I hardly ever know which city we’re in unless I check the cheat sheet on our playlist set on stage or one of the reporters mentions it in a question.
I’ve had a lot of fun traveling, and the first month or two were some of the best times of my life. It’s just hard to stay optimistic and to show up to put on killer performances when the suppressants have me constantly ill.
I thought about it a lot last night, and I’m going to quit them as soon as we’ve honored our commitment for this tour.
I’ve been on suppressants for three years straight with no breaks. When I was first prescribed them, the doctor mentioned it was unhealthy to take them for longer than twenty-four months without at least a year off in between.
My last doctor didn’t want to give me any refills, which left me scrambling to find a new physician right before we left. Luckily, I did, but I lied and told him I’d only been on suppressants for a little less than a year. I’m sure he could have verified through the pharmacy, but I specifically made sure my medical records weren’t sent over in time for our appointment.
It’s sobering to realize the lengths I went to in order to secure another year’s worth of refills on my prescription.
And for what?
To consistently feel like shit?
I sigh heavily, and Declan’s arm jolts as his fingers stretch across my stomach. I’m not sure how I was planning to get out of here without waking him, but I was going to come up with some kind of awesome escape plan.
That’s ruined now.
I’m shocked he even let me into his bunk last night. I didn’t know what was bothering him, but I could tell it was serious. Even from all the way in my room, it felt like I couldn’t breathe.
All omegas are sensitive to the emotions of those around us. It’s one of those things left over in our biology from when the world was a more dangerous place for omegas. My designation was hunted and even kidnapped by alphas back before there were laws to protect us. Being able to sense someone else’s emotions or intentions is an excellent way to gauge when it’s time to run.
Despite all of that, I’ve never felt another person’s pain as acutely as I experienced his last night.
“Morning, Princess Nash,” Declan rumbles close to my ear as he stretches. “Jesus. I don’t even know what year it is. I slept like a fucking rock. I never get a good night’s sleep on the bus.”
My insides light up like he praised me for being the reason he slept well. It might have been the beer he downed before stomping off to his bunk, but my instincts would like to take credit.
Jeez.
How cliché of an omega can I be?
Do I really want to be the woman who lights up over soothing aman? But it’s more complex than that, isn’t it? Alpha and omega dynamics just are. They don’t have to make logical sense.
“I’m glad you slept well,” I say, my voice coming out more like a croak.
That’s embarrassing.
I always keep a bottle of water next to my bed in the back room of the bus, and I could really use a long swig right now.
“How about you?” he asks, his words coming out a low, rumbly growl.
My toes wiggle, and I stretch my legs. There’s no pain thundering in my temples, which is a pretty consistent symptom that I wake up with most days.
Don’t tell me spending a night wrapped up in alpha pheromones fixed me…
That’s not possible.
Is it?
Am I really so stubborn that I would cut off my nose to spite my face?
My family would say yes. I mean, they would say it lovingly, but they would absolutely agree that I am exactly that resolute.
“I slept hard too. Do you know what time it is?” I ask, trying to get my bearings.
“Let me find my phone.” Declan moves around, and I instantly miss his warmth.
