“Don’t return them—“ I say, burying my face in his neck. “Please don’t.”
“You haven’t even felt them yet. What if you hate them? I’ve been doing a lot of research, and sometimes omegas are really sensitive to the kinds of fabrics that’re in their nest.”
“I’ll love them all, I promise. Please don’t take them away.”
“I won’t take ‘em away if you don’t want ‘em gone, so you’ve got nothing to worry about, Sugar.”
“Good,” I say, squeezing him even tighter.
“Big fan of you wrapped around me like this,” he chuckles under his breath. “But don’t you want to try them out? Give ‘em a feel?”
I nod against his neck, inhaling his clean basil scent one last time before I slide down his body.
He glances away, the tips of his ears pink as he clears his throat.
“Like I said, I got you a few different kits, but I made sure they had a fitted top sheet since I know you like making that tent thing onmy bed.”
My hands sink into fluffy fabrics and squishy pillows, and I can’t keep the unbridled joy I’m feeling off my expression.
“This is amazing!” I say, immediately trying to drag two of the kits at the same time to the bedroom.
“Here, let me help you,” he laughs, hefting one onto his shoulder.
I spend the next who-knows-how-long assembling the nest with Rowan. He dutifully follows all of my instructions, even if they’re a little silly and annoying, like “no, don’t fluff the pillow vertically, do it horizontally!” and “no, no, that blanket goes down first!”
When we’re done, a new fitted sheet with little strawberries is stretched over the top of Rowan’s bed, hanging from the headboard and hooking around the corners of the footboard, creating a little tent. Inside, there’s a cozy circle of new pillows and a whole pile of new fuzzy blankets and thick comforters.
It looks like heaven.
Tears fill my eyes as I crawl inside, hugging my knees to my chest.
“You like it?” Rowan asks, leaning down to peek through the opening on the side of the bed.
This nest looks amazing, better than I ever could’ve imagined, with all the new, pretty, and soft fabrics surrounding me. But there’s something missing.
“I love it,” I croak out, scooting to the side and patting the bed beside me.
“You want... me? Inside your nest?”
I give him a jerky nod, my throat closing in as my heart races out of my chest. His hesitancy seems to confirm to me that there’s a heaviness, a weight, to my request. I guess an omega asking someone to enter their nest is a big deal.
He eases into the small space slowly, as if he’s expecting me to ask him to leave at any moment.
But I don’t.
I want him in here.
As he settles in my nest, leaning against the pillows by the headboard so he doesn’t bump the low-hanging canopy, that sense of emptiness eases. I curl up next to him, resting my head against his chest.
“Wh—whoa, are you okay, Sugar?”
I clutch at his t-shirt, pressing my face into the fabric to soak up all of his scent.
But there’s still something missing. It’s not enough.
I let out a frustrated sound from the back of my throat.
Rowan’s hand instantly flies up to push some of my hair away from my face.
