Chapter 15 #2
Making the decision wasn’t easy, though. Not with so many factors on the table. I felt awful asking the guys to leave their manager behind. It’s not like the guys will never see them again. We’ll still have shows and events to attend in LA, and we’ll be able to visit any time we’re there.
Sensing the sudden shift in my bond, he closes his laptop and pulls me onto his lap. I stiffen, a different worry flooding my mind as he settles me against his thigh. I’m bony. My lack of ass makes my pelvic bones dig into my mate’s legs whenever we sit like this.
Not that any of my mates would complain. They remind me constantly that they love having me in their arms and on their laps, but I can’t shake the memory of other’s voices telling me how uncomfortable it is.
Onyx narrows dark eyes on me, his thick brows pinched. “We all decided to move here, Omega. We took each of our wants and needs into account, so no feeling guilty. You know we would have spoken up if we thought coming to New York was a problem.”
Swallowing my response, I nod. He doesn’t budge, wanting me to mean what I say and not just placate him. “I’ll try,” I promise.
He presses his lips to the top of my head as he slides me back onto my chair. “Finish eating. I’ll be in the den with the others if you want to watch a movie.”
After a late brunch, we spend a few hours watching TV and playing games. It’s a lazy day, much like the rest of our vacation has been, and I love it. I may spend every day with my mates, but we haven’t ever had this much downtime.
The urge to drag them into the music room to work is hard to push down. We’ll cave and start practicing again soon, but I know Quentin will keep his word and make us take this two-month break away from the label seriously.
Caleb returns an hour before my date with Onyx and Sterling. We help carry his stuff in as he tells the rest of Orbital Somatic will be going back to their parents’ houses since they only live an hour away.
Seeing his stuff piled in the guest room—his room—is relieving. It makes his being here feel permanent.
Bellamy drops a box on the bed, and a picture frame falls out. He catches it before it can hit the ground, the photo facing outward. My gasp draws Bellamy’s attention, and he flips it over.
In the picture, I’m on Caleb’s back, my lips pressed to his cheek, and his arms gripping my thighs where they’re wrapped against his hips. We were eighteen then, celebrating our high school graduation with a day at the beach.
My eyes find Caleb’s. His cheeks burn pink when he sees me holding it. “You’ve always been my muse, bunny. I had to keep part of you close.”
I can’t hold myself back any longer. His brows shoot up when I throw myself into his arms, lips plastering to his. He’s hesitant at first because my other mates are still around, but he caves quickly and licks into my mouth.
It’s not nearly enough, and I’m ready to beg for more when he glides my feet to the floor. One hand tucks my hair behind my ear, thumb brushing along my jaw. “Thank you for helping me carry everything in. I’m going to move my car back into the garage and get everything put away.”
“That Alpha has one hell of an ass,” Bee whistles.
My eyes catch the alarm clock on the side table, and I swear. I have to get ready.
Bellamy pats my ass, pushing me out the door. “Have fun tonight, dandelion. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“So nothing is off the table,” I tease, dancing away when he tries to tickle me.
In my closet, I skim my fingers over my clothes, trying to find the perfect date night outfit. I want to surprise them but be comfortable at the same time. My fingers hesitate over a fuzzy white sweater before sliding it from the hanger. I pair it with a long floral skirt and high-top tennis shoes.
Walking to the drawers beside my vanity, I run a finger over the lingerie pieces Emmett bought for my birthday. I haven’t worn them yet, something I plan to rectify tonight.
The green bodycage feels like butter as it glides across my skin. I can’t help but shudder, excitement brewing in my stomach at the thought of Onyx and Sterling peeling it off me later.
As I grab the rest of my clothes, the full-length mirror draws my attention. I should look away. My reflection will ruin my good mood. But I can’t. I’m drawn to the image staring back at me, unable to avoid the pit that grows in my stomach.
Pressing my fingertip to the glass, I feel the spiral start. It’s a drastic shift of emotions; something uncontrollable that eats away at me.
Sharp curves taunt me; skin stretching tight over my bones where they jut out. Wiry arms lead to thin wrists, matching the thinness of my ankles. Each bump of my lower ribs is visible. Aside from my breasts, there’s no softness here. No weight to balance out my age and height.
I hate it.
The first tear slips free, trailing down my cheek as I curse my inability to gain weight. Constantly feeling so uncomfortable in my body tears me apart.
I want to sit on my mates’ laps without worrying about the way my pelvic bones dig into their thighs. To cuddle without overthinking the placement of my arms and legs.
Why can’t I just love myself?