27. Rosie
Chapter 27
Rosie
I ’m officially moist. Even thinking about the word makes me gag at the mental imagery it brings up. Sweaty. Nasty. Blah.
Almost two hours into this home rescue mission, I’ve never felt more gross. The air is swamp thick from all the flooding. I wipe my brow before jamming the last of the drawer’s contents into the suitcase I wrangled from the hall closet. Contorting myself into a pretzel, I get the zip mostly closed.
Almost done.
Dane follows Nash out of the bathroom, the two deep in conversation about the prospects of the Knotty Pines High School football team in the upcoming Spring Fling game. They each carry several big trash bags I stuffed with things from my waterlogged closet.
Spoiler alert: Nash has a tool belt, and Dane is shirtless. To no one’s surprise, this has made me a needy-ass hussy .
Inappropriate? Yes. Inevitable? Also yes.
As is my clandestine mission. But a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do when she has a drawerful of fantasy dildos. I steal the opportunity to stash my toys in the laundry basket, underneath some dry clothes and the contents of my underwear drawer. My purse, charger, laptop, and drawing tablet all get tossed on top.
There is zero need for these men to see my nipple clamps or my thongs this morning. I’ve hit my limit of bizarre events for the day, and it isn’t even seven in the morning. I survey my room and realize I’ve run out of excuses.
The guys have been busy following my every move. Furniture has been removed, sheets and rugs stripped, and piles made of things beyond salvage. While I’d definitely like a shower and to never get near this much sweat again, I also don’t know if I’m ready for what this empty room means. My nerves flare up over my grandma, as well as the reality of my current situation.
Seriously, what timeline am I in right now? I’m pretty sure I just agreed to move in with my scent-matched pack.
Whoever said kissing doesn’t lead to babies had never been kissed by Nash Wells. Thank the gods for my birth control shot because one kiss and I lost my damn mind dreaming of bonds and bites. Heck, when the omega, Quinn, sniffed me, I almost offered myself up like a present. And then Dane freaking Daniels kissed me! After I told him he had a smolder and basically asked him to use it?
Sixteen-year-old me is having a dance party, fully committing to the rose-colored glasses that these men are my happily ever after. She and my libido have formed an alliance intent on destroying the last of my defenses, but I’m not convinced that this isn’t a recipe for heartbreak. How will we ever coexist in this town or find common ground as a pack? Besides scents, what the heck makes us compatible?
Despite my doubts, every version of me can admit these men talk a good game. Too bad I have to bet my heart to find out if it’s the real deal.
I tuck the laundry basket under my arm and head down the stairs toward a very uncertain future.
The sight of Nash in his tool belt coming my way makes me lose my footing, and I brace myself against the wall but lose the laundry basket. My shit goes flying, my poor tablet whacking against the banister.More stuff tumbles out, and my brain sounds the alarm, sending my body into high alert. My sex toys are about to fuck me—and not in a good way.
Sure enough, the gag gift the girls at work got me is the culprit. The rainbow mushroom dildo with a fat knot flops down the stairs before the suction cup grabs hold and makes it slap upright. It bounces like one of those dashboard bobbles, and I hear the gong sound effect in my head.
My soul leaves my body.
I've always wondered if it was possible to die of embarrassment, and now I know. This is Rosie B, reporting live from the afterlife, here to tell you the mortification never ends.
Nash’s grin is the one the cat gives the caught mouse. “It’s like you can’t help giving me accidental gifts, Rosie-girl.” He bends to scoop up a pair of cherry-red undies that spell “juicy” on the ass before grabbing the dildo and flopping it around. “Care to explain these, or did you want me to work off the fantasy? Because this knotted beauty right here is giving me ideas."
I decide that ghost me is going to ignore reality. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That's a collectible mushroom statue.” I grab my tablet and do an internal victory dance that the screen is unharmed before collecting the laundry basket.
