The last thing I want is for them to know just what happened, just how their rejection affected me. Court rolls onto his back and hooks an arm under his head, peering up at me with a sort of dopey look on his face, while Piers drags himself into a sitting position next to me.
“I suppose it’s too much to hope you were so entranced at seeing me on the screen that you didn’t hear what she asked me?”
A snort to my right draws my attention to where Thayer is lounging in my chair. “You fainted in the airport as soon as you got home and she wondered what might have caused it.”
“We’re curious too, bubbles. Why did you faint at the airport, on camera, and why the hell didn’t you tell us about it?”
I glance at Grieves, propped next to the door of my bedroom. The way he’s looking at me tells me he knows. They all know. I mean, how could they not when they’re standing in my bedroom thick with my scent? If they didn’t know before they set foot in my home, they sure as fuck know now.
Just like the knowledge that they are my mates settles against my skin with every inhale. Their scents, carried into my lungs with every breath, soak into my veins along with oxygen. Spiced cranberries. Fresh cut grass. The spark of a thunderstorm and oakmoss. Coffee, paper and vetiver. Leather and honey-soaked whiskey.
It’s all so fucking good.
“When did you realize, Pixie? When did you know you’re our mate?”
I swallow and avoid looking at all of them, running a finger along a seam in my quilt. “When I woke up at the hospital and they informed me I had all the symptoms of RMD.”
I flick my gaze up and around the room, reading their expressions. Not a flicker of surprise on any of their faces. My shoulders slump. “When did you realize?”
There’s a long, drawn out pause. And then Grieves pushes off the wall and takes one hesitant step toward me. “I’ve known since the day of the finale. I went to the hotel you were in as soon as they released us from filming. You were already gone, but your scent…”
I nod slowly. “Right.” He would have known from the moment he stepped into that room. Even with the acrid tinge of my heartbreak clinging to my scent, he would have known. “Weeks? You’ve known for weeks? Why didn’tyousay anything?”
His expression cracks and he runs a broad palm over his face. “I hoped…”
“You hoped I would never find out. That I wouldn’t realize what you did to me.”
The devastation in his eyes makes my breath catch. “I did. I never wanted this for you, Ren. I wanted… God, I bloody hoped that you’d be able to get over this, over us.”
I don’t know what to say to that so I stay silent, until I can’t anymore. “And the rest of you? Did you find out from the interview?”
Court shifts closer to me, pressing into my side like that will help soften the blow. “We’ve known for a few days.”
“A few days?” I repeat in a whisper. He nods and smooths my hair back from my face.
Piers shifts uncomfortably. “I suspected for a while longer. I called and Haven picked up. She and Tic said some things that made me think… I wanted to confirm it before I said anything to the pack.”
“In case it was a manipulation?” I say, sarcasm thick in my tone. “A way to get you to come crawling back to me?”
“No. No, of course not. I just… I needed to be sure. I didn’t want to worry them if I was wrong.”
There’s no use fighting against the bitter taste of his words, the swell of hurt and betrayal that accompanies them. Out of all of them I thought Piers would think better of me.
Thayer touches my shoulder to get my attention before he hands me an icy smoothie that I recognize all too well. Tic must have made it for me. He’s obsessed with the damn things. Packs them full of supplements and somehow they’re still delicious.
Condensation beads on the glass, wetting my hand as I take it from him, but I don’t drink it. I’m not sure I can stomach having anything in my belly at the moment.
“How long have I been out?” I ask instead, daring to flick a glance up and around the men gathered around me, then my room. The blackout curtains are drawn so I don’t know what time it is. My phone rests on the bedside table, and I just barely resist the urge to lean over Courtland and grab it.
“Nineteen hours.”
That has my stomach lurching. Nineteen hours is longer than I was out when I first got home.
Piers shuffles next to me before standing up. Thayer slips into the vacated space, his shoulder brushing mine. “Drink the smoothie, please, killer. You need the calories.”
Mechanically, I lift the straw to my lips and suck down the chocolate banana flavored drink. It's delicious, but it takes all of my concentration to actually swallow. Once I manage it, my stomach gives a gurgle of hunger and I suck down half of the smoothie.
The Ashbourne pack is silent as they watch every bob of my throat. Court brushes a kiss to my temple as I pull the glass away from my mouth, then climbs out of the bed too. He returns a moment later with a plate of buttered toast, drizzled with honey and slides it on the mattress next to my knee. “In case you want something more solid.”
