and they're not coming for us. They're standing there cooking. Shuffling on their feet. Setting a table. Trying to act like this isn’t a big thing. Like they like what we’ve become and… it's… endearing.
“I’ve made mushroom risotto,” Ezra fills the silence we’re not naming.
“I wasn't sure what you'd be in the mood for, but it's gentle on the stomach. Kev wanted to make steak, but I convinced him that might be too heavy for now. I haven’t forgotten about your barbecue, Aubrey.
Maybe next week. There's bread too, fresh from the oven, if you'd rather start with something simpler.”
His voice is easy. Unhurried. As though discerning that their scent-matched omegas have clearly bonded is just a part of his day.
And by not naming it, they’ve accepted it.
I glance up at Aubrey again. He’s watching the alphas.
There’s weight. Watchfulness, as much for him as me, but tension bleeds from his tense frame and when he looks down at me, he whispers, “They’re okay.
” He’s surprised, but also not, and I think that’s a good thing. “Are you good?”
And… I nod. Aubrey is watching out for me. For us. If he’s okay, then I am too.
A part of me wonders if I should be shocked. That I should be more autonomous. That already I shouldn’t rely on him as much as I am.
A frown creases his brow and he tucks his knuckle under my chin. “You know you’re everything to me and nothing in me regrets what we are to each other, don’t you?”
Everything. Light blooms inside me. He means it. He means it all the way through.
I swallow against the heat behind my eyes. “You’re everything to me too,” I whisper.
I press my cheek against his knuckle. I let him feel it through the bond instead. Yes. You. You. Yes. We're holding each other up. There's no other way to do this. Neither of us can stand alone.
Lex clears his throat. His eyes are too bright. “If you’re thirsty, there's seventeen different kinds of juice because Kev panic-bought the entire grocery store yesterday. He got four kinds of orange juice today alone. Four. I didn't even know there were four kinds.”
A small laugh tries to climb my throat. I keep it back. Aubrey's mouth twitches and a warm bright pulse spreads inside me.
Kev stands near the counter, arms crossed over his broad chest, his whole body angled toward us. He's watching openly, his dark eyes tracking our entrance, and he's given up any pretense of doing anything else.
“If you're uncomfortable here, we can always bring your dinner up to your room.” He clears his throat. “Whatever you want. Whatever you need. Just tell us.”
Just tell us.
I don't know what to do with that. I don't know how to want a thing out loud.
“Down here's good,” Aubrey lifts his head and I shuffle closer to him.
I nod. “We… want to be here.”
Kev's jaw loosens. “Good. That’s… really good.”
Sera sits at the table, a glass of wine in front of her, her phone face-down beside it. The lamplight catches the rim of the glass and turns the wine the color of garnet. She's slightly apart, larger gaps around her than the other chairs.
Her gaze finds mine. Holds. The need is there and so is the want. I'm caught. I can't look away. My breath stops short as I perfume. Aubrey looks down at me and then his gaze slides to Sera and his own clover perfumes the air the way mine just did.
Ezra makes a strangled sound and turns away from us, his back going stiff. Lex sets a napkin down very carefully. Sera's looking right at me. Then her gaze slides to Aubrey.
“Hey, angel,” she says, soft. Sera's eyes touch the mark and lift away, careful, no lingering.
Pink crawls up his neck. His thigh presses harder against mine. His hand stays in mine, but his gaze stays on Sera. There’s something magical about her and it’s reeling both of us in. They’re all reeling us in.
All of the alphas are scent-matched to Aubrey and I, and they’ve held themselves back for days while Aubrey and I have had each other.
I’m the first to admit touch has helped the both of us, but they haven’t had that comfort.
They’ve given us space. Time. Given us what we’ve needed without a thought to themselves.
A twinge of guilt slides under my ribs and lodges there.
“Please sit,” Kev says. His voice is gentle. Careful. “We don’t want…” He takes a deep inhale. “We just want to be near you.”
They are being so careful. As though they think we might shatter, which, to be fair, hasn’t been far from the truth. Aubrey rests beside me, close enough that our thighs press together, the heat of him bleeding through fabric. I can do this. With him, I can do this.
Someone put flowers on the table. Purple and white and green, arranged in a small ceramic vase. There’s salad. Garlic bread in a basket. Plates set out. Cutlery laid straight. So… ordinary. Thoughtful.
Ezra sets a glass of water near my elbow. “In case you're thirsty. The risotto's rich, so water helps. I'd offer wine but I don't think it would be good for your system just yet.”
“Thank you, Ezra,” Aubrey says quietly, a pulse of Aubrey’s awareness steals into me.
Ezra's bright gaze drifts over both of us before he moves away. The vice between my shoulder blades eases. Not much. A bit.
He brings the risotto out in a big ceramic bowl. Steam rises and threads up. Parmesan is thick in the air. My stomach makes a sound I can't suppress.