“The fantasy option it is.” Nash chuckles and stuffs my panties in his back pocket, his grin so wide I can see teeth. “I think you’ll regret that choice, baby.”
I pretend I didn’t see him do that while he helps me collect my other unmentionables, making these amused sounds the entire time. When he hands me my teddy bear— his bear —my heart stops.
“I can’t wait to learn all your secrets. These have certainly been enlightening.” He presses too close, the laundry basket smooshing me, his balmy scent everywhere.
Fiddling with his ball cap in his signature move makes his biceps flex and draws attention to the colorful maze of tattoos there. I want to understand them and know the story behind each one.
I know he’s caught me mid-gawk when his lips twitch, but he doesn’t call me out on it for once. “Dane and I are gonna head out to grab some supplies. We need to get up the flooring and air this out, or we’ll have a mold problem.”
Hearing his name, Dane pops around the corner at the bottom of the stairs and jogs our way, chugging a water bottle.
How is anyone that coordinated? I can barely breathe and look at the two of them at the same time. Clearly.
Dane lands on the step below me, his bare chest right there.
“Don’t you own a shirt?” I ask, immediately regretting my malfunctioning filter. I want a refund because it goes on the fritz every time he’s around.
But seriously. This man is distracting enough without always being half-naked.
“Seems to me like his lack of shirt is working to our advantage.” Nash’s deep laugh sounds behind me, and I glare at him, willing him to say one more damn word right now.
Dane looks as though I’ve given his ego an unnecessary boost but doesn’t comment on my outburst. “We’ll catch up with you and Quinn later. First, we need to get some work done. At least get some fans down to start drying it all out.”
I’m caged between them on the stairs, my tongue trying to remember how to form words that won’t backfire. Their scents make that difficult because my instincts are currently warring with me to lick them.
Nash lifts his brow, his voice full of amusement. “Does that work?”
“Rosie?” Bambi saves me before I can embarrass myself further.
I nod at the two of them and squeeze past, scrambling away from the cause of my scent-induced libido haze.
Downstairs, I find my best friend and three of the guys from her pack. “What are you doing here? I thought you were coming to the hospital.”
Bambi shrugs, sipping from a travel mug. “I figured I could come here and grab loads to get washing. The guys came to help.”
Dane and Nash join us, calling out hellos.
Vance, Bambi’s beta mate, brushes past me. “Hang in there.”
The huge beta dabs up with Nash and Dane, and it’s clear they know each other, all three of them animatedly chatting.
Bambi returns my questioning look. “Football. He played with them.”
I knew that, but my brain is not braining currently. It’s as if the past and present have come together and broken the space-time continuum.
Vance introduces his pack and Bambi.
She takes the invitation as an opportunity, warning both Nash and Dane, “If you hurt her, I’ll come for you. I know my way around sharp objects. Got it?”
Nash doesn’t laugh, his tone serious. “If I hurt her, I’ll let you.”
Just like that, Bambi flips a switch and turns back to sunshine, a bright smile crossing her face. “Great.”
I try my luck at becoming invisible as another layer of unreal melds itself into this weird day.
“All right, now that we’ve cleared that up, put us to work,” Jace says, clapping his hands. “I saw bags stashed on the porch. Can we take those?”
That gets people moving while I stand around, trying not to tear up again.
Andre, who looks like the prototype for a badass biker but is actually a sweetheart, gives me a knowing look. “Sorry to hear about Ms. Lily, but if you need anything, we've got you covered, including a room at the house.”
Well, shit, there goes any hope of not tearing up. “Thank you. Truly. I’m going to stay next door for now and keep an eye on things.”
Bambi’s mouth gapes. She loops her arm through mine, tugging me toward the front door. “Guys, if you can load all the stuff on the porch, I’m just gonna go check out her new digs.”
Her two alphas chuckle because we all know that’s code for “I’m about to interrogate Rosie.”
We make it halfway across the yard before she stops. “Girl, what? I need details!”
