Chapter 6 #2
Tell him to stay, beg him to stay, instead I force my mouth to form the words that I should say and not the ones I want to.
“Goodnight, Mack,” I whisper and watch him walk to the door, pausing only to look back before he turns the light off and slips out, closing the door with a soft snick.
I try to stay awake, try to linger in the feeling of this warmth, but I can’t, I fall into the dark, fall into sleep.
I bite into my toast as I watch Danger dig into his meal. He eats as if I starve him.
“So, tell me about the city.”
I stiffen, lifting my head to find my mum staring at me. She’s got that look on her face, the one that says she’s not going to give up no matter how hard I try to wriggle free.
She plops a piece of fried bread, cut into the shape of a starfish and stuffed with jam onto my plate. My stomach turns violently. The last time I had one of these was the day Mack disappeared. I haven’t touched them since. I can’t, it brings back too many horrible memories.
“Mum. I don’t want to talk about the city right now, and I’m not eating this. I don’t like these anymore,” I say and slide the plate away.
“You love them.”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t. I haven’t for years. Just take it back.”
Her eyes narrow. “Why are you making a big deal about it?”
“I haven’t eaten them since I was a kid. I’m not going to start now. Why is it so important for you to have me eat them?”
She glares at me, and I glare right on back. I push the plate towards her.
“What’s going on with you?” she growls out. “What happened?”
I put my head in my hand and sigh. My stomach jolts, and that seedy, crappy feeling returns.
“No, I’m not going to eat it. I also don’t want to talk about it.
Why aren’t you listening to me? Don’t I get a say in this at all?
” I fold my arms over my chest, trying not to cry.
Our surface conversation is stupid and immature, but it’s the one we aren’t having that is upsetting both of us.
She wants to know what happened. I don’t want to tell her.
She thinks I don’t trust her. I don’t want to disappoint her.
“Just give it a go!” Trust me.
“NO!” I stand up and take three steps away from the island. “Mum, I don’t want to eat it, and where are my keys? I want to go for a drive!” I need to get away, yes, I know it’s running.
“Check the key bowl!” Mum snaps, her temper frayed.
“I did; they aren’t there,” I say through gritted teeth, trying to ignore the way her temper is setting mine off. Our scents are clashing, and the angrier we get, the stronger they compete with each other. I forgot how explosive a house of omegas could be.
“I’ve got more important things to worry about than your keys, Sofia.”
“Well, I don’t know where they are,” I almost shout, shoving away from the island and putting space between us. “And I need them.”
The air feels like it’s going to ignite.
Pops bursts into the kitchen, his expression alarmed. Elijah is just behind him, his gaze finding mine and just reminding me of all the reasons I left Sunshine Cove in the first place. I’m not good enough for him, I never will be.
“What’s going on?” Dad asks cautiously.
My mum huffs. “Your daughter won’t eat her breakfast,” she growls out. “I made her favourite, starfish jellies.”
Pops blinks and looks at the ground. “I didn’t think she liked starfish jellies anymore.”
Mum bursts into tears.
I start pacing around. “I told her that. She doesn’t listen to me.”
Mum screeches. I hiss.
“Time out!” Pops snaps. “Both of you.”
“No!” I wail. “I don’t want to go to time out.”
“I don’t care what you want; you need to go. Elijah, grab her, and do not let her get away.”
I try to run, but Elijah just picks me up easily and holds me. “Where am I going?”
“You traitor!” I kick him, but he’s all hard muscle and a strength that he didn’t have when we were teens.
“That door at the end of the hall that’s always closed. Go and put her in there.”
I kick and struggle to get free, but Elijah carries me to the room, gets one arm wrapped around my chest while he kicks open the door and spins us in.
“Oh, wow.”
I can’t fight him when he sounds like that. I need to see his face, his expression. He lets go of me, looking around in awe. He’s so beautiful.
I try to see it from his point of view. It’s a rainbow mess of pillows, mattresses, a massive couch that you sink into, and blankets everywhere.
The colour scheme is there isn’t one. It’s just sensation and whatever you need.
Dad and Pops called it an omega sensory room.
It’s got light effects, music, noise-cancelling headphones, and the rules are if someone is in the room, no one can enter unless invited.
Asher always went for the darker colours and satins when she lived here, while Felix liked the faux fur. I love the blankets.
“Oh, wow,” he repeats.
I launch onto the couch, snatching up a couple of blankets, and burying myself in them. I wrap them tighter and tighter until I finally start to cry. Danger lets out a bark from the open door and runs towards us. Elijah lifts him up beside me and crouches in front of me.
“Please don’t cry, Sofia. We can fix it.”
“Eli?” I sob out his name.
He gets up and walks away.
Walks away!
I panic and explode out of the blankets and wrap my arms around his back. “Don’t leave. Please don’t leave.”
Vanilla, coffee, and sandalwood get strong, reaching around me and wrapping me in a warm hug of perfume. I inhale deeply, feeling the panic ebb. This is my Eli, and there’s no scent like his and no one who can make me feel this vulnerable and strong.
“I’m not going anywhere. Just closing the door so we can talk without being overheard.”
