“Have we paid theviejayet?” I mumble, sprawled face down in bed, freshly showered and naked.
I suppose it’s not nice to call our host an old lady, but I’m tired and cranky. I need to have a heat soon. It’s just so fucking inconvenient.
“I paid her today,” Harlan says, straddling my ass to begin massaging my back. “She made sure to warn me that we’ll be kicked out soon if someone needs our room. We’ll have to figure something out if that happens. We aren’t leaving Widows Peak.”
“No we’re not,” I murmur, my lids getting heavy. “Fuck. Harlan, get off. I’m gonna be sick.”
Pushing him off me, I scramble to the waste basket and begin puking. Kyren comes in quickly, eyes wide as he sees me.
“Was the food bad?” he asks. “I feel fine. Harlan?”
“I’m good,” he promises. “Kyren, go get some ice from the kitchen, please?”
I can’t see anything as my stomach clenches hard.
“Ow, fuck,” I groan. Choking, I throw up again.
Harlan rubs a cold water bottle over my neck as I shudder and moan pitifully. My skin feels clammy too.
“Are you sick?” he asks. “Or is this a breakthrough heat?”
“No,” I rasp to both. “I’m taking my meds, and I shouldn’t be sick. The burger was fine. Well, it tasted great going down, but up is another story.”
“Ew,” Harlan says. “It could be a stomach bug? We haven’t really been around anyone, since we’ve been working on Silva’s house.”
Shrugging, I drink some water, and when Kyren comes back, I take the bag of ice and lay down with it on my head while hetakes away the garbage. Harlan opens up a window to air out the smell, and I attempt to close my eyes.
I need more time. I know these signs, but I don’t want to give voice to it. Closing my eyes, I beg my meds to hold out for a little longer without making me insane.
Harlan
Frowning as I drive back to Silva’s, I glance at Izzy as he closes his eyes against the early morning sunlight. I’m worried about him. I know what this is. I’m not fucking stupid.
I know my omega, even though he doesn’t live like one. Hormones always win out, despite the medications he’s on. He’s nearing his one year mark of being on them, which means we’re in for a rocky ride.
There’s no damn way that we can have his heat at the bed and breakfast. He is still adamant that we keep his secrets. A part of him thinks Sloane and my brother would refuse to trust him at their backs if they knew that he’s an omega.
Holding my tongue, I pull up to Silva’s house. The neighborhood is just waking up, and it’s still quiet out. We do our best to be respectful of the early hour, and I’m just glad that we’re not replacing her roof.
Speaking of which, I did check it while I was on the roof yesterday. It looks great, and it should last her a few more years. Most of what her house needs is cosmetic.
“We’re here,” I say quietly, turning off the car. “Do you want to stay in the SUV today? Kyren and I can handle the rest today.”
“No,” Izzy says, opening his eyes with effort. “I’ll take it easy, I promise.”
“I don’t want you on a ladder,” Kyren growls. “Paint the front door and the shutters today. I’ll be pissed if you fall off the roof.”
“Yes, Daddy,” Izzy mutters under his breath, pushing open the door.
Kyren waits until the door shuts to meet my gaze and I nod to show him that I see what’s happening. Izzy was really sick all last night, and woke up with a migraine. There are a pair of sunglasses firmly on his face, as well as a ball cap to keep out the light. He should be in a dark room sleeping, instead of outside trying to court an omega that hasn’t shown any interest in him.
Okay, that’s unfair. He’s doing this because Kyren and I fucked up. I think that since we committed the crime, we should do the time and not drag him into our problems. Right?
Unfortunately, that’s not how things work with Izzy. If one of us is in the dog house, then we all are.
“We’ll make sure he takes it easy,” I grunt, getting out of the car.
Izzy is opening a can of paint as I walk up the stairs, but he’s frowning as he mixes it.
