Chapter 5
LIV
HOT IN HERRE - NELLY
Deciding to stay at this campground for more than just one night is starting to feel like a bad idea.
It was my idea, so I have no one to blame for it but myself and even though I stand by my reasoning, I am most definitely beginning to regret it.
I’ve been peeking through the crack between the accordion door and the bedroom wall off and on for the last twenty minutes. I’m seconds away from peeing my goddamn pants because Niko is sound asleep, twisted into a pretzel, and in nothing but his underwear while blocking my path to the bathroom.
I haven’t seen a man in that kind of way in two years.
Half-naked eye candy wasn’t really something I factored into having him tag along on my roadtrip.
The fact that I’m currently experiencing slight guilt and an extreme thrill over the possibility of seeing things that haven’t crossed my mind since my pack makes me feel weird, too.
Therapy has been a blessing in disguise, one I was reluctant to receive but probably needed to start at the ripe old age of six.
It’s helped me, but not feeling guilty enough over the thrill of Niko laying there in his underwear is a surprise.
Just like my lack of assuming something like this was within the realm of possibility.
I should have, simply based on the logistics of sharing a space as small as this one.
Hell, Niko saw my tits before I realized he was here.
Things like that are definitely possible when there’s only twenty-three feet between one end of the camper and the other.
I just wasn’t expecting to have any kind of reaction to it.
Which is also stupid considering how drawn I am to Niko.
I guess, more than anything, I’m struggling with what is probably a natural response to someone as beautiful as that man in nothing but some boxer briefs because of what it forces me to think about.
My pack.
There’s guilt there, but not enough. I feel like I’m betraying them because I’m attracted to someone else, like how I feel going into heat without them is wrong, but not in a way that puts a stop to wandering thoughts.
That’s something I imagine I’m going to have to really deal with as time goes on.
That’s what my counselor at the shelter says, anyway.
It’s okay to feel things for other people, platonic or not, because I can still love Dante, Emery, and Jay while making room to love someone else.
Like I can still love our baby even if I have children down the road.
My heat doesn’t have to be some awful reminder of what happened because I might be in a situation where I’m comfortable with it again, and ultimately I should be because it can bring people closer, and life can be created from it.
All beautiful things I shouldn’t hate or feel bad about because of what I’ve been through.
It’s all normal and natural, and it’s okay. Being alive is okay. Living is okay.
Being stupidly attracted to the half-naked omega at my table is okay.
I think what bothers me more than that is being reminded that even though we bonded, those boys were my chosen mates.
We weren’t matched or soul bonded. Our relationships, our love, it started out situational.
It wasn’t any less important or meaningful because of that; it might have even been more significant for the same reasons.
But the four of us chose to be together. We chose to become a bonded pack because of how we felt, because of what we’d been through together. Which means it’s more than possible, and extremely likely, I still have scent matches or soul bonds out there.
That scares me, it always has, but I didn’t have to worry about it while I was at the shelter.
Being out here increases the risk, it intensifies the probability, and having Niko with me is like someone hung a neon sign in the middle of my RV that says get ready to remember what your libido is, bitch, and kiss your heart goodbye while you’re at it.
I don’t trust people, not really, but I want so badly to be loved, to be someone’s priority and focus, I can get my wires crossed.
Like with Hayk.
I wanted to believe he was going to be the father I never had, that I was going to be living a fairytale when he took me in. I had no idea what was happening until it was too late because I was blind to it. I didn’t want to see things for what they were.
My counselor called that love bombing.
Gifts and my own room, nice clothes and special treatment. He made me feel valued. I felt safe, but as soon as he knew that, everything changed. I was caught in his web and tangled so tightly that I didn’t get out until I was pushing thirty.
I know the things I’ve been through are not necessarily common. They aren’t normal. They don’t happen to everyone. The chances of any of it happening again are slim to none for the most part. And I know Niko is nothing like the horrible men I’ve been around before.
I’m worried he isn’t anything like the wonderful men I was around, either, and feeling anything beyond friendship for him will erase the way I feel about my pack I lost.
Again, I know that’s not how this works but I can’t help it. My reaction, the way I respond to Niko is so strong that it’s scary. Big and scary, and unknown. It’s new. It’s different, and I’m worried that could mean it’s a hell of a lot more. That Niko is something more.
