It’s that the line of his spine dips in and forms a furrow that clearly leads to his ass.
I take a deep breath through my mouth and try to compose myself.
Lucien closes his eyes and leans his face under the spout. He closes his lips too, pouting adorably, and it looks almost like he’s kissing the water.
God. The water is lucky.
When he finally steps out of the shower, water droplets glisten on the tips of his eyelashes and the scent of his skin briefly overwhelms me. The urge to help him, to put my hands on him, is almost too much.
He’s my omega. My lovely, hot little omega.
I want to wrap a towel around him tightly and rub him dry. I want to touch him all over his body. I want to kiss every inch of his skin and be close to him. I want to take care of him, and I want to make the bond sing until he screams himself hoarse again.
“It’s all yours,” he says, shocking the shit out of me.
“I, er, what do you mean?” I splutter like a fool.
I take a surreptitious step away from him and aim my gaze directly at his eyes. Sadly, my aim is wonky, and my eyes land on the floor, the ceiling, and the wall tile before landing on him.
His eyes narrow slightly, as though he has a suspicion that I may not be all that bright, but he’s determined to make the best of a bad situation. “The shower,” he clarifies. “It’s yours.”
24
Lucien
Bransonisbeingweird,and it’s making me act weird. It’s a big worry because anyone who knows me at all knows I can ill-afford to act weirder than I usually do.
We’re practically on top of each other in the apartment, yet he seems determined to stay as far away from me as possible. I can only assume he’s secretly angry with me about something. He’s probably furious that I asked him to bite me now that he’s sobered up from my heat. He’s probably realized I’m irritating and that I talk too much. He’s probably regretting all his life choices.
Oh my God. How awful.
It’s an emotional roller coaster because every time the way he’s behaving—all standoffish and distant—upsets me, the bond quakes from me to him, and I know he can feel it. It’s a hellish loop where I upset him, and then he upsets me, and I don’t know how to make it stop.
The worst of it is that there’s only one person who understands me well enough for me to unleash the full extent of my hysteria about what’s happening without fear of being judged, and that’s Jenson. My ex-boyfriend turned best friend, who happens to be Branson’s brother.
Correction: it’s Jensen, Branson’s brother, and my ex-boyfriend turned best friend, turnedbrother-in-law.
I look down at my phone again and scroll through a barrage of messages from him.
Jensen: OMG, tell me you didn’t go to the cabin?
There’s a major storm on the way, Lu.
Lucien: Of course I went to the cabin, and it is a catastrophe, Jensen! I repeat, it is a catastrophe.
Lucien: Branson says the power is going to go out. Is that true? Because you know there’s no way I can survive without a hair dryer.
Lucien: Oh God. There’s no TV here either.
Lucien: Whyyyy did you make me come up here? You know I’m not one who thrives in the wild.
Jensen: You’ll be fiiiiiine.
Jensen: Are you okay?
Jensen: Oh, this is awful. I should have called you to make sure you knew the trip was canceled. I thought it was weird when you didn’t message. I’m so sorry, Lulu!
Jensen: Don’t worry about Branson, okay? He’s safe. You’ll be fine with him.