I shudder, but I can’t find it in me to let him go.
He reaches out and pushes the door closed, then just stands there with a hand on mine until I let go and return to my pile of blankets and fluffies.
“I just wanted to prove I could do it. Be something more or do something more. That I could fit in somewhere.”
He kneels in front of me, his blue eyes staring at me, and I feel like he’s really seeing me, really listening. He’s got the most beautiful golden hair.
“Everything was just harder than I thought it would be. I wasn’t cut out for the city life,” I murmur. “But I couldn’t come home. I just couldn’t.”
“But you got home. You did that. You were strong and brave.”
He rubs the spot just above my knee, unaware of how distracting it is or how I want to throw myself at him.
“Yeah, I did. I had to save and save and buy Heather,” I say distractedly, watching the way he frowns just slightly with my words.
Is it getting hot in here?
“Heather? Oh, sweetheart, I don’t know who Heather is.”
Sweetheart? Yes, I can be a sweetheart.
“Heather the Hellbeast, my car. She got me all the way here. I wasn’t sure I was going to make it.” I cry harder. “She’s trying to kill me with plumes of black smoke.”
Elijah clears his throat. “So, you didn’t make it there. Now, you're back. That’s a good thing, right?”
I dissolve into sobs. Elijah just waits, patiently sitting close, not demanding, not saying anything or adding any pressure.
“Yeah, but I still don’t have anything, like a job or a purpose or meaning. Nothing. I’m just an omega who is slowly melting down. I don’t even have suppressants.”
Elijah stiffens, his eyes going wide.
Oh, my god, why would I say that? Why would I even say that?
“What was that?”
“Nothing!”
I burrow deeper into the blanket, but his scent chases me. The urge to crawl into his lap and lick any exposed skin I can find presses at me. I let out a whine.
He reaches out and grabs hold of my ankle.
“What are you doing?” I ask quickly.
“Trying to make you feel better.” He pulls off my sock and starts rubbing my foot. I lean back, moaning and gasping as he drives his thumb into the arch of my foot.
“Oh, that feels so good. Right there. That’s the spot.”
“So, things were hard. Did you meet any people?” he asks cautiously. When he swallows, his Adam’s apple goes up and down. I had no idea that could be sexy, but then I think Elijah doing anything would be sexy.
I bite my lip, trying not to let out another sound, but it’s hopeless. I’m a mess.
“I met people, but they were either busy with their lives or they were bad people. I didn’t know they could be so cruel to each other until I went to the city. It’s not like here.”
“Do you think you’ll stay here?”
I pause to consider it. “It’s going to depend.”
“On what?”
“I’m not sure; I just don’t want it to be like last time.”
He switches feet, and, once again, my protests fall on deaf ears. But the way he slides his thumb into my arch has me melting low on the couch.
Danger yaps and starts chewing on a pillow, looking far too adorable for me to stop him.
“What is this room?” Elijah asks.
“It’s our time out room.” I pant, sinking lower as his talented fingers start on my calves.
“When you have multiple designations and especially omegas living in the house, sometimes we just scrape on each other's tempers a bit. Dad and Pops came up with it when Mum started butting heads with Sebastian. I’m hungover and stressed and-”
He looks up at me. “And?”
“And I don’t know who I am anymore, and I really, really hate starfish jellies.”
“Ah, that’s okay.”
“Why is it?”
“Because I know who you are, I’ll help you remember, and I won’t make you eat starfish jellies."
Elijah bundles me up with even more blankets and wanders the room looking at all the materials while I look at him.
“What are the books for?”
“Shredding.”
He does a double take. “Shredding?”
“Mmm,” I say from my mound of pillows. The tightness in my chest is easing, but the guilt remains.
He reaches for a light switch, and the room goes dark, only to be filled with rippling colour from a lamp that has a frosted glass shade on it. The colours move like the ocean and change from calming blues to green, pink, purple, and then back again.
It’s a big room, but it is filled with everything an omega could want. It’s a nest for the house, for anyone who needs it.
Elijah turns back to me, and there’s a look on his face that has me squirming on the spot.
He opens his mouth, but the door opens slightly.
“Elijah, sorry, but we need to go to work now.”
“Oh, of course. Sorry, Franco, I’ll be right there.”
He looks at me, and I think he’s just going to leave, but instead, he marches over to me, leans down, and kisses my forehead. He pulls out his phone.
“What’s your number, Sofia?”
I stare up at him, regret and embarrassment hit hard. “I don’t have a phone anymore.”
For a moment, his mouth opens and closes like he’s trying to figure out what to say.
“I’ll see you tonight, Sofia.”
He likes saying my name, and, honestly, I enjoy hearing the way he says it.
I can’t answer him; all I can do is stare, in confusion and alarm, as he turns and disappears. Why is my chest so tight? Why is my stomach fluttering so wildly?
There’s a knock on the door, and Mum sticks her head in. “Can we talk?”
She smiles, and that smile is one I recognise. She’s calling a truce.
“Yes, Mum, about anything but the last few years? Deal?”
She hesitates. “Deal.”