I hesitate, hiking the laundry basket up on my side again and looking at the house next door. “See, what had happened was…”
“You slept with Nash, and you’re moving in!” she whisper-shouts, studying me.
There’s no judgment in her expression. It’s more excitement than anything, but it’s still hard to say out loud. “They’re my scent matches.”
“They?” She gasps.
“The pack.”
“An omega too?” Her eyes widen to the size of saucers.
“All of them,” I groan.
It’s really the best worst thing. How am I fated for these men? They’re so high on the hotness scale that they create an inverse reaction in my brain, making normal functioning impossible.
Bambi fans herself dramatically. “That’s hot.”
I roll my eyes. “And I’m chronically awkward. Seems like a perfect match.”
Bambi is scandalized. “Rude. Take that back. My best friend is a catch.”
I shrug. “This feels impossible, but I’m trying to go with it.”
Her face softens. “Because you want to and you’re good, right? If this is not something you’re okay with?—”
“I mean, I’m freaked out, but I want it to work… even if I’m scared shitless that there is no world where that happens,” I admit.
“Freaked out sounds about right actually,” Bambi says, giving me an understanding smile. “Meeting your matches is…” She mimes an explosion.
“Definitely.”
“You’re wrong about not getting to have a happy ending. You deserve the best, and it’s okay to let yourself have it, even if getting there is messy.”
I take that in, trying to really hear her.
She nods at the pack house. “You go get dressed and settle in. I’ll cycle through as many laundry loads as possible and meet you at the hospital later. Call me if anything changes or you need me sooner.”
I hug her and thank her again, watching as she heads back. When I hear her give orders to her guys, I turn toward the pack’s house.It’s a large, one-story brick colonial, and even though I’ve looked at it a thousand times, it feels like it’s someplace new.
I can do this. I’m a badass bitch who is going to be brave and face all my fears.
That bravery lasts until about two feet inside the door, when I bump into Quinn.
At least with Nash and Dane, I know what to expect. Sort of. Quinn is a total mystery. He’s also got serious fashion game. His morning sweats and bare chest have been replaced with a tight blue sweater and sleek black ankle pants. Combined with his bright grey eyes and those tossed inky curls, he looks sexy as hell.
Me? I’m a sweaty noodle in Nash’s clothes. So, that’s unfortunate.
He smiles at me. “Here, let me show you where you can put that for now. I figure we can hash out details later.”
I follow him awkwardly, weaving through the house until he stops by an open doorway in a hallway.
He holds out his hand. “I got most of your bedding washed. A couple of the quilts need more time to dry. The dresser and closet are free, and the bathroom has towels. I’ll take you to the hospital when you’re ready to go.”
I’m pretty sure this man has set up a whole-ass guest room for me before he’s set up his own nest. He just got here. He doesn’t know me. I’ve crashed his entire move. Yet he’s unfailingly kind. Generous.“You don’t have to do that. You’ve got a whole house to unpack.”
Quinn cocks his head as if my statement is confusing. “You’re right. I don’t have to. I want to. The boxes will still be waiting. I know you don’t know me yet, but there’s no pressure. I’ll be here for support. Unless that makes you uncomfortable?—”
“No. Thank you. I appreciate everything you’re doing,” I say, my throat tight.
I get another whiff of the snowy air in his scent that makes me forget everything but wanting to lean into him. However, I force myself to skirt past him, closing the door.
He puts out a hand before it shuts, those bright eyes catching mine. “I know this is all fast and the circumstances aren’t great, but I want you to feel comfortable here. Tell me if there’s anything you need.”
I swallow around the lump in my throat and nod. His voice is so soothing. It makes me feel as if we’re old friends already, as though I can trust him.
Quinn backs away, giving me a little wave. It’s flustered and cute, even a little awkward.
The authenticity of it, combined with his calming voice, makes him a little more real beyond his stunning looks, and it puts my heart at ease.