“There's plenty, so don't be shy. Kev's already tried to steal a few bites while I was cooking, so consider this your warning that he has no restraint around carbs,” Ezra says.
“I have excellent restraint,” Kev says as he takes a seat. “I waited until you weren't looking.”
“You waited until you thought I wasn't looking. I have peripheral vision, Kev.”
Ezra slides the salad to Kev. His hand lands briefly on Kev's shoulder, a squeeze of wordless thanks. Lex refills Ezra's water, and a moment later, Ezra tops up Lex's wine. I'm staring. Lex's eyes lift and meet mine across the table. He gives me a soft smile and a small nod toward my plate.
Eat.
Aubrey lifts his spoon. Takes a bite. He moans. Every alpha at the table stills. Kev's hand stops halfway to the bread basket. Lex's shoulders go rigid. Ezra's jaw twitches. Sera's wine glass pauses an inch from her mouth.
“Glad you like it,” Lex says.
“I do. This is delicious,” Aubrey says, oblivious to their reaction or pretending to be. He swallows another bite.
“Then I’m glad,” Ezra smiles and my heart gives a little kick because Ezra is handsome.
Kev shakes himself. The whole shoulders-and-head shake. He picks up his spoon. Picks up his bread. Starts eating like the front of his jeans isn't tenting beneath the table. That would have to be so uncomfortable. But then again, it’s there because of us.
The risotto hits my tongue and my body breaks open around it. Saliva floods my mouth. Ezra’s risotto is delicious. Creamy. Rich. Warm. Aubrey's thigh stays pressed against mine, his pleasure a slow steady warmth under my ribs.
“What do you think of my risotto, Espie?” Ezra asks, his intense gaze trained on me as though there aren’t five other people at the table.
His gaze is intense, but also a little unsure. As though my answer matters to him. And I want to make him feel good. “I like it.” My words aren’t much but Ezra beams.
“That’s good. That’s really good.” His voice is thick.
There’s a moment of awkwardness around the table, and I feel myself start to crumble when Lex speaks. “Did you know that garlic bread is absolutely not a vegetable? I don't care how you try to rationalize it.”
“It has garlic in it.” Kev tears a piece of bread in half and gestures with it for emphasis. “Garlic grows in the ground. Things that grow in the ground are vegetables. Ergo, garlic bread contains vegetables and therefore has nutritional value.”
“That's not how nutrition works. That's not how anything works. By that logic, cocaine is a vegetable because coca leaves grow in the ground.”
“That's not the same thing and you know it.”
My chest loosens by a notch. Aubrey's amusement laps at the edges of my ribs. Every alpha in the room eases with us.
We matter. We really do matter to them.
Sera snorts into her wine. “This is genuinely the dumbest argument I've ever witnessed, and I once watched two patrol officers debate whether a hot dog was a sandwich for forty-five minutes.”
“What do you think, Espie?” she adds, voice light. “Vegetable or not?”
“Um. Vegetable,” I manage. She sends me a bright smile as though I’ve done something momentous.
Kev slides a section of garlic bread on my plate and winks at me. I pick up the slice and bite into the buttery goodness.
“I have a degree in literature,” Lex replies. “I have read Foucault. I have taught Derrida. I am not wrong about whether garlic bread is a vegetable.”
Beyond the kitchen window, the garden's gone dark. A porch light somewhere outside throws a soft yellow square against the glass. The kitchen's bright. We're inside the bright part.
I’ve eaten half a bowl but it’s all I can manage and I don’t want to be sick.
Aubrey isn’t much different, but Ezra speaks as though they’re not waiting for us to push any more food down.
“There's a movie night tradition in this house after a carb-laden meal. Usually involves bad action films, too much popcorn, and Kev falling asleep twenty minutes in and then claiming he was awake the whole time.”
“I don't fall asleep,” Kev says. “I rest my eyes. There's a difference.”
Lex rolls his eyes. “It means he has no say in movie choice.”
Ezra glances at us, at Aubrey pressed against my side, at our fingers linked. “Please say you’ll stay and watch a movie with us. Or not. You can go back upstairs, have more alone time, whatever feels right. The offer's there, but there's zero pressure attached to it.”
“What would you like to do, Espie?” Aubrey says.
I think about it. A movie. A couch. Something normal.
“I'd like to watch a movie,” I tell him.
“That's settled. I'll make popcorn,” Kev says, already pushing back from the table. “Fair warning, I make a truly unreasonable amount of popcorn. It's a problem.”
“It really is a problem,” Ezra agrees, getting up to gather plates.
“Any preferences? Classic action? Modern action? Action that's so bad it loops back around to being good?” Lex asks.
The alphas snap into motion as though someone fired a starter pistol.
We stand and Sera takes a step back. A frown crosses Aubrey’s brow. “You’ll be here too, Sera?”
She stills, and again I catch that surprise on her face before she schools the expression. “If you’d like me to, then yes?”
Aubrey nods, and so I do.
Because I want her here too.
It would feel wrong without her.