My head tilts.
I’m in jeans and a short sleeve T-shirt, and I’m comfortable. Not too hot or too cold. There goes that anxiety again. It slams into my stomach as I bend to get my boots off.
Moretti said she was burning up last night. Magnum said something similar about two nights ago, and I saw it for myself the first evening she spent here.
Why is she having an opposite reaction during the day? It has to be related to her suppressants, right?
Nothing else makes sense.
It must be that her system is struggling to regulate itself now that she’s off the suppressants. Luckily, I’m a furnace in human form. I’ll be able to warm her up without much trouble, but I’ll need to keep an eye out for other symptoms.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Vanessa
Hawk climbs onto the bed, and the mattress shakes. It’s a little unreal how big he is, but I love it. He makes me feel dainty, which isn’t easily accomplished. He points a remote at the footboard of the bed, and a damn television panel pops up.
“No way,” I say, blinking. “Why didn’t you teach me how to use that?”
He chuckles, stretching out his arm. “I forgot about it. Sorry. I’m an awful tour guide.”
I scoot over and get situated. He’s thick, meaning I have to stretch to easily rest my cheek on top of him, but turning more into him makes it work, plus I kinda hold myself up with my arm under my side.
I’d rather snuggle with him than a pillow, even if this is a bit more work. If I were feeling extra cheeky, I’d roll right on top of him.
“What are we going to watch?” I ask, checking out the TV.
My arm and my boob make it impossible to see the bottom half of the screen, but I’m fine with that. What I really want is the chance to soak up his campfire scent and get to know him.
“I’m not picky. I like everything. How about you?” he asks. “Have you got a preference?”
“No history or documentaries, but I’m down for anything else,” I tell him, fighting the urge to ask how he feels about chick-flicks. Laughing, I blurt out the question.
“You mean rom-coms?” he asks. “I’ll watch whatever makes you happy.”
My heart thunders.
Hawk is going to make a great husband someday. I just need to figure out how to make him want to be withme.
I enjoy an incredible nap where I miss ninety percent of the romantic comedy that I picked. He’s a good sport about it, even though there’s definitely a puddle of drool on his shirt.
“I’m hungry. You up for some lunch?” he asks, running his hand over my hip.
I’d kind of like to lounge in bed all day, but omegas are meant to stockpile calories in the days and weeks before a heat.
My stomach is feeling better, so I nod. “Yeah, I could eat.”
Hawk climbs off the bed and holds his arms out.
I blink, trying to figure out what’s happening.
“Want me to carry you?” he asks. “You just woke up.”
I toss back the blanket, crawling to the edge embarrassingly fast.
Hawk scoops me up, chuckling. “You’re cute as hell.”
I wrap my legs around his back, nuzzling my face to his chest. He’s so warm, and he smells delicious. It was also really nice of him to keep me company so I wouldn’t stress about why Moretti disappeared for an entire day without a word.