I’d also kind of like to punch him because how can someone sleep so soundly in the position he’s currently in and still look next to perfect.
His long blond hair is fanned around him, the shiny gold waves framing his face perfectly as the most serene expression paints his features.
It makes his aquiline nose and chiseled jaw somehow soft and sharp at the same time.
Niko’s full lips are parted a tiny bit, enough to emphasize the Cupid’s bow, and between the slight dimple in his chin and the perfect shape of his brows, the asshole looks angelic.
Even while twisted into a position that is going to give him at least forty different cramps and cause a limp when he tries to stand up.
I noticed all of those things last night when I went for my lifelong ritual of peeing at 3 am, but he had the blankets tucked up under his chin and I couldn’t see everything I can now.
There is very little about him physically that reflects his designation. I knew that before simply based on height, but the miles of tattoos covering defined, rippling muscles is another difference from the male omegas I knew before.
Granted, most of them were as malnourished and abused as I was, so it might not be a fair comparison.
Still, the man I’m staring at through a tiny crack looks nothing like I expected him to.
I wish he’d cover up.
I don’t want to go out there while he’s basically naked, not when I’m thinking the thoughts running through my head.
It’s not like I’m suddenly not going to have to pee anymore and will try mounting him in his sleep or some shit. I just have no idea what I’m going to do with a closer look at Niko in all of his mostly naked glory.
Looks like I’m going to have to suck it up, though, because drooling over him is a way better option than having him wake up to find me scrubbing the rug for a far more embarrassing reason.
I hold my breath as I begin opening the door, the slats quietly clicking together while it slowly moves along the track.
Once there’s enough space for me to fit through, I step out in front of the closet then pause as Niko shifts around a little, rolling and stretching so he’s facing me.
When he doesn’t wake up, I tiptoe past him as fast as I can in order to prevent myself from staring at his crotch because his new position gives me a clearer shot and I’m not about to take it.
Fifteen minutes later, I’ve taken care of business and washed my hands, and I’ve psyched myself up to the point of feeling like I can race back to bed undetected.
Except, when I open the bathroom door and go to dart out, I smack face first into that same bare, tattooed chest I was ogling a few minutes ago.
“Everything, okay?” Niko asks as he grips my biceps to steady me. “Why are you running around in the middle of the night?”
“I-I’m not,” I say as I swallow hard and look up into his deep brown eyes. “Just had to pee.”
I cringe because I don’t know if we’re at sharing bodily functions level but he gives me a sleepy smile. “Same, but I saw you dart across the RV when I woke up. Wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
“It is.”
“Good.” His hands slide down my bare arms, his fingers blazing a trail against my skin in the softest caress.
This is not good.
It feels good. I like him touching me, I like it a whole lot, but that’s the problem.
I’m spiraling very fast, free falling right into the very thing I’m afraid of and I don’t know what to do with that.
“Well,” I say as I clear my throat. “I guess, I should probably let you get to it.”
“Sure.” Niko reaches out and flips a few pieces of hair over my shoulder before stepping aside for me to get through. “Sweet dreams, Liv.”
I nod and wrap my arms around my waist, quickly walking back to my room.
I think I’m going to have to tell Niko everything.
What happened to my pack, why I left the shelter.
I’ll have to explain all of the guns and what I’m planning to do when I get to the other side of Minneapolis.
It’s been hard keeping it from him already but now?
With all of these stupid feelings I’m having?
I need to make sure he knows everything so he can make an informed decision about what he wants to do moving forward.
I care about Niko more than I want to admit, too much if I’m being honest, and I’ve been fighting it for well over a year.
I need to stop fighting now, though. If anything happened to him it would ruin me.
I’ll do what I need to do tomorrow and accept whatever comes of it as a clear cut sign from the universe.
If I spill my guts and he heads back to Omega’s Haven, obviously my feelings were wrong and I need to increase my therapy sessions. If I tell him everything and Niko stays…
I glance back over my shoulder as I start to pull the door closed, Niko standing outside the bathroom staring at me when I do, and my heart starts to beat a little faster.
Why does the idea of him staying scare me almost as much as him deciding to leave?