I smile. “You have me.” I look at Opal and find that she’s already watching me. The dark shadows under her eyes show her exhaustion, so I take the box in her arms. “Let me show you to your room.”
She nods, which prompts me to take charge as I lead her back to the house. I stumble a bit to open the door, but when I do, it opens wide, and Opal inhales sharply. I look at her as she holds her hand up to her nose, almost blocking it. “Are you okay, Opal?”
She startles when she catches me watching her. “I’m fine,” she says. “Sorry, I was trying not to sneeze. Allergies.”
“Let me know if I can get you anything for that.”
We walk quietly then, all the way to her room. It’s been empty for a while, besides some furniture and a bed. Sam didn’t know what to do with it, but we assumed it could be used as a guest room.
Now, it belongs solely to Opal.
“Here we are,” I say as we enter. I set the box on the bed and then turn back around. “I’ll get the rest of the boxes, and you all can get started.”
They barely give me an answer before I walk out, determined not to let them lift another finger. By the time all of the boxes are in her room, I’m out of breath and sweating, my scent much more pungent than usual.
Darn those alphas for being busy today.
I set down the last box and sigh with relief, accidentally pouring out more of my scent. Opal tenses, and I instantly curse myself. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m not used to physical labor. I’m cursing us for getting a house with such a steep driveway, to be honest.”
The other two omegas laugh, but Opal doesn’t move. Her nervous energy bleeds towards me, making me wince. Maybe I came on too strongly. My scent is suddenly all over her stuff, and I realize that’s usually not proper omega etiquette. I swipe my hand over the box I just put down like it’ll wipe my scent off it, but it all stays just the same.
“I’m going to—” I point over my shoulder and clear my throat. “I’m going to let you get settled and unpacked. I’ll be in the living room if you need anything or need to find anything.”
Opal stares at me like a deer-in-headlights, so Rory clears her throat, pulling her out of whatever she was thinking about. She finally cracks a meek smile, nodding her head. “Thank you, Kit. I appreciate all your help.”
I shut the door behind me and linger for a moment, my hand refusing to come off the doorknob. Then I curse to myself, becauseI’mbeing a doorknob. I let go and walk back to the main part of the house, and begin the waiting game once more.
Rory and Stacialeave about an hour after I made a fool of myself. My attempt at playing my comfort game once more is, yet again, fruitless. Still, I focus on it as much as I can ratherthan getting up to check on Opal constantly like a stalker. One that lives down the hall from her. One who can’t stop thinking about whether or not she feels comfortable in her new room.
I hold out for as long as I can, but then I hear something rustling down the hall. When I get to the supply closet, I make a few clicking noises. “Jemma,” I whisper, trying not to disturb Opal just a few doors down. “You know you’re not supposed to be in there, here girl…”
But when I open the door all the way, I don’t see Jemma. It’s Opal, going through the supplies that are—I must admit—not very organized. When she sees me, her eyes widen, and she almost falls off the step ladder she’s on, but steadies herself quickly. She looks at me with the cutest scowl I’ve ever seen. “What did you just call me?” she asks, slightly out of breath.
I open my mouth to answer, but then focus on where she’s holding a hand cloth in one hand and a toilet paper roll in the other. I quirk a brow at her, amused. “What are you doing?” I ask. The scowl disappears as she looks back at the items that she’s holding. The cute way her forehead scrunches as she thinks about whether or not to lie to me makes me smile.
Finally, she heaves a sigh. “I made a little bit of a mess in my room by trying to use my portable stove, so I was looking for paper towels.”
My brows furrow. “Why were you using your portable stove?”
She shrugs, a blush creeping across her cheeks. “I didn’t want to bother you by asking a million questions about where everything is in the kitchen. It felt like staying in my room was the best idea.”
Fuck, I’m already messing this up. “I’m sorry, Opal. I was worrying about the same thing. I wanted to come make sure you were comfortable, but I didn’t want it to feel like I was hovering.”
She nods. “I’m sorry, too. I should have just asked.”
I shake my head. “No, I should have made it clearer that you could ask me for anything. This is your home now, too. I want you to be relaxed here. You can go anywhere you want and ask any number of questions that you need until it feels like second nature, okay?”
Opal’s smile eases some of the tension in my body. I reach down and pick up a roll of paper towels and hand it to her. “You can keep this. We can talk about groceries and everything later this week. It’s kind of a ritual for Sam. It makes him feel better.
“Me too, actually,” she says, chuckling slightly as we walk out of the closet and back to her room.
“I’m sorry, again, that it felt like I was leaving you to the wolves. The truth is, I’ve been playing my favorite game all day to distract myself so you can be comfortable in your own space without someone crowding you.”
Her face flickers with something close to surprise at my statement. “That’s okay. What were you playing?” she asks in a slightly excited tone, like she’s sincerely curious.
Her question causes me to hesitate. She gives me an eager look, like my answer will matter to her in some way. When I talk to Sam or Thatcher about video games, they have no idea what I’m talking about, so there’s no pressure to state my opinion. Now, for some reason, I feel slightly nervous.
“Oh,” I start, rubbing my neck so I can do something with my hand. Her eyes go to my bicep for a moment, and I know I’m being awkward. She can’t even maintain eye contact with me. “Ori and the Blind Forest.”
