19. Nelly
Nelly
Burden.
The word loops through my head over and over while thunder shakes the apartment hard enough to rattle the walls.
I feel like a burden.
Every single time lightning flashes through the cracks in the blinds, my body flinches on instinct. I curl deeper into the nest I'm trying to make on Nash's couch, pulling blankets over my shoulders while my pulse thunders against my neck.
His couch is way too firm, and nothing feels right on it.
The fabric is scratchy, most likely that cheap-ass waterproof stuff so he doesn't have to scrub it clean every time he eats on it.
So wrong. The cushions are all wrong, too, constantly slipping out from underneath me whenever I try to burrow.
The blankets don't smell the way they need to.
The storm is too loud.
Levi smells way too good.
They all smell way too good.
This isn't how any of this is supposed to be.
Another crack of thunder booms overhead, like the storm itself is trying to bury the town, and I shove myself deeper into the corner of the couch. I grab blankets and toss them over my head until nothing but my nose sticks out so I can breathe.
"Nelly," Beau says gently, "you're folding yourself into the cushions."
"I know," I mumble from beneath the pile of blankets.
The couch dips beneath a shifting weight before hands carefully tug at the blanket enough for my face to peek out. Beau's soft eyes meet mine in the flashlight glow, and I have to swallow down a whimper when a flash of lightning tells me another loud sound is coming.
I hate it when I'm not in control of all the loud sounds.
"You're okay," he says quietly.
"I know. I'm trying. I'm sorry."
And I am.
God, am I trying to stay level-headed during all of this.
But every time the wind howls outside, my instincts go haywire again.
The couch cushion suddenly slides sideways beneath me, and I start slipping toward the edge.
"Nelly," Nash says immediately.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I say as I try to get the cushion back beneath me. "Your couch cushions are just slippery on the bottom. I didn't mean to—"
The cushion gives out completely beneath me, flying to the floor and threatening to take me with it. But before I can even process what's happening, strong arms scoop me clean off the couch.
I yelp softly as my body leaves the nest entirely.
"I got you," Nash murmurs.
My arms instinctively loop around his neck. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, don't be mad."
"Levi, a little help over here?" Beau asks.
"She damn near tunneled through the thing," Levi says as I bury my face into the crook of Nash's neck.
He smells divine.
"I told you she was burrowing," Beau says.
Levi chuckles. "I didn't know you meant literally."
Beau sighs. "Let's see if we can find a way to keep these cushions stationary on his couch."
Heat floods my face while Nash holds me securely against his warmth. I wiggle instinctively, trying to get back toward the couch, but his grip only tightens.
"Easy," he rumbles softly.
"I messed it up. I have to fix it."
"No one cares about the couch."
"But—"
"You're okay," he says again, quieter this time. "I'll put you back in a second, Omega. Just let them do what you're struggling to do. There's no shame in that."
Omega.
The word hits me like warm honey sliding through my veins, and my body reacts instantly. A fresh wave of scent spills from me, rich vanilla flooding the room so thick it makes my head swim.
The guys react without me having to see them.
Levi holds his breath.
Beau lets out an almost reverent sigh.
Nash's hold on me tightens just a fraction.
Embarrassment burns through me immediately. "Sorry, guys."
"No apologizing," Levi says quickly.
"Seriously," Beau agrees. "You're good."
Nash just adjusts me higher against his chest before carrying me back toward the couch once Beau and Levi finish fixing the cushions.
"There," Beau says softly. "Let's try that."
"Should hold a bit better," Levi says.
Nash lowers me back into the nest with ridiculous care, like I'm something that's about to break.
And maybe I am. I don't know. I've never been a fan of storms. I can't stand loud sounds I don't control.
Nash's big hands guide the blankets around me while Levi fluffs one of the pillows near my shoulder.
And for a moment, one word rings in my head while the scents of cedarwood, smoke, and fresh linen wrap around me.
Safe.
For once in my entire life, I actually feel safe.
I exhale shakily and curl into the nest just before thunder cracks again. I shove down into the cushions all over again, trying to burrow somewhere deeper, somewhere hidden, somewhere the storm can't reach me.
"Nelly," Beau says gently.
"I know," I whimper.
The cushion starts slipping again.
"Oh, come on," Levi mutters.
"I can't help it."
"No one's upset," Nash says.
"Seriously," Levi adds. "This is fascinating, honestly."
