“I have to giveyouat least five minutes,” he quips before looking back at me. His lips find mine and his fingers trail up my bare legs. Goosebumps erupt at his touch, and his mouth quarrels with mine in a way that makes my head dizzy.
Once again, my body doesn’t understand needing to recuperate, but I don’t care anymore. Who needs rest when you have mates that feel this good? I move his hand further up, beckoning him to move faster, and the sinful smile I feel against my lips pulls me all the way under.
FIFTY-FOUR
Pack life is magnificent.
It’s always the start of a beautiful day when I wake up in the arms of one of my mates, their delicious scent invading my space the second I open my eyes. Sometimes we stay in bed for a few more minutes, and sometimes we crawl out to get breakfast. Other times, we’re horny and writhing and taking advantage of every moment we have before responsibilities come to the forefront.
And it’s always different, always a different variation or a different room, and that excitement means everything to me. There’s never a set routine, or a set room to stay in, or a concrete dynamic for us to follow. On days when I need all of them, we fall asleep in my nest or my prime’s room. Sometimes, Kit will pull me into my nest and worship me for hours. Other times, it’s Thatcher and Kit, or Kit and Sam. Sometimes, I’ll get alone time with Thatcher so Sam and Kit can do the same. I especially love the times when it’s all of us jumbled up together on the couch, too tired to make it upstairs.
I still make breakfast every morning for Sam, but now Kitand Thatcher join us whenever they wake up early enough. My prime still gives me special attention when they’re there, sending me heated glances and sending naughty feelings through the bond. Then he eats and heads off to his internship. His hours have increased slightly since the summer started, but not nearly as many as they were before. Sam enjoys it, and he always makes sure to check in with each of us through the bonds while he’s away, loving the way we are available to him in a split second.
Today, we’re all home, but something feels weird in the air. All of our instincts are on high alert, and it isn’t clear why until our doorbell rings around noon.
When Sam opens the door, I see a flash of brown hair and immediately tense. My prime holds the door at a certain angle, his narrowed gaze cautious as he glances upon my now ex-friend.
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
Cindy rears back. “Sorry! Is Opal here?”
He snarls. “Yes, she is.”
“I need to see her,” she pleads. “Please. I need to tell her I’m sorry.”
Sam looks back at me, asking me for an answer. I know that if it were up to him, he’d slam the door in her face and be done with it, but he knows this is my decision. And despite the weird feeling in my gut, I know she’ll be back if I turn her away now. So, I gently nod and move forward.
“Are you sure about this, Opal?” Kit whispers at my side, Thatcher behind him with his arms crossed, standing like a bodyguard ready to protect us at a moment’s notice.
I turn back to him. “Yes. Just stay in the hallway and listen in if you want. But it’s best this happens now rather than later.”
He nods and moves away, forcing Thatcher to go with him.He looks like he wants to do anything else, but submits and leaves with Kit’s hand in his.
Sam opens the door wider and invites Cindy in. I blow out a sigh of relief that she isn’t an omega, because I wouldn’t be able to stand having her in our space since our bonding is still so fresh.
Cindy’s hair has grown out a little, but nothing else seems to have changed. It’s been a little over two months since I’ve seen her. Two months free of drama or passive-aggressive comments or my boundaries being pushed.
Two relaxing months of peace.
That should make me feel guilty when I see how stress-riddled she is, but it doesn’t. Sam walks by and kisses me on the forehead, silently letting me know that they’ll be close by if I need them.
We stand there awkwardly for a moment. I have the urge to invite her to sit, but I don’t want this meeting to be a long affair, so I restrain myself. When I almost can’t take the silence anymore, she finally opens her mouth to speak.
“I’m sorry, Opal.”
The apology feels sincere, and I can see in her eyes that she means it, but it doesn’t change anything for me.
“Thank you for that,” I reply simply, not knowing what else to say. “Is that it?”
“Wait, I wanted to say more.” She panics, her eyes a little wild but also sad. “I wanted to tell you why… why I did everything.”
That gets my heart beating a little bit faster.
“I’ve been trying to figure out why I did what I did,” she explains. “I think… ever since you became an omega, we just had different things we wanted in life. They weren’t the same anymore, so I didn’t feel as close to you. But, when you came back around during your diagnosis and asked me for help, you needed me again. We had a common purpose and I think I clung onto that.”
I blink at her, the words surprising me.
“You confided in me and I felt like my friend finally needed me again. I think I sent you on a few dates with assholes so you would keep dating. So you would keep needing me to find people. After you found someone or your pack, you wouldn’t need me anymore, and I didn’t want to feel like that again.”
