I should probably grab a suit for the morning. But my brain has officially jumped ship and my body and heart are officially in control as I race from my room, before turning back and sliding my feet into a pair of house slippers then run back for the garage.
Yep. Sweatpants, hoodie, and house slippers. Still don’t care.
The only concern I have as I jump back into my X5 is the fact the doorman will stop me from heading upstairs. He’ll call Hudson and wake him up, ask whether I’m permitted to get into the elevator that will take me to his floor.
Do I care? Nope.Stilldon’t. I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it, as clichéd as it sounds.
My body is officially on autopilot.
Nah. My body is officially being ruled by my heart and my heart wants my omega.
Now.
In my arms.
In my bed.
In my house.
In my fucking life.
Until death do us part and all that romantic shit.
CHAPTER 39
Hudson
Iswear I’ve rolled over for the fiftieth time since lying down for bed. I’m not even sure if that can be considered an exaggeration.
I cannot get comfortable.
I’ve slept alone for a week now and it hasn’t gotten any easier.
I don’t understand. The only difference so far is not having my sheets drenched in alpha scents and pheromones. Not like I saw them when they got home or before they left for work.
Yet every cell in my body feels as though it’s trying to rebel against my brain. Or my heart.
Maybe both.
I’m sure a big part of why I feel so out of sorts is the pregnancy hormones. Perhaps I should have done more research before agreeing to all this…shit.
I huff out a sigh and roll onto my back, staring up at the ceiling as those stupid tears burn the backs of my eyes again. Ihave cried more in the past week than I have in months. Maybe longer.
It’s only been a week and I have months to go before this child is born and I can pretend this past year never happened. I can…
What? Return to meaningless sex? Go back to waiting for packs to pay me for a chance to fulfill their fantasies?
If I had my GED I could go back to school, start taking some college classes. Maybe even attend one of those trade schools and become a barber or even something cooler like an electrician.
Except I left school my sophomore year when I was thrown out of my family home.
Why does everything suddenly feel so hopeless after living on my own for the past six years? I’ve done fine. I have a beautiful apartment in a secure building. I have a great group of friends.
I snort at my own thoughts. I haveagreat friend. The others are merely people to bar hop with, to attend concerts, get drunk and dance at clubs until the sun rises. Not once has a single one of them invited me over for dinner or included me in their family holidays.
Only Ella.
So yeah…I have one real friend. But she’s family. She’s my sister. I should count myself as blessed.
