“Yeah,” I say, cutting off her worry. “This is more than enough.”
Then I focus on Megan and Marcus where they flank me. Megan silently sets the backpack just to the right of the stairs, and Marcus puts the duffel beside it before taking the second one from me.
And then he’s pulling me toward him, his gaze so intense my breath catches. His lips are soft but insistent, and the rest of the room falls away. His nutmeg explodes in an instant, and I can’t help but groan.
“Welcome home,” he whispers.
A wealth of emotion bubbles up my throat, and I have no idea what to say. His gaze sharpens, and I know he can feel it all. It’s only the first day I’ve been fully off the suppressors, and already it feels so normal, so natural to feel his smug satisfaction and soft wonder.
I clear my throat. “So boba?”
Twenty-Five
CHARLOTTE
“Your furniture’s getting delivered tomorrow, right?” Megan asks from where she walks on the other side of Cole, their hands intertwined.
It’s a much more sedate and reasonable way to be walking toward one of the restaurants that sells boba nearby than the way I’m practically plastered to his side, my fingers laced with his and my other holding tight to his elbow. It’s absolutely excessive, and yet I can’t seem to put a fraction of space between us. Just the thought has a growl building in my throat. Like he can sense the sudden aggression, Cole squeezes and runs his thumb along the back of my hand.
“I’m still waiting for the final expected time frame, but yes, it’s supposed to be tomorrow.”
“Great, we can spend tomorrow getting you truly settled, then,” she says with a warm smile. She glances around Cole and focuses on me. “How many classes do you have tomorrow morning?”
We pause at the streetlight, waiting for our chance to cross the street.
“Just my typical two. Mina didn’t mention me needing to cover any of the others, and I’ll turn her down if she asks about adding any on while there.”
Marcus leans forward, letting his lips brush Cole’s ear as he whispers something. And in one of those movie-perfect moments of timing, a taxi blasts its horn, drowning out whatever he might be saying. Cole relaxes, his shoulders dropping away from his ears just a bit. The need to plaster myself to him, to dig myself under his skin, lessens. It’s such a sudden change, it takes my breath.
Note to self: if you’re feeling especially touchy, your Omega might just be nervous about something.
The light finally changes, and we walk the last half-block to the restaurant. As soon as we’re inside the small cafe, Cole relaxes even more, and I can breathe a bit better. We order our drinks and then Megan leads us to one of the tables on the patio outside, adjusting the chairs so we’re all in the shade. Marcus sits between me and Cole, his hand skimming Cole’s shoulder the entire time he’s situating himself.
He’s the only one of us who hasn’t actually ordered boba, opting for a tea instead.
“You don’t like it?” Cole asks.
Marcus shakes his head. I lace my fingers with his, and he smiles softly, kissing the back of my hand before focusing on Cole again.
“Never have, but Megs and Lottie both love it, so we come every couple weeks. Sometimes more often, especially in the summer.”
“Lottie?” Cole looks over at me. “Like Phantom of the Opera?”
My cheeks flush as I shrug. “I… might have been a little too obsessed with the movie when I was younger.”
Cole laughs, and the sound is so full of life, it’s practically a balm to my soul, easing away some of the nerves of all the changes happening so quickly over the last month.
The afternoon slips by in laughs and smiles and quietly offered tidbits from each of us. The patio is warm without being stifling, a soft breeze keeping the air from being too stagnant.
After a longer lull in conversation, Cole clears his throat and sets his nearly empty drink on the metal table.
“So, my dads are going to be in town Sunday for a fundraiser of some kind,” he says after a while, running a finger over his collarbone. “They were curious about getting dinner afterward and meeting you.”
Nerves slither under my skin, making me antsy, but I suppress the reaction. Meet his fathers? It feels way too soon for that. He literally just got off a plane and knocked on our door only a couple hours ago. Which, to be fair, the Council’s standard timeline is pretty condensed. Thirty days is a short amount of time to figure out if the pack is going to work long-term, so it makes sense that all of these milestones would happen on an expedited timeline. But meeting family after only being matched a week feels like we’re jinxing the match for some reason.
I swallow the last of my drink while I sort through the mixed emotions. Marcus squeezes my hand in silent support, reading me better than anyone else in the world.
“We’d love to meet them,” Megan says.
