Nest. Nest. Nest.
A sound escapes my throat as my omega makes up her mind about having the spot there. It's high-pitched and needy. A whine.
All three alphas go rigid.
"Are you okay, angel?" Felix starts toward me.
"I need—" The words tangle on my tongue. What do I need? Everything. Nothing. Just... "Blankets. All the blankets."
"Naomi." Liam's voice is careful. "You should sit down."
But I'm already moving, grabbing a throw from the couch. It smells like Felix and I bury my nose in it for one dizzying second before my nesting instincts are stronger and I manage to get back to my business.
“Pillows,” I blurt. “Every pillow in this house. The cushions too. Oh, and make a fire." I'm dropping everything in the empty space in front of the hearth. Something inside me is frantic, pacing a cage. "I need—”
"Angel, relax, we'll do this for you," Silas offers, stepping toward me.
"No!" The word comes out sharp, almost a growl.
They all freeze and heat floods my face, hot from embarrassment on top of my actual heat. I drag in a breath, try again.
“I just…” My throat works around the words. “I need to do this. Me. But I—I could really use more stuff. Blankets, comforters, anything soft. From everywhere.” I finally look up at them. “And a fire. Please.”
Something clicks in Liam’s gaze. His mouth parts. “Oh,” he says softly. “You’re nesting.”
The word hangs between us for half a beat.
Then all three move at once, scattering in different directions.
"Linen closets," Silas calls, already heading down the hall.
"Guest rooms," Liam adds, taking the stairs two at a time.
"Suite," Felix says, disappearing around the corner.
I stand there, watching them mobilize. Within seconds, Silas is back with an armful of quilts. Liam thunders down the stairs with blankets spilling from his arms. Felix returns with throws and pillows.
They dump everything in a growing mountain in front of the hearth and immediately spin out again. Hallway doors open and close. Closet hinges creak. Blankets keep appearing, pillows, afghans, a heavy comforter…
"Is this enough?" Felix pants, adding another load.
I shake my head. Not enough.
They keep bringing more until the pile is enormous. Silas finally starts the fire, and, with all that, something in my chest loosens slightly. This is better.
"Wait!" I blurt as they turn to leave again. My face burns. "Your jerseys. The ones you're wearing. Can I—"
I don’t even need to finish.
Silas peels his jersey off in one smooth motion, undershirt coming with it. Liam’s sweater and tee follow, showing his lean muscle. Felix’s shirt drags up over his golden skin and abs, and the heat in my body surges so violently I have to grab the back of the couch to stay upright.
I missed that sight. They're so fucking hot.
“Here you are, angel,” Silas says, already tossing his jersey onto the pile.
“Anything you need,” Liam adds quietly, dropping his.
Felix winks. “My jersey is your jersey."
