Chapter 31 #3
“Flying to Minneapolis,” Lyle breathes, his hand on Alisa’s face to keep her airway open. “Fuck, we may not be able to if this is as bad as last time.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. Keep holding her and make sure she’s breathing. I’ll be packed in five.”
Silas’ eyes widen as he watches Doc jog down the path to the cottage.
“Did you really think he’d let us go alone after an episode like this?” Easton asks, shaking his head. “We’re building her a fucking nest, guys. We dropped the damn ball here.”
“How can she want something she’s never had before?” I ask, kissing her temple. “Keep breathing for me, baby. That’s it.”
I haven’t had this conversation with her. I didn’t know the guys had asked if she wanted a nest. Alisa finds her own nooks to work or hang out in. She loves being outside, which is where you’ll usually find her.
“You’re right,” East says. “There’s no excuse for it. Outside of her love for purple, I don’t have a clue what she’d want inside of it or where in the house it should be. Alisa is like no other omega I’ve ever met.”
“I think that’s the reason this is so difficult,” Lyle admits. He ignores his bleeding arm in favor of watching the lines of stress on Alisa’s face begin to smooth out.
“We’ll talk to her about it,” Silas says.
“It needs to have a lot of light,” I say, pushing Alisa’s hair back. “She spends her days outside. If Alisa could live out here, she would.”
There’s silence around me and I lift my eyes up to see they’re staring at me.
“What?”
“This never occurred to me,” Silas sighs. “I’ve sketched out a ton of different options and thrown them all away.”
“I visited the nesting store and then chickened out when I was asked why I was there without my omega,” Easton grunts.
Fuck. They have been fucking agonizing about this.
“I think since she’s exactly where she wants to be, a nest doesn’t seem necessary for her. Why does she want to hide somewhere when she’s happier with us?” I ask. “Maybe a hybrid area that’s shared space where she can also have her heats may work better. Ah, somewhere the doc won’t walk up on us.”
“I heard that,” he mutters, dropping his bag on the ground. Doc climbs onto the bed, pressing his fingers against Alisa’s pulse. “This didn’t last as long. I hope she doesn’t have a headache this time.”
“Me too. We’re taking a private plane, but flying still sucks when you don’t feel well,” Lyle says, getting up. “I’ll go pack and settle things with the pilot.”
Doc waits until they’re all inside to say, “Of course it’s a private plane.”
Standing, he checks his bag before blowing out a breath.
“She’s fine,” I say gently.
“I know, but I still worry,” he says. “It’s been months and there’s not even been a hint of a breakthrough heat. Nothing. She’s healthy enough for it, and her last blood test looked really good.”
“No lasting issues from any of the drugs?”
“Nope,” he grunts. “At this point, it’s time to let it ride. I see no reason to rush it with medication. She doesn’t need more shit in her system.”
Doc looks… nervous.
“Anything else bothering you?” I ask hesitantly.
“No. I refuse to borrow trouble. It’s not even that things have been quiet, they haven’t been. I just have this feeling I can’t fucking shake.”
Doc mumbles to himself as he picks up his bag to walk inside, and I can tell he’s not going to talk to me anymore about this. Fuck.
That’s not worrisome at all.
Alisa begins to wake up by the time Silas comes to get us and I rearrange her body in my arms until I can butt scoot out of the bed with her.
“What is this move?” he teases me.
“Woof, woof,” I say, finally able to place my feet on the ground.
“Why are you barking?” Alisa asks sleepily.
Chuckling, I cradle her in my arms as I stand. “It just kind of happened. It’s time to go. How are you feeling?”
“Go? I’m in my pjs…”
“Lyle packed you a few sets of clothing, and we're the only ones who will see them,” Silas promises, ushering us toward the back door. “Everything is handled, Alisa. Now, Troy asked you a question.”
“Okay… My head hurts a little. If everything is figured out, I’ll go back to sleep.”
“Good idea. You have a nightmare to murder in a few hours, Little Fighter.”
Sighing with a nod, she closes her eyes and trusts that we have things handled. Glancing at Silas as I walk beside him, he dips his chin in my direction.
“Help me sketch something out with her on the plane when she wakes up. We’ll say I want to redesign one of the rooms on the first floor. That’s not a lie either. We never use the damn thing and it would make the most sense for a heat. It’s near the kitchen and everything we might need,” he says.
“Can we have a skylight that opens maybe?” I ask. “Fuck, I don’t even know what it would cost to make that happen.”
“You don’t need to,” he shrugs. “We can probably extend the room a little to create glass all around it. I’ll worry about the logistics. I simply need a direction to run in.”
“Yeah, okay.” Blowing out a breath, I focus on getting the hell out of the house. Since I left my shoes outside, I shove my sock covered feet in my trusty slides and go. Hopefully someone thought to pack me actual shoes.
That’s the curse of being a hockey player, I suppose.