6. Thirty-one #2
My heart sped as I imagined taking his cock into my mouth later in the evening. Fantasized about him taking mine, teasing me until I begged him to turn me around and—
A sharp stab between my eyebrows made me wince.
Lin likewise frowned, and we both looked toward the edge of the rooftop, at the ominous shadow on the periphery of the lamplight glow.
Caine stood there, arms crossed atop the four-foot brick wall that surrounded the patio.
His black t-shirt stretched over tense shoulders as he stared outward into the deepening night.
So much for a relaxing Pack’s Night In.
Releasing a sigh, I squeezed Lin’s thigh before standing and making my way over to my more distant packmate.
His overly spicy cinnamon and blood orange scent made even my beta nose itch.
I ran my palm up Caine’s spine, ending with a friendly squeeze right where his neck met his shoulders.
I leaned sideways on the edge of the low wall, my focus on my broody second alpha. “How many Tylenol have you taken?”
A soft grunt was his only answer. He sipped from his water bottle, not meeting my eye.
None, then. I shrugged, affecting nonchalance. “Could always try a homemade piercing. Brow, maybe, or lip!” The corner of my mouth twitched as I suppressed a grin. “You’d look badass with a lip piercing, and your brain will focus on that pain instead of the headache.”
“Says who?”
“Says the only one of us with a medical degree.”
Caine scoffed. “Since when does handing out band-aids and lollipops qualify someone to—”
“You can finish that sentence,” Lin called over from the sofa, posture still relaxed, “or you can not be pushed over the wall. Choose wisely.”
Caine chewed the inside of his cheek, color blooming there. He finally caught my eye and gave a single nod. “Sorry.”
I bumped his shoe gently with mine, a silent forgiveness. Pain was quite the ass-kicker, so I didn’t blame him for sniping.
The hospital handed out migraine medication samples by the bucketful, but no matter how many times I offered them, Caine refused anything stronger than aspirin, if that.
So the samples I brought home sat untouched in our medicine cabinet, and Caine spent a growing percentage of his waking hours in pain.
Because that made fucking sense.
I sighed, spinning my bottle between my hands. “Could always come in and get a hydration IV,” I said softly. “Just fluids, no meds.”
Caine was good at blocking out his emotions in the bond.
Early on, I’d been insecure that he regretted the choice to bond us; he’d been Lin’s friend first, had returned for Lin, and had been saddled with me.
Now, I knew the alpha well enough to know he simply loathed any type of vulnerability.
The fact he’d even bonded us at all was a marvel, honestly.
He must’ve been rundown as hell, because tiny inklings of temptation prickled the bond.
“I’m on shift tomorrow night,” I said. “I’ll set you up in my office. It’ll be quiet, and maybe getting some electrolytes in your bloodstream will help.”
He stood still as a statue for several breaths before giving a single, terse nod.
Well, he’d agreed to one thing. That was something.
May as well push my luck.
I gave him the best You can’t say no to these eyes look I could muster and put on the smile I knew best accentuated my dimples. “Of course, there are more enjoyable ways to fight a headache,” I said, ghosting my fingertip up the side of his rigid bicep. “Why don’t you let us help you tonight?”
Caine turned away, a gentle growl in his chest. But not a no. My heart sped, sensing I was wearing him down.
My touch solidified, three fingertips running slowly back along his arm. “C’mon, Caine.” My voice was soft, almost pleading. “We hate seeing you like this. Let us—”
The low squeak of the rooftop door opening stole my attention. All our eyes snapped to the two women standing frozen in the doorway. One petite but curvy with cocoa brown hair that fell over her shoulder like flowers growing down a wall, golden tanned skin and plump lips and round eyes.
Omega.
The other, tall and athletic with dark red waves and sharp features, softened by the slightest roundness of her cheeks. Green eyes evaluated us with laser precision as she positioned herself just the tiniest bit in front of the woman whose hand she clasped.
Alpha .
The five of us just stared for several long breaths, locked in some kind of spell.
“The rooftop isn’t open to tenants,” Caine snapped. The bond pulsed with agitation. “How’d you even get up here?”
Mystery Omega didn’t move, but her alpha jumped into action. “There was a key in the door,” she said, stepping forward and holding her hand out. “Figured we’d see if we could find you to return it.”
“Where was this key?” Caine asked with suspicion.
“In the storage-level door.”
Whoops .
