Chapter 11 – Cove
Chapter Eleven
Cove
The next morning, I wake up warm, confused, and surrounded by the most incredible smell. It’s salty and sandy, which doesn’t make any sense. It’s almost like waking up in a hotel next to the beach… That scent that permeates the air.
Before I even open my eyes, I know it’s Declan.
The bunks are tiny.
One person can lie on their back and sleep okay, but it’s basically impossible for two people to fit like that. I’m on the slender side for an omega, and we were squished when I climbed in here last night. Declan was on his back, so I lay down on my side, but he’s definitely spooning me now.
Not to mention the way his muscular arm wraps over me with his strong hand stretched over my abdomen…
Holy shit.
What did I get myself into?
The position feels way more intimately acquainted than what we really are.
The man is frustratingly hot.
Totally my type…
If he didn’t come onto the bus with a weird vendetta against me. Maybe it’s because I hooked up with his nephews?
Honestly, I have no idea.
It could be that he just doesn’t like my personality. Not that I’ve been a big fan of who I’ve become over the months that we’ve been touring.
When I first heard we would be on a nine-month tour, I thought it would fly by.
Now?
I hardly ever know which city we’re in unless I check the cheat sheet on our playlist set on stage or one of the reporters mentions it in a question.
I’ve had a lot of fun traveling, and the first month or two were some of the best times of my life. It’s just hard to stay optimistic and to show up to put on killer performances when the suppressants have me constantly ill.
I thought about it a lot last night, and I’m going to quit them as soon as we’ve honored our commitment for this tour.
I’ve been on suppressants for three years straight with no breaks. When I was first prescribed them, the doctor mentioned it was unhealthy to take them for longer than twenty-four months without at least a year off in between.
My last doctor didn’t want to give me any refills, which left me scrambling to find a new physician right before we left.
Luckily, I did, but I lied and told him I’d only been on suppressants for a little less than a year.
I’m sure he could have verified through the pharmacy, but I specifically made sure my medical records weren’t sent over in time for our appointment.
It’s sobering to realize the lengths I went to in order to secure another year’s worth of refills on my prescription.
And for what?
To consistently feel like shit?
I sigh heavily, and Declan’s arm jolts as his fingers stretch across my stomach. I’m not sure how I was planning to get out of here without waking him, but I was going to come up with some kind of awesome escape plan.
That’s ruined now.
I’m shocked he even let me into his bunk last night. I didn’t know what was bothering him, but I could tell it was serious. Even from all the way in my room, it felt like I couldn’t breathe.
All omegas are sensitive to the emotions of those around us.
It’s one of those things left over in our biology from when the world was a more dangerous place for omegas.
My designation was hunted and even kidnapped by alphas back before there were laws to protect us.
Being able to sense someone else’s emotions or intentions is an excellent way to gauge when it’s time to run.
Despite all of that, I’ve never felt another person’s pain as acutely as I experienced his last night.
“Morning, Princess Nash,” Declan rumbles close to my ear as he stretches. “Jesus. I don’t even know what year it is. I slept like a fucking rock. I never get a good night’s sleep on the bus.”
My insides light up like he praised me for being the reason he slept well. It might have been the beer he downed before stomping off to his bunk, but my instincts would like to take credit.
Jeez.
How cliché of an omega can I be?
Do I really want to be the woman who lights up over soothing a man? But it’s more complex than that, isn’t it? Alpha and omega dynamics just are. They don’t have to make logical sense.
“I’m glad you slept well,” I say, my voice coming out more like a croak.
That’s embarrassing.
I always keep a bottle of water next to my bed in the back room of the bus, and I could really use a long swig right now.
“How about you?” he asks, his words coming out a low, rumbly growl.
My toes wiggle, and I stretch my legs. There’s no pain thundering in my temples, which is a pretty consistent symptom that I wake up with most days.
Don’t tell me spending a night wrapped up in alpha pheromones fixed me…
That’s not possible.
Is it?
Am I really so stubborn that I would cut off my nose to spite my face?
My family would say yes. I mean, they would say it lovingly, but they would absolutely agree that I am exactly that resolute.
“I slept hard too. Do you know what time it is?” I ask, trying to get my bearings.
“Let me find my phone.” Declan moves around, and I instantly miss his warmth.
I want to roll toward him to see what’s happening, and maybe a little to gauge what he’s thinking.
It was pretty random for me to climb into his bed last night, but I couldn’t help myself.
