40. Cassidy #2
Odelia just looks at me, something impossibly soft breaking over her face.
“Oh,” she says quietly. “Thank you for the offer.”
My stomach flips.
“I’d actually love that,” she admits. “Another day, though. I wasn’t kidding about the search party being sent out.”
Relief hits so fast my shoulders nearly cave.
“That sounds terrifying,” I murmur.
“You have no idea.”
She reaches down to collect her notebook before pausing beside me.
“You know,” she says thoughtfully, “Emme and I are grabbing lunch next week.”
I look up. “You are?”
Why is she telling me?
“She doesn’t know it yet,” Lia says brightly. “But we are. This campaign drama is interrupting her maternity leave.”
I laugh, relaxing back against Evander’s chest.
“And I’d really like it if you joined us.”
For a heartbeat, I just stare at her blankly.
Me?
She’s inviting me?
“Oh,” I say again because, apparently, every coherent thought has abandoned me today. “I’d… really like that.”
Evander’s bond is filled with such warmth, such happiness that it makes me proud of myself for accepting.
“Good.” She smiles in a way that reaches her eyes this time. “Then it’s a date. I’ll text you.”
Before I can react, she steps forward and wraps her arms around me, and her vanilla cream, cotton blossom, and warm milk scent wafts over me.
“You’re lovely, Cassidy,” she murmurs. “Thank you.”
Something in me goes soft and stupidly grateful before she lets go again. She leans over, pressing a quick kiss to Evander’s cheek.
“Don’t slack off too much,” she teases.
“I make no promises.”
“I know.”
She rolls her eyes affectionately before heading for the door.
Just before she reaches it, she glances back over her shoulder.
“Oh, and if Harlan gives you any more ridiculous lunch bans, tell him I fully support them,” she says, winking at me.
I laugh. “I don’t think that’ll help my case.”
“No,” she agrees cheerfully. “Probably not.”
The door clicks softly shut behind her.
Evander tugs me down onto his lap the moment she’s gone, green eyes darker than mine, warm with amusement, and grins at me.
“Do you know how happy I am that you’re here?”
I bite my lip and shake my head.
“Well, I’m fucking delighted,” he says, a contented rumble vibrating through his chest. “If you don’t want to go out with the girls, let me know, okay? It’s not something you have to do.”
“No, I… I really want to,” I say softly.
“Fuck, I love you.”
He wraps his hand around the nape of my neck, pulling my head towards him, before pressing his lips to mine.
I whimper into his mouth, relaxing into his hold.
“I’ve missed you,” he says breathlessly. Pressing a quick kiss to my lips before pulling back a little.
My heart squeezes, and I smile at him.
“We saw each other this morning,” I tease.
“Not for long enough.”
I laugh, threading my fingers through his hair almost without thinking. His eyes flutter closed beneath the touch.
“So,” I murmur, unable to stop smiling, “thank you for rescuing me from my lunch ban.”
He peeks up at me immediately, narrowing his eyes. “Careful, little daisy.”
“What?”
“You keep thanking your mates for wanting to spend time with you, and you’re asking for a spanking.”
My eyes widen.
“I—”
“You’re my mate,” he says, gently pinching my hip. “You don’t have to earn lunch, and you definitely do not thank me for spending time with you.”
He tips his head towards the sofa, and I nod.
Rather than put me down so I can walk there like a normal person, he adjusts his hold on me and carries me over.
“Now, we’re going to sit here and cuddle together for five minutes before we eat. Harlan’s already stolen enough of your day,” he says, winking at me, once we’re settled. “And then, you’re going to listen to all the things I’m going to enjoy doing to you tonight.”
My whole body finally admits how wrecked I am the moment we make it back to Harlan’s place.
Not because today has been bad. Quite the opposite. It’s been… manageable.
Harlan leads us upstairs to his bedroom—his own space, all dark wood and neatly made corners even mid-chaos-week—and I immediately kick off my shoes, coat, and dress, so I can get under his blankets.
Evander comes into the room carrying enough blankets to rival my nest, broad shoulders nearly filling the doorway, hair still a little wavy and disheveled from the day.
Well, maybe my smallest one.
I blink at him in surprise.
“Planning on hibernating?” Harlan teases.
“No,” he scoffs. “Planning on ensuring my omega is appropriately cosy.”
Harlan snorts. “Not sure there’s a difference.”
“Hey,” I protest, and the two of them laugh at me. “Rude. I won’t share with you.”
“I love you, little luxury, but it’s absolutely not because of your blanket sharing abilities,” Harlan says with dry amusement. “You already steal all of the blankets.”
“Rude,” I repeat, and Evander laughs, starting to arrange the blankets around me.
“You okay in just that?” he asks, gesturing to my lack of shirt.