Lin’s and Caine’s eyes landed on me, Caine with murder in them and Lin with laughter. I huffed. “Next time one of you can haul up the cooler then!”
The brunette still hadn’t said a word, but the red-headed alpha backed toward her, never taking her eyes off the three men—the two alphas—before her. “We’ll get out of your hair. Have a good night.”
My heart pounded in my ears. I didn’t even know their names. But I didn’t want them to leave. More than that, though, there were new studies underway about synthetic omega hormones helping with various alpha ailments. Maybe some bonafide pheromones could ease a migraine.
“Wait,” I called out, stepping closer. “We’ve got plenty of drinks—”
“Brooks!” Caine hissed.
I rolled my eyes. “He’s all growl and no bite, I swear.” I gestured to the ice chest, then the semi-circle of cozy cream-colored patio sofas. “The night’s too nice to not take advantage, right?”
The women exchanged a look, the redhead quirking a brow and the short brunette shrugging.
Finally, still holding hands, they stepped past me and sat on the loveseat across from where Lin sat.
In close proximity, my beta senses could just pick up the faint notes of their scents.
Pomegranate…toffee…vanilla…But I couldn’t tell whose was whose.
Didn't matter, though. Every bit of it made my mouth water for a taste.
Fuck, surely Caine couldn’t hate scents like these?
“I’m Brooks,” I started out, returning to my seat. “These are my packmates Lin and Caine.”
“Oh, we’re acquainted,” the redhead said with a disdainful look to Caine.
Lin chuckled. “Why do I get the feeling someone stuck his foot in his mouth?”
The redhead scoffed. “Try both feet up to the knees.”
“Well, don’t keep it to yourselves, now,” I said, sinking into the patio chair with a sigh. “Do tell.”
She rolled her eyes, aiming her sharp gaze at Caine, who hovered several yards away, half-shrouded in shadow. “So you didn’t tell your packmates about your stance that omegas should disclose their designations on leasing agreements for the comfort of nearby alphas?”
“Damn, Caine, really?” Lin squinted and looked to him, clearly taken aback.
Caine shifted from foot to foot. “That wasn’t what I meant,” he mumbled.
I leaned forward in my seat, elbows on my knees and palms out. “We apologize for our packmate’s…lack of tact.” A spike of agitation shot through the bond. “And we assure you, we’re all pro-neutrality.”
Neutrality felt a bit like a misnomer. All neutralists wanted was for betas and omegas to be on an even playing field with the alphas who’d historically been on top.
“Take it from the resident beta,” I said, gesturing to myself, “Caine is a friend to all designations.”
Once upon a time, our biologies had been necessary for survival.
Hormones and pheromones and instincts that drew certain individuals together, that ensured the strong would defend and provide for the weak.
It had been a long, long time since then, though, and society was finally adapting to that reality.
Blockers, suppressants, and dampeners were almost universally taken by alphas and omegas to ease the intensity of their instincts.
They’d made it safe for omegas, in particular, to exist in the world independent of alpha male caretakers.
Things weren’t perfect, but the last fifty years had seen massive jumps in human rights for omegas and betas alike.
The two women glanced at Caine as one, before turning skeptical eyes back on me.
Lin chuckled, sipping his drink. “Well, if not friend, then certainly…tolerant.”
“God,” Caine breathed between clenched teeth as he made a beeline for the doorway.
Only then did I realize that the not-my-headache had, indeed, lessened—and that it grew with each pounding step Caine took toward the door. I jumped up from the seat, jogging after him and grasping his arm before he could disappear through it.
“Okay, okay, okay, we’re sorry,” I said, injecting lightheartedness into my tone. “No more ragging on Caine. Promise.”
He could’ve pulled out of my grip, continued on back to the apartment to sit alone in the dark and listen to his own blood pumping through his ears. Yet he stood still. I pushed as much encouragement down the bond as I could, silently begging him to stay.
“Please,” I added in a whisper so only he could hear. “It might help.”
Maybe he’d noticed the drop in his pain too, or else his desperation for relief just won out.
Either way, Caine turned and—scowling so hard I worried his eyebrows might slice his nose off his face—returned to his former position propping up the brick wall of the patio.
Not as great as joining us in the sitting area, but if the omega’s pheromones could reach him, I’d take it.
“So, where were we?” I asked as I plopped back down next to my mate, who was perched on the edge of the seat as Caine and I returned. A prod from him in the bond, a checking in. I set back a wave of comfort. All is well.
Well, well-ish.