Chapter 19 – Hawk
Chapter Nineteen
Hawk
Vanessa is hiding from me. The house is big enough that it doesn’t take much effort, but I get concerned when she doesn’t come out for lunch. Pacing does nothing to help, and my instincts are riled.
Hell if I know why.
I’m aggravated, but that ire is directed at Moretti. His sorry ass should have warned me someone was on the property. If I had found Magnum literally anywhere else but snuggled under Vanessa, I would have put a bullet in his brain without considering that he might have been an invited guest.
I was tempted to do it, anyway, but what Magnum said clicked in my testosterone-addled mind. If I had executed him, she would have woken up to the mess. That would have been a disaster, and I’m sure it would have made her hate me.
I didn’t kill him.
So why the fuck is she avoiding me?
A quick search of the third floor proves that Vanessa must be in the nest or the bathroom in the pack bedroom. She has my phone number. If she needs me, she’ll call.
That’s what I tell myself, anyway.
I can’t pace the floor bare any longer, or I’m going to lose my fucking mind.
Stopping by my room, I change into workout attire and head down to the gym on the first floor.
I’m never going to be cut like Emory.
I’m too fucking big for that.
Hell, the treadmill creaks and groans every time I step on it.
I’m six-seven and close to three-hundred pounds.
I don’t obsess about my weight, but I would never admit that aloud in front of anyone.
That’s just what happens when someone is as tall as I am.
Muscle weighs more than fat, and even if I did cardio, I’d never have a slim build.
I’d fit in better with the defensive line than the offense.
I focus on strength training because that’s what gets me into the gym. If I had to jump rope, run on the treadmill, or hop on the exercise bike, I would never work out.
I stack weights on the barbell, and try not to let myself focus on Magnum. He’s skinny—the opposite of me. If that’s the kind of guy she’s physically attracted to, then I was wasting my time thinking she might be interested in me.
I should have known better.
I’ve seen how women act when Moretti is around. With two other guys vying for Vanessa’s affection, the only way she’ll notice me is if they kill each other.
I’m worn out and sweaty after an hour in the gym. I’m no longer amped up to the point I feel like I’m about to climb out of my skin, but my armpits are rancid, and I need a shower.
I stomp up the stairs and beeline for the pack bedroom. The sitting room still has my pillow and blanket tossed on the couch from where I failed to clean up after myself this morning.
Ignoring that, I knock on the door to the bedroom. Vanessa wasn’t in there last time I checked, but that was over an hour ago.
There’s no answer, so I knock again, louder this time. If she’s in the nest or the bathroom, there’s no way she’ll be able to hear me.
What if she’s taking a nap?
I frown and fish my phone from my pocket as I take a few steps to stand over by the couch. My meaty fingers make texting a nightmare, but I eventually send off a message to Vanessa, letting her know I’ll be in the shower if she needs me.
It’s ridiculous.
She hasn’t needed me all damn day. I wouldn’t be so out of my mind if she had.
I thrive on being needed.
Solving someone’s problems makes me feel fulfilled.
If she would let me take care of her, we’d both be happier.
The door to the sitting area opens, and my head whips up as I shove my phone into my pocket.
Vanessa barrels inside, kicking the door closed with her foot. She has a pile of laundry in her arms, and it’s so high that I can barely spot her eyes over the top of it. The moment she notices me, she squeaks and jumps. “Holy shit.”
I chuckle, shaking my head.
She’s really fucking cute.
“Would you like help with that?” I ask, nodding at the laundry.
She darts across the room, backing toward the door to the pack bedroom.
My head tilts.
“No. I’ve got it.” Her ass bumps the closed door, and she stretches an arm back, patting around for the handle. In her haste, she loses control of the pile, and the items go flying.
I cross the distance between us, squatting down to help.
My favorite T-shirt is tangled up with the sweats I wore when I went to sleep last night. Those were left in two different places. I know for a fact that T-shirt was tossed over my dresser and the sweats were in the laundry basket in my bathroom.
The navy-blue material under them looks familiar too. It’s the top sheet from my bed.
Vanessa’s hazel eyes are huge, and she rears back, falling against the door.
“Shit.” I reach a hand out, grabbing her arm to steady her. “Are you okay?”
What the hell is happening, and why does she look terrified? More importantly, what did I do to cause that kind of reaction, and how do I fix it?
“I’ll put it back,” she whispers, shaking out of my hold. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Did you steal my dirty laundry?” I ask, trying to put the pieces together.
