"You keep saying that."
"Because it keeps being true."
His grip tightens on my hip. I feel the pressure through every layer of borrowed clothing.
"If I asked you to stay." My voice is barely audible. "During my heat. Would you?"
Something dark flares in his eyes. Something hungry.
"Yes."
"And the others?"
"They'd stay too." His voice is rough enough to strike matches on. "We've talked about it. All of us. We know what we want."
"Which is?"
"You." The word drops between us like a bomb. "All of you. Every piece. Every version. The mess and the brilliance and everything in between."
I'm going to cry. Or scream. Or climb him like a tree and see what happens.
Instead I say: "I'm still scared."
"I know." His free hand cups the back of my neck. Steadying. Grounding. "You can be scared and still say yes. You can be scared and still let us take care of you."
"I don't know how to be taken care of."
"Then let us teach you."
His forehead drops to rest against mine. We're sharing breath, and scents now.
"Three or four days," I whisper.
"Maybe less."
"I'm not ready."
"You will be." His lips brush my forehead. Light. Careful. A promise more than a kiss. "We'll make sure of it."
He pulls away. The cold rushes in to fill the space where his warmth used to be.
"Rest today. Eat protein. Drink water." He's back to doctor mode, but his voice is still rough. His eyes are still dark. "Your body is preparing for something intense. Give it what it needs."
"Okay."
"And Jessica?"
"Yeah?" Carlos grins.
"One small request. Let us know when you take our clothes. Nacho has been searching for a sweater all week. We love that you want to smell like us…it’s kinda cute.”
He leaves before I can respond.
I sink onto the edge of my nest and stare at the door he just walked through.
Three or four days. Maybe less.
My heat is coming. My first real heat. And four alphas are waiting to help me through it.
