HolyJesus, how am I supposed to have any kind of coherent thought with all of this happening in my mind and body?
Marcus sucks in a breath, no doubt feeling the sudden rush of need, and inches closer, his body crowding into Charlotte’s. Between one breath and the next, his nutmeg scent curls around me, sinking into me. Some of the itchiness fades away. He hums and takes another half-step closer, forcing Charlotte to press entirely against me. She wraps her other arm around my waist, her nails digging into my back. Megan closes the distance, too, her hand still holding my wrist immobile.
A deep-seated part of me I’d never quite realized was there spreads out, sprawling in the heat of their joint attention like a cat on a sunny windowsill. I close my eyes and soak in the feeling, breathe in all three of their scents that are now mingling around us. For an infinite moment, we’re just our basest instincts. I’m an Omega that needs scent and touch and attention. They’re Alphas that thrive on providing and soothing and protecting.
The tension from the travel eases away, melting down my body and pooling at my feet. Marcus hums, and the sound shoots straight down my spine. I need him against me, under me,inside me. He groans as the bond hums to life and betrays the force of my sudden, unholy need for him.
“Better?” Megan asks, ripping me out of the thoughts.
I swallow around the lump in my throat. Yeah, all right, I definitely understand Violet’s sudden attitude change the last six weeks.Jesus.
“Y-yeah,” I manage to say with only a slight crack. “Thank you. I didn’t realize how stressed I was.”
Which is true. Even the aching in my joints is better than it’s been all day. That seed of hope grows a bit bigger, digs a bit deeper. Maybe Marcus will be enough after all.
“Would you like a tour?” Charlotte asks. “I know I already showed you on the video calls, but in person is different.”
“Yeah, that would be great.” Marcus and Megan both take a few steps away, and Charlotte grabs my hand like it’s the most natural instinct in the world. Before we’ve taken more than a few steps, Megan’s eased my backpack off my shoulder and slung it over her own.
“So living room, obviously,” Charlotte says, gesturing to the large room to the right of the entryway.
Two green velvet sofas face each other. The far wall is occupied mostly by a brick fireplace with large white candles in a minimalist holder where a fire would traditionally be. Built-in shelves flank both sides, painted a dark gray that coordinates with the exposed brick. The floors are a light oak that carry deeper into the house.
“And then the main floor’s bathroom is here,” she points to one of the two doors maybe five feet from the entrance. “The other one is a closet.”
She walks us deeper into the house. Marcus palms the small of my back, and I have to swallow a whine that’s way too desperate for literally just arriving.
“Stairs,” she says, pointing to where they stand about ten feet from the front door on the left. Rather than a wall, the side of the stairs are panels of tinted glass, a cool-toned gray that stands as an interesting contrast to the warm floors and stair risers.
“And then kitchen and dining room,” Charlotte says with a smile as we reach the back of the house.
The kitchen is a modest size in an L-shape with dark cabinets and white counters. The sink sits centered under a large window that overlooks a backyard. On the windowsill is the small bouquet of azaleas I’d given Megan earlier in the week. Warmth fills me at the sight of them. The counter juts out of the wall toward us, creating a peninsula designed for dining. Three chairs are tucked under the edge of the counter there, facing into the kitchen.
“And we have a small yard, too. It’s not huge, but way bigger than most people have, especially in Manhattan. Megan tries to grow a garden every year. This year she’s been growing cucumbers to pickle. Oh! And over here is the other living room. I grew up calling it a den but I guess that’s not something they really use here.”
She points to the left. Sunken down two steps is another living room done in a similar color palette as the rest of the house. This room has a large brown sectional, though, that takes up most of the floor space. It all combines into a warm, nearly cottage feel. In the heart of Manhattan. It shouldn’t work, but it does.
Marcus eases closer.
“Some of the family room is a bit messy. We’re still adjusting everything,” he says. “Why don’t we go drop these in your room? And then we were thinking of grabbing some boba if you’re feeling up for it.”
I turn away from the main floor’s warmth, focusing on Marcus.
“You’re sure I’m okay to take the entire bottom floor?” I ask. “I really don’t need that much room.”
He raises a single eyebrow. “Yes, you do. We don’t have enough rooms to give you a separate nest. So take the basement. Make it your own.”
Charlotte pulls me toward the stairs. “Come see.”
I don’t resist, carefully following her down the open stairs. Her smile is so wide, brightening her entire face, as she turns at the bottom of the stairs and holds out her arm in a grand gesture.
The wood floors continue down here as well as the off-white walls that offer a brightness without hurting my eyes. It’s larger than any bedroom I’ve ever had, even in my parents’ over-the-top gated house before the dissolution this summer. The only piece of furniture is a mattress in the center of the room.
“We know you were ordering a frame, so sorry it’s on the floor,” Charlotte says apologetically. “The bathroom is through here.” She flounces across the large room and opens a door on the wall across from the wall of windows. “And there’s a small patio out here.” She points to the french doors between the windows. “It’s sunken below street level, and we were able to put in that little half-fence with Marcus’s bonus last year, so it’s actually really private.”
“Do you like it?” Megan asks, her voice a quiet juxtaposition to Charlotte’s bubbling excitement.
“Is it enough?” Charlotte asks, bouncing on her toes. “We could probably come up with another spot if you’re not totally sure. The upper floors aren’t as big as this, though. The den was an addition in the seventies, so it’s the only reason the main floor is as big as it is.”
