Coffee sounded divine, but Camelia bit back the words as she swallowed. Her backpack was sitting innocently on the dining table, and she walked over to grab it, slinging it across her shoulder with a practiced move as she shook her head. "Ah, no. Thank you."
"I'm making breakfast. You should eat." Evan's voice was steady as he looked at her, and he flipped an omelet in the pan without looking at it. It was fairly impressive, but didn't explain the way Camelia's pussy clenched as she watched muscles of his forearm bunch with the motion. The asshole was shirtless as he cooked, of course, and Camelia couldn't stop her eyes from stroking down his bare torso with the hunger of someone whohadn'tjust spent the last...however long fucking his brains out.
Or having him fuck her brains out. Whatever. Either way, the man had no business being as attractive as he was.
Camelia spotted her shoes on the floor next to the sliding glass door to the backyard, and she brushed past James to scoop them up and dangle them from her fingers. "I'm okay. Really, thank you, though. I..." She flushed, and Evan's eyes twinkled with knowledge as he leaned back against the counter. "I appreciate what you did. For me. There's..." A lump rose in her throat, one she steadfastly swallowed before it could make tears prick in her eyes. "There's not a lot of guys who would have done that. For..."
"An unclaimed Omega?" James cocked his head to the side, taking another casual sip from his cup. "I imagine there's a lot of men who would have paid good money to be with you for the last nine days, sweetheart."
Camelia's mouth was already open, ready to argue when the impact of his words hit. "Nine days?" she choked.
Evan nodded, flipping the omelet in the pan one more time before pulling it out and putting it on a plate. "Two of the days were the weekend, but yeah."
"Fuck." Camelia dug her phone out of her purse and turned it on, ignoring the low battery signal as she was hit with a barrage of messages and notifications. More than a dozen from her father, a few from Aria. One from her roommate, asking snidely if she was ever going to be coming back to their room, or if she would be remiss to put up a 'roommate wanted' sign.
Camelia's legs were suddenly weak underneath her, and she leaned heavily against the wall as she tucked her phone back in her purse. James and Evan watched her carefully, and she knew that she wasn't imagining the hint of concern on both their faces. "I've...my heats have...never..." she said weakly.
"How long has it been since you went through heat?" James asked gently. More gently than Camelia might have expected from him.
She shook her head. "I started taking suppressants..." She thought, counting back quickly and wincing. "A little over eightmonths ago. There was...an incident. And afterwards I didn't want to be caught vulnerable again."
Like when Evan found me in the quad.
Evan's expression had darkened, and he folded his arms across his chest. "What kind of incident?" he asked, the words clipped.
Camelia shook her head, the memories already threatening to push past the safe barriers that she had erected to protect her from them. "Don't wanna talk about it. Anyway," she hurried, speaking quickly before one of them could interrupt her again. "I...haven't had to go through heat since. But my prescription was delayed, and I ran out. I usually plan better than that, but this time I was caught off guard..."
Suddenly James was in front of her, his hands soothingly stroking her arms. His gray gaze was intense as he looked down at her, and Camelia was struck by the sudden, irrational urge to reach up and brush away the lock of hair that fell over his eyes. "It wasn't your fault," he said. His voice was soft but brooked no argument, and Camelia swallowed hard. She wanted to look away, wanted to make a casual quip or do something,anythingto break the tension, but she couldn't.
Not when he was looking at her like he was about three seconds away from locking her in the building with him and Evan and never letting her go.
"Right," she finally whispered. "I...I know that. But it means that I need to get my prescription filled." She winced. "And call my dad. I'm sure he's worried sick about me."
"I gave him updates," Evan said, drawing Camelia's attention. He was watching her and James with a spark of...something in his eyes, but it was gone before Camelia could decide what it was. "He took care of your absence from school. Nurse should have a sick note on file excusing you from class until such time as you're able to go back."
Camelia swallowed. "Oh. Okay. That's good. Still. I should..." She slowly backed away, ducking around James and reaching the door to the kitchen despite a low tug in her gut screaming at her to stay. "I should go. Make sure my roommate hasn't given away my bed, and all that." She bit her lip, not missing the way both men's eyes immediately dropped to her mouth, and she lifted one hand in a pathetic wave. "I'll...see you on campus. Really. Thank you."
She turned, and she was almost completely out of the kitchen before Evan spoke again. “You might want these, if you’re leaving.”
She turned and saw her car keys dangling from his finger, a casual smirk on his face. “I found them in your bag while you were sleeping, so I went and got your car. Figured you wouldn’t want a ticket for abandoning it on campus.”
Camelia flushed, and she steadfastly ignored James as he quickly crossed the kitchen to snatch her keys from Evan’s hand. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Before she could turn to try and leave again, though, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. His body was warm where hers brushed against it, and she couldn’t stop herself from whimpering a little as her pussy clenched at the contact. His eyes were intense on her as he looked down at her, and his voice low when he spoke. “Let us know when you get home. I put our numbers in your phone.”
That was all he said, and then he released her again, allowing her to stumble back. Camelia swallowed, unable to look away from Evan for several steps as she backed away, and finally she tore her gaze away and turned to rush out of the house, barely brushing past James in her hurry to leave. The brief contact made sparks erupt in her belly, and she ignored the voice in her head calling her a coward as she fled.
Chapter twenty-seven
James
It was nearly impossible for James to keep himself from rushing right out the front door the second he heard the latch click into place. The sudden silence in the house was deafening, broken only by the sizzling of the pan as Evan cooked another omelet, and a low growl rose in his chest.
It wasn't right that she was leaving. She shouldn't be gone. She belonged there, in their house, withthem.
"James," Evan said quietly. He said it firmly enough that James jerked his head to look his way, and Evan's eyes were hard as he set the plate with the already-cooked omelet in front of him. He nodded at the still-steaming food, and set his jaw tightly. "Eat."
James wanted to protest, the words were on the tip of his tongue to tell Evan to fuckrightoff, but then he noticed the tension in Evan's shoulders. The way that he was holding himself tightly, the smooth, controlled motion of his arms andhands as he turned back to the stove to give the rest of breakfast his attention.
