“I don’t know,” she whispers. “I feel awful, like I’m about to climb out of my skin. The cramps come and go. I don’t think my body even knows what it needs.”
“I agree.” Pat strides back into the room with a bottle tucked under his arm. “But that’s okay. We’re going to help you relax.I’m sure the panic is intensifying the pain.” He climbs onto the bed on the other side of Charlotte, dropping the bottle, which I can now tell is lotion. He works his hand between her side and the bed, lifting her and shoving her fully onto my chest.
God.
He is such a pushy fucker.
Although, that might be what we need right now. I don’t have the first clue what I’m supposed to do. She seems a lot more coherent than they told us omegas would act when they’re going into heat.
He knocks my hand out of the way and pops the hooks on her bra.
I squint.
How the hell did he manage that one-handed? Isn’t it also customary to ask before doing something so presumptuous?
“I told you I was going to take care of you, and I think the best thing you can do is to shut your brain off.” Patrick smirks at me as he tosses the sides of her bra open and guides her straps partially down her arms. Once the material is as out of the way as it’s going to get, he grabs the lotion and squirts some onto his hand. “Maybe try purring, she liked that earlier.”
“It’s almost like they should give those classes to alphas when we’re adults rather than teenagers,” I say, trying to keep my tone light.
No one ever taught me how to do that, meaning I don’t have the first clue how to force my system to comply.
Do all alphas even have that particular skill?
We’re supposed to, I believe, but maybe my purring device is broken.
Device?
Organ?
Whatever.
Patrick rubs his hands together, leaning over Charlotte as he smooths the lotion onto her skin. “It might have felt better if I left it cool rather than warming it.” His eyes meet mine, and he nods at the omega.
Right.
He wants me to help distract her.
Her face rests against my chest, and I brush my thumb over her pink cheek. Her eyes flutter behind her closed lashes, making my heart race. She really is beautiful, and I’ve barely had the chance to focus on how monumental this moment feels. It’s too bad that I don’t have more confidence in how to take care of her.
Maybe having pushy-ass Patrick around isn’t a bad thing.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Charlotte
If I had successfully run the night Patrick and Malachy came to my apartment, I would have forgotten my suppressants. There’s a good chance I wouldn’t have realized until it was too late to go back for them, and that scares the hell out of me.
The only thing worse than feeling like I do right now would be if I was fully responsible for keeping Lucky happy.
We’ve passed a few bugs back and forth, with him getting sick first and me catching it as he’s getting better. He always tries to be well-behaved the first day, but by day two, he’s ready for me to be back to full strength.
He’s a very sweet kid.
Last time I had a cold, he told me he would take care of me, and every five minutes he’d go to the fridge and get me a new bottle of water—whether I needed it or not. There’s no way to truly rest when you’re a single parent.
Although, if I’m not careful, I’m going to get addicted to being pampered.
Patrick kneels beside me and Cormac, teasing his hands over my skin. Every inch of my body aches, but his touch is soft and soothing.