“It’s twenty to eleven,” Damian says, and the sounds of the curtain being opened fill the air. “I was about to wake your lazy asses up, but I figured you needed the sleep. However, we have practice in an hour, so…”
I roll over, coming face-to-face with Declan’s shirtless chest.
“Got it,” Declan grumbles, yanking the curtain closed. “We’ll get moving.”
Damian laughs, and based on the sounds, I believe he moves out to the living room area of the bus.
I’m unprepared for how sexy “sleepy Declan” is when he turns to me. He leans back against the pillows, making each of his strong muscles flex. My nose twitches, breathing in his salty, beachy scent, and I have to bite my cheek to keep from whimpering.
Holy shit.
Smelling him hits me on a whole different level without having taken my suppressants yet this morning. That seems like a very bad sign…
“Thanks for letting me crash in here last night,” I mumble, scrambling over him. “I need a drink. I’m dying.” Only, I’m used to having a lot more space in my room, and I smack my head on the top of his bunk in my attempt to flee.
“Careful,” Declan growls, reaching a hand to cradle the back of my skull. He keeps it between me and the ceiling until I’m at the curtain.
I make my move to escape and mumble a quick, “Thanks.”
I watch Ravvi a little too much during our practice set. The way he bolts with Riot and Creed following the end of sound check indicates that I’m going to have to get crafty.
Maybe even a little aggressive.
My designation might be seen as meek and afraid to make the first move.
I, however, am not.
It’s yet another reason why I’m convinced the universe got it wrong when making me an omega.
That’s okay, though.
We all get to break out of the boxes we’ve been put into.
The dressing room is loud as we funnel inside a few hours later.
Ravvi and Damian stick close together, laughing and talking among themselves. I stay focused on getting myself into my stage attire, but I’d skip hair and makeup if I could. Unfortunately, being decked out is part of my contract, so I don’t fight with Candice as she drags me over to my chair.
I try to covertly keep an eye on Ravvi, but apparently, I’m not stealthy enough.
Riot and Creed make their way over. Creed tosses himself down on the chair next to mine while Riot comes around the front of my seat.
“I feel like I’ve barely seen you.” Riot smirks, patting my knees as he squats in front of me. “How’s life?”
With how violently Candice gathers my hair, it makes it complicated to roll my eyes.
“You stole Ravvi away. I want him back.”
Creed snorts.
“You can have him back at any time…” Riot simply raises an eyebrow. “If you’re going to treat him right. Are you planning to pull your head out of your ass, Clover?”
My eyes narrow.
My first instinct is to snap back.
Then again, if everyone else is seeing the situation in a certain way, it’s probably time I stop being defensive and start considering whether or not they have a point.
“Hey, I’m just fucking with you,” Riot says, shoving his locs over his shoulder. “I know shit is complicated between the two of you for more reasons than any of us know. I care about both of you. I’m tired of seeing you guys hurting.”
“Me too,” I admit. “I’m planning to talk to him after the show. If he doesn’t run from me again…”
“Follow his ass,” Creed says, chuckling. “I mean that literally. Chase him down if he tries to dip.”
If that’s what it takes… I’m not against it.
I nod, making poor Candice sigh.
Glancing over my shoulder, I say a quick, “Sorry. I forgot I wasn’t supposed to move.”
“We’re serious,” Riot says. “Call us. We’ll hold him down for you, if it comes to it.”
Well, here’s hoping it doesn’t come to that, but I’ve got my mind made up, and like everyone I’ve ever known likes to point out, I’m determined when I need to be.
The stage lights are blistering tonight, but the ambiance is on fire. The crowd is hyped, and the guys are on point. It’s freezing outside, but the stadium must have turned on the heat. That, or all the bodies are doing their thing.
I grab the bottle of water the roadie offers me between songs.
Riot and Creed do their jobs, taking over for a minute to amp up the crowd. They love to take off their shirts before our last set or during our last song.
By the time I make it back to center stage, even Ravvi and Damian are getting in on the action.
I’m a little too entranced by the way they play to the crowd, pointing and smiling. Not to mention watching Ravvi’s muscles flex as he tosses an arm around Damian’s shoulder.
Ravvi’s shoulders, arms, and neck are covered in dark tattoos, but he also has these sexy galaxy and star patterns that wrap around both hips. They extend from his lower back, all the way over both hip bones, and disappear into his waistband.
The overwhelming urge to learn how low they go washes over me from nowhere. I put all my focus into getting my guitar on to keep from doing something ridiculous like tackling him on stage in front of a couple thousand people.