I yank the dandelion. It comes up all at once with a clump of gravel and I almost overbalance backward.
"It's a phase, Mom. Isn’t that what all parents freak out about? Phases. Don’t worry, I’ll grow out of it." I internally cringe at how much I just said, but I can’t help it. All I can think about is Atlas’ tongue on my asshole as I tried desperately to keep it together that night.
"You're flushed."
"I'm in the sun."
"Mm."
She isn't pushing. ThankGodshe doesn’t push any further. But I have a sinking feeling she will bring it up again and I will, eventually, have to lie better.
I yank another weed. Try not to think about the fact that I currently smell like dirt and sweat and the specific way I smelltwo days after a man fucks me for hours and hours. Maybe it’s an omega thing.
Or maybe I’m just slutty.
The bond between my sternum and three different threads is going hot and bright every time I shift, which is, apparently, what happens when you walk around the garden carrying the residual feeling of your alpha still inside you. I wonder if the other two can smell it on me too.
The back patio door slides open behind me.
"Maxie. You've got a smudge on your face."
Zero.
Jesus it’s like I summoned him.
Bare feet. Glass of something cold in his hand. The familiar warm-bright pulse of him in the bond going visible like someone turned up a dial.
"It's dirt."
"I know what it is. I'm informing you."
"Informed."
I sit back on my heels and look up at him. He's leaning against the doorframe in track pants and one of Bane's t-shirts—a thing he does about once a week without comment, because Zero will steal anything not nailed down and pretend he didn't notice—and he is, very obviously, freshly out of the shower. Wet hair. The smell of his soap reaching me even across six feet of patio.
Bane appears behind him. Tall. Glasses–the ones he never wears around the house that make him look like a sexy professor. Coffee mug. Already dressed for the day like he’s ready for a meeting.
"Morning, Margot."
"Morning, darling."
"Maxie, you look gorgeous."
I shoot him ashut the fuck uplook, eyes wide. He has got to be kidding me. "I'm filthy, Bane."
"I noticed. Suits you."
Zero snorts into his glass.
Margot is, by some miracle, oblivious. She straightens. Asks if either of them wants coffee. Gets told by Bane that he's already on his second and by Zero that he's having juice today,thank you, and goes back to her peonies.
Bane drops into one of the patio chairs and stretches his legs out. Zero crouches down next to me on the gravel, picks up a weed I'd missed, and tucks it into the small pile by my knee.
"Pretty," he says, soft, only to me. "You look pretty when you're working."
"Zero."
"Sweaty. Dirty.Fuck, baby, you smell like—"
