It’s controlling, yes. Overbearing, absolutely. But also considerate in a way I wasn’t expecting.
“This is very,” I search for the right word, “comprehensive.”
Adrian’s shoulders relax infinitesimally. “I believe in preparedness.”
“You don’t say,” Caleb drawls, but there’s less bite in his sarcasm than usual. “Tell me, Cole, do you have a minute-by-minute schedule for your morning shit too?”
“Don’t be crude,” Adrian snaps, but there’s no real heat in it.
“It’s a fair question,” I find myself saying, surprising all of us with the ghost of a smile. “I’ve seen your calendar, Adrian. There are blocks for ‘strategic thinking.’”
“Productive contemplation is a legitimate time management technique,” he mutters, but his lips twitch slightly.
A strange moment passes between the four of us—not quite camaraderie, but something less adversarial than before. United, however briefly, by the absurdity of Adrian’s excessive planning and my biological predicament.
I scroll further through the schedule, pausing when I reach the assigned responsibilities. Each time block has different configurations of the three men, rotating through primary and secondary roles.
“You’re taking shifts?” I ask, not sure whether to be mortified or impressed by the coordination.
“Resource allocation,” Adrian explains, as if that makes it less weird. “Maximizing coverage while allowing for rest periods.”
“It makes sense,” Miles says with a shrug. “None of us can be useful to you if we’re exhausted.”
I blink at him, processing the implication. “Useful to me how, exactly?”
The question hangs in the air, loaded with meaning none of us is quite ready to articulate. What exactly do they think they’ll be doing during these assigned shifts?
Bringing me water and cooling packs is one thing. But my heat will demand more than hydration and temperature management, and we all know it.
“Whatever you need,” Caleb says finally, holding my gaze with unexpected steadiness. “Whatever that means to you. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Another wave of heat rolls through me, this one bringing with it a pulse of want so strong I have to bite my lip to keep from making a sound.
The three of them notice—of course they do—but none move closer, respecting the boundaries established in Adrian’s ridiculous, oddly touching schedule.
“And if what I need is to be left alone?” I challenge, needing to assert some control over this runaway situation.
“Then you’ll be left alone,” Adrian says firmly. “With check-ins at agreed-upon intervals to ensure your well-being.”
“But if you need more,” Miles adds quietly, “that option is available too.”
I feel a flush crawl up my neck that has nothing to do with my approaching heat and everything to do with what “more” mightentail. With which of them might provide it. With whether I could possibly choose just one.
“This is insane,” I mutter, pushing the tablet away. “You’re all acting like this is normal. Like scheduling care shifts for your business rival’s heat is just another day at the office.”
“Nothing about this situation is normal,” Adrian acknowledges. “But we can approach it rationally.”
“With spreadsheets,” Caleb adds with a smirk. “Don’t forget the spreadsheets. Very sexy.”
I should be embarrassed. Horrified, even. Three Alphas I barely know outside of professional contexts sitting around discussing my most private biological function with flow charts and responsibility matrices. It’s absurd. Invasive. Completely beyond the pale.
And yet...
There’s something almost steadying about their practical approach. About the way they’re treating this like a problem to be solved rather than an opportunity to be exploited. Even Caleb, who’s spent most of our acquaintance flirting and pushing boundaries, is now firmly within the lines drawn by Adrian’s schedule.
I’m about to say something—though I have no idea what—when my phone chimes with a calendar alert. I glance at it automatically, professional habits too ingrained to ignore.
“Elle Park: Daily Medications - 1:00 PM” blinks on my screen.