Her eyes clench closed, and she nods. “Yours and Moretti’s. I couldn’t find anything else that smelled like Magnum, so I stripped the sheets off the pack bed.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” I murmur, dropping the clothes.
My hands hook under her shoulders, weaving around her back. It makes it easy to lift her with me as I stand.
She wraps her feet around my ass, burying her nose in my shoulder. A huge piece of me loves that she wants to be surrounded by my scent, but I’m also concerned that she didn’t seek me out directly.
Crossing the room, I take a seat on the awful couch.
Vanessa has to pull her feet from my backside, so I don’t squish her, and she ends up kneeling over me.
My workout left me sweaty and not smelling great, but her face rolls around my shirt like she can’t get enough.
“What’s wrong, sweet girl?” I weave my fingers into her hair, cradling her head as the other hand comes to rest on her lower back. “Are your instincts unsettled?”
She whines, burying her nose in my damn armpit.
It’s so unexpected that I blink in shock for several long seconds before my instincts demand that I fix the problem. The main issue I’m facing is that I have no idea what I did wrong or how to correct it.
This might not be about me at all.
She’s had a rough few days, and she’s just acclimating to life without the suppressants.
I run my thumb over the side of her skull, trying to figure out how to purr.
Alphas purr to comfort omegas.
It’s a known fact.
I just can’t figure out how to force my body to produce the sound.
“If you needed access to my pheromones, all you had to do was ask,” I say, keeping my voice low and soothing. “You’ve had a lot of changes. This morning was a clusterfuck. What went down would stress anyone out. I came to check on you earlier, but I assumed you wanted to be left alone.”
“I’m just frazzled,” she says. “I’ve never had such an uncontrollable need to nest. Then I couldn’t get comfortable. It felt like no matter how much I burrowed, something wasn’t right.”
“And you thought having access to our scents might help?” I ask, gently massaging her scalp.
“It’s stupid. I’ve never been led around by my instincts before. I think I quit the suppressants prematurely.”
“You only get one life. It’s not worth the risk of messing up your health.” I soothe my palm down her back. “We’ll get the hang of adapting to your needs.”
“I didn’t know Magnum was going to show up here,” she says out of nowhere. “I could lie and say I would have warned you if I did, but I’m not sure I would have.”
I chuckle. “I appreciate the honesty, but Moretti should have been the one to give me a heads-up.”
“Yeah, he should have.”
“All right. How about we settle in the nest and see if it helps your system regulate?” I offer, scooting forward on the couch and preparing to stand.
“You’ll stay with me?” she asks weakly. “I don’t want to go in there if you’re going to leave me.”
I’d like to see someone try to pry me away from her. It wouldn’t go well for them.
“I’ll stay with you,” I assure her.
The den nest is lit only by the thin strips of LED lights that line the bed frame and the top of the cabinets up by the head of the bed.
Vanessa stashes the clothes and bedding that she stole from me and Moretti under the pillows. The sheets she took off the pack bed were already stashed around the nest, meaning she’ll now be surrounded by all three of our scents.
I’m so ripe that I can’t believe she wants me touching the clean bedding, but omegas like strong smells in the days and weeks leading up to their heat. It’s even better if those smells come from potent alphas and contain thick hits of their pheromones.
“Want to face me or away from me?” I ask, climbing onto the edge of the mattress. I lie on my side, facing the middle as I wait to see which she’ll choose.
She made me kick off my tennis shoes before coming into the nest, and it’s a battle not to pluck off my sweaty socks.
“I want to be able to smell you,” Vanessa says, flipping over and scooting toward my front. She pulls her knees up, putting her almost in the fetal position, but I’m tall enough that it means I can bring my knees just below her feet.
She wiggles her face closer, once again plastering her nose to my chest, and it makes me feel ten feet tall. She seems drawn to me, or at the very least, my scent.
I wish I knew where her head was at.
I’m treading on dangerous ground.
Getting attached to her is a dumb move on my part, and I know as much. I’m fully aware of how badly it could blow up in my face, but my instincts want to be close to her.
Vanessa weaves her hand between my arm and my chest, and her fingers dig into my back. She sniffs around, hunting out where my scent is strongest.
I tilt my head down, watching her intently. “You good?”
“Um, yep, I’m great,” she says. “I never thought I’d be so addicted to smelling smoky campfire, but I love your scent.”
“You smell good to me too,” I admit.