Maybe it could really be this easy.
The devil invented crutches in the attempt to ruin the armpit of anyone who unfortunately needs the torture devices. I’ve been bitching about them non stop as me and my poor aching pits make our way to the kitchen.
I sit at the dining room table because it’s too hard for me to reach the stools right now. I have another doctor’s appointment in a week and I’m really hoping he lets me switch to a boot. As much as I love the guys taking care of me hand and foot, I would like to leave the house at some point.
Particularly to go to the craft store. I need something to keep me busy and I feel a few craft projects might do the trick.
None of the guys are in the kitchen, so I scroll through my phone. I haven’t posted on socials since coming and living in Philadelphia, but my inbox is filled to the brim with bullshit.
People are messaging me asking what happened between me and Smash Knot. Others message to tell me it’s about time, and they have no idea how I was their companion at all. I feel like a masochist as I read through them and even click over to my requests folder.
It’s a faceless profile with a username full of random numbers. My stupid self clicks it.
Please come back home. I promise, I’ll take pack lead from Nick. I miss you, please Shiloh. I never wanted it to be like this -Danny.
I keep it in requests and close out the app and take a deep breath. If I’m being honest, Danny is probably why I stayed for so long. Danny always stayed for my whole heat. He tried to make sure I was okay on tour. But the moment Nick would bark an order, he would immediately shrink away and put the pack Alpha’s needs over my own.
“Special delivery,” Jonah’s booming voice says from down the hallway as he comes scooting along into the dining room.
My cheeks hurt from smiling as I look at the device. “And what’s that?”
“It’s called a KneeRover, no more crutches.”
He noticed me.
He saw that I was hurting and did something about it.
It’s so fucking small, so stupid, but I can’t help it as a rogue tear falls down my heated cheeks.
“Hey, hey. What’s this about?” Jonah asks, getting down on his knees, his large palms on my thighs.
“They’re good tears, I think,” I say with a self deprecated laugh.
“Why don’t we take this puppy for a spin, anywhere you want to go.”
“Anywhere?”
“Wherever your Omega heart desires.”
“Can we go to the craft store?”
“Let me look up the best one in the area,” he says, kissing me on the side of my head and leaving me with my pink scooter.
It takes less than eight minutes to get to the store, it honestly takes us longer to find parking. In the grand scheme of things, we probably would have gotten here faster if we walked, but Jonah refused, saying that it was too cold and not when I’m learning to use my little scooter.
Maybe I swooned over his protectiveness. But I’m just an Omega after all. Once we park, Jonah sets up my scooter and we’re inside Blick Art Materials.
This place is my dream, and I didn’t even know it was here.
“Do you think the cart on the front of your scooter will be enough?” he asks as I lean my weight and push with the other.
“Oh, I’m sure it will be,” I lie, considering the amount of yarn I know I’ll need for my intended projects.
“I’ll grab another basket just in case.”
I will not perfume in the craft store. I will not…My body betrays me like the chaotic bitch always does.
I expect irritation from Jonah, but he just pets down my hair, not even mentioning it.