"That's because you're weird," Beau mutters.
"I tattoo demons onto people for rent money, Accountant. Weird's already established."
The couch dips beside me and I peek up through the blankets. Nash is perched carefully on the edge near my head, staring back at me. He's got an expression I've never seen on him before. Almost… soft.
Not annoyed, like he usually looks.
Not frustrated, like he has a tendency to be.
Just concerned.
"You're fighting your instincts," he says quietly.
I snuggle my cheek against the stuffed animal he bought me. "I don't like feeling out of control."
He nods. "I know."
Another flash of lightning illuminates the room before darkness settles again, and that's when Nash's hand reaches out. I follow it with my eyes until his fingers glide into my hair.
The touch catches me completely off guard.
My entire body melts without my permission.
Warmth spreads through my chest while I lean into his hand without meaning to. Just a moment. But it's the only moment I need as my eyes fall closed, relaxing against the rhythmic stroking of his fingertips along my scalp.
"There you go," he murmurs.
I've never seen this side of Nash. I hate that my body gives in to it. Well, maybe "hate" isn't the right word. It's just… different.
But not a bad kind of difference.
Something clatters in the kitchen. "Anyone hungry?"
"Huh?" I rasp out.
"Are you hungry, Omega?" Nash asks.
My instincts preen at the word. "No, not really."
Nash's voice is calm and level-headed. "You're terrified and halfway into pre-heat. You need food. Let Beau fix you something easy. Maybe some soup?"
Levi chuckles somewhere next to me. "Damn, Sheriff. Real romantic."
"I'm not trying to be romantic. I'm trying to be helpful."
"Sure, you aren't."
Nash flips him off without looking away from me, and despite myself, I smile faintly beneath the blankets. Beau moves around Nash's kitchen, opening cabinets and pulling out drawers. A burner clicks, and a small whooshing sound echoes through the apartment.
"At least the gas still works," Beau says.
"If that goes out, I've got a camp stove and some butane stashed in the upper part of my closet," Nash says.
"Why does that not shock me in the slightest?" Levi asks.
The smell of grilled cheese slowly fills the apartment. The storm still screams outside, but the scent of toasted bread and butter starts cutting through some of the panic twisting inside me. My stomach rumbles and I peek up at Nash, finding him smiling softly down at me.
I don't know that I've ever seen such a gentle look on his face before.
Eventually Beau returns, balancing plates in his hands.
"Okay," he says. "Sit up for me."
I'm so tired. "I don't wanna."
"Nelly. Come on, don't fight. You know you need to eat."
I groan but push myself upright within the nest. The blankets stay wrapped around my shoulders with Nash fussing over every move I make. It takes me a while to get comfortable, and the whole while, Nash steadies the plate for me as Beau passes out the food.
Until eventually, Nash settles the plate in my lap.
"There," he says.
I smile at all three of them. "Thanks."
Levi settles onto the floor near the couch with his own plate while Nash leans back against the cushions beside me.
Beau takes up residence in the armchair next to the couch, and weirdly enough?
The second they all settle close, my body relaxes a little bit.
The four of us eat mostly in silence, with the storm filling the need for background noise.
It doesn't let up, though.
With each bite I take, the awful waves of pre-heat that slammed into me earlier quiet down to a simmer. It's still there, sure, but it's no longer all-consuming.
I'll take the wins where I can get them.
Just as I'm taking the last bite of my grilled cheese, however, another insane clap of thunder bursts through the sky.
I jump so hard that my plate rattles in my lap.
Tears crest my eyes. Everything is out of control, I'm surrounded by men who affect me in ways I'm only just beginning to realize, and I have no safe place to ride out my heat.
"Hey, hey. It's okay," Beau says as he moves from the armchair to the other side of the couch.
Nash tucks against my other side. "We're right here. You're okay."
Levi scoops my feet into his lap. "Want a foot massage?"
Beau settles close enough that his thigh presses against mine beneath the blankets.
Nash settles his arm around the back of the couch, blanketing my shoulders.
Levi pulls my socks off and immediately presses his fingers into the sore arches of my feet.
But it's their intermingled scents that finally release the panic in my gut enough for me to keep eating.
Nash, Levi, and Beau. Tucked around me, taking care of me, and doing their damnedest to make sure I'm comfortable and safe.
The Omega inside of me wants to purr with delight.
I do my very best not to think about what that could possibly mean.