I nod. Maybe I should be uncomfortable, but I’m wearing a sports bra, and I’ve got on a pair of boy short knickers, so I’m happy.
Especially if it means I can remain in the personal blanket pile that he’s arranging around me.
Harlan mutters something beneath his breath as he drops onto the bed beside me, and I can’t help laughing when Evander tugs a blanket away from him.
Harlan takes over the pillow arrangements, and they wait until I’m fully organised before grabbing their laptops and getting to work.
I don’t even question it any more. This is just what happens now, apparently—being fussed over until I stop fighting it.
I can’t deny I love the princess treatment.
I’m tucked happily between them, my back resting lightly against Harlan’s side while one of my legs is thrown over Evander’s.
Neither of them seems bothered that I’m basically on top of them both.
I think they prefer it, if anything.
The soft clatter of laptop keys fills the room. Harlan’s brows are pulled together in concentration, spreadsheets reflected faintly in his glasses.
Beside me, Evander is answering emails at an alarming speed, occasionally huffing to himself before muttering colourful opinions about whoever has dared inconvenience him today.
“Who writes six paragraphs to ask one question?” he grumbles, shaking his head.
“People who enjoy wasting your time,” Harlan replies without looking up.
“They’re succeeding,” Evander snaps. “If Isaac were here rather than hiding from work, he’d deal with this shit.”
I smile to myself, returning my attention to my own laptop balanced across my knees.
Most of my work is already done from today, but I’ve got a few bits I can work on.
Nothing particularly urgent. For once.
An hour goes by like that, the three of us tangled up in our own work. It’s funny working alongside Evander because he’s so different to Isaac, Harlan, and Silas. Those three work pretty much in silence.
Evander? He commentates everything. I love it.
I send my last email with a satisfied little hum before closing my laptop properly.
They might still have things to do, but I am done.
Done.
I set my laptop carefully on the bedside cabinet, having to reach behind Evander to make sure it doesn’t fall, before burrowing a little deeper beneath the blankets.
The mattress dips as Evander absent-mindedly drapes an arm around my waist, now typing one-handed.
I’m jealous of his multitasking, honestly.
“What time are Si and Isa getting home?” I ask softly, my voice muffled against Harlan’s shoulder.
Harlan pauses mid-keystroke. “Silas won’t be over tonight, I’m afraid. He’s got a shoot running until past midnight.”
“Isaac is going to be late, too,” Evander adds. “He’s doing an interview with a potential client.”
“Oh,” I say curiously. “Are you nearly done at Opus, then?”
Evander hums. “We’ve got a couple weeks left, if we drag it out.”
“If you drag it out?” Harlan asks with amusement.
“We’re paid a flat fee, don’t worry, we’re not robbing your department of more funds,” Evander says teasingly. “We thought we’d hang around until the launch, then we’ll take a few weeks off for Christmas, before starting our next job come January.”
I frown, leaning into him a little more. I feel a bit ridiculous pouting that he’s going to be working elsewhere when that was always the plan. It’s not like he’s disappearing.
It just won’t be the same.
“Why are you wondering about Isaac and Silas?” Harlan asks.
“No reason,” I lie, flushing immediately.
I will not admit my mind went to the… well, gutter would be impolite.
“Oh, Harlan, did you hear that?” Evander asks, looking down at me with a devious smirk.
“I did,” Harlan says. He closes his laptop, placing it on the floor next to the bed, before rolling onto his side. My alpha raises a brow. “You’re a terrible liar, little luxury. Especially when your racing heart is going to give you away.”
I groan. “It’s nothing important.”
“That might not be a lie since you believe it, but it’s something I do not like hearing,” Evander says, tutting at me.
He closes his laptop, placing it on top of mine, before rolling onto his side, too.
Now, I’m in the middle of an Evander and Harlan sandwich, their scents tangled together over mine, warm, safe, and already a little wrecked.
Evander’s hand slides beneath the blankets, finding the bare skin of my stomach with practiced ease. His palm is warm and steady, fingers spreading wide across my ribcage.
“Nothing important,” he repeats, voice dropping into something low and amused. “That’s a new one.”
“I didn’t—” I start, but the words dissolve when Harlan’s nose brushes the sensitive curve of my neck, touching Silas’s mark.
“You were wondering when they’d be home,” he murmurs against my skin. “Because you were thinking about them.”
I whimper. “I wasn’t—”
“You were,” Evander corrects, his thumb tracing idle circles just below my belly button. “I wonder why, hm?”
“I think we know why, Ev,” Harlan counters, biting down lightly on Silas’s mark.
I whine, reaching to touch them, but quicker than I can realise, the pair of them grab a hand each, holding it in place.
Assholes.