The Negrorio house is chaos.
Sergio's in his office on a video call with the league, his voice carrying through the closed door in sharp, clipped sentences about roster changes and contract negotiations. Pedro's at the clinic dealing with some kind of emergency involving a kid who stuck a bead up his nose. Nacho got called into the station an hour ago for a domestic disturbance that's apparently still ongoing based on the three texts he's sent apologizing for missing dinner.
Which leaves me alone in the kitchen, staring at the lasagna I pulled from the oven ten minutes ago, wondering if I should just eat the whole damn thing myself.
The house creaks above me. Footsteps. Light and quick.
Jessica appears at the bottom of the stairs wearing jeans that hug every curve and one of my hoodies, the grey one with the Largo Waters Hockey logo across the chest. It swallows her whole, sleeves hanging past her hands, hem hitting mid-thigh. Her hair is down, blonde waves tumbling over her shoulders, and she's barefoot despite the hardwood being cold enough to make my own feet ache.
"Hey." She stops at the edge of the kitchen, fingers tugging at the hoodie sleeves. "Everyone gone?"
"Sergio's upstairs. But yeah, basically." I lean against the counter and cross my arms. "You okay?"
"I'm going insane." The words tumble out fast, desperate. "I've been in that room for hours. In the nest. Just sitting there. Rearranging things. Moving blankets two inches to the left. Then two inches back. My brain won't shut off."
"What's it saying?"
"Everything." She moves into the kitchen, circling the island like she can't stand still. "Friday's coming. Callum's coming. My heat's coming. All these things I can't control barreling toward me like freight trains, and I'm just supposed to sit there and wait for impact."
I watch her pace. Watch the way her hips sway with each step, the way the hoodie shifts and reveals flashes of skin at her waist. Watch her hands flutter and twist, unable to settle.
"You need to get out of the house," I say.
She stops. Turns to face me. "What?"
"Out. Away. Take your mind off things for a few hours." I push off the counter and grab my keys from the hook by the door. "Come on. I know a place."
"Carlos, I can't just leave. What if Pedro comes back and I'm not here? What if something happens?"
"Pedro's elbow deep in a kid's nose. He won't be back for at least two hours." I shrug into my jacket and toss her the spare. "And nothing's going to happen. We'll be twenty minutes away. Tops."
Jessica catches the jacket. Holds it against her chest. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see." I grin. "Trust me."
She hesitates. I see the war in her eyes. The part that wants to stay safe, stay in the nest, stay in control fighting against the part that's screaming for escape.
The escape wins.
"Okay." She pulls on the jacket. "Let's go."
The truck rumbles to life in the driveway, heater blasting cold air that gradually warms as we pull onto Main Street. Jessica sits in the passenger seat with her feet tucked under her, hands wrapped around the seatbelt like it's the only thing keeping her tethered.
"You going to tell me where we're going?" she asks as we pass the pharmacy, the post office, the diner and Hayley, the owner waves from the window.
"Nope."
"Is it far?"
"Nope."
"Are you always this helpful?"
"Absolutely." I turn left onto Oakwood Drive, heading toward the edge of town where the houses thin out and the trees take over. "How's the nest coming?"
She groans and lets her head fall back against the seat. "It's a disaster. I keep adding things and taking things away and nothing feels right. Pedro said it's normal, that omegas get particular about their nests when heat's approaching, but I feel like I'm losing my mind."
"You're not losing your mind." I glance over at her. "You're just building something. Making it perfect. That's what you do, Jess. You make things."
