Adrian hits play. The studio logo blooms across the screen, and a moment later the lights drop.
I pull the blanket across my lap and let myself sink into the cushions, my gaze keeps moving between the screen and the alphas surrounding me.
The movie starts with a car chase—something bright, fast, and deliberately over-the-top. I should be letting it pull me out of my own head. Should be taking advantage of the distraction, of the chance to step outside of my body’s changes for a few hours.
But I can’t. Not completely. My body keeps pulling me back—to the easy comfort of being with them and the unfamiliar feeling of being wanted without conditions attached.
And maybe that’s the part that’s most surprising. Not just that my body’s reacting to compatible alphas or that my omega wants their attention, or even that I’m starting to accept the pull between us. It’s that I like being with them. I like the way Adrian’s eyes always find mine across a room, how Bash teases without crossing lines, and the grounding presence Elias brings into every room.
I like being seen, just as I am.
Time passes quickly. The movie moves from the chase scene to a setup to the first real joke, something about mistaken identity that shouldn’t be as funny as it is. Adrian laughs first, the sound rich with amusement. Bash follows a beat later, leaning slightly toward the sound until his shoulder brushes mine.
“You’ve seen this before,” I accuse softly. Bash nods, his attention still half on the screen. “Three times,” he admits, something almost embarrassed in his tone. “It’s stupid, but—“
“It’s not stupid,” Adrian interrupts. “It’s sweet. In a very specific, very Bash way.”
Bash’s expression changes for half a second, something almost sheepish flickering across his face. “It’s not sweet,” he mutters. “It’s just... you know. Good. For when your brain needs a break.”
Something about the moment stays with me in a way I don't expect. The easy conversation continues around me, flowing from one topic to the next without effort. And somewhere along the way, I realize I've stopped feeling like I'm visiting. I've stopped feeling like I'm waiting for someone to notice I don't belong here.
Twenty minutes in, my throat feels dry, and I reach for the water bottle on the side table. Adrian beats me to it, his hand closes around the bottle a beat before mine. “Here,” he says as he passes it over. “Thought you might need this.” Our fingers brush as I take it. Brief and accidental. The kind of contact that shouldn’t register at all, but it sends a jolt through me. My omega preens at the touch and the fact that he noticed what I needed before I said a word.
“Thanks,” I say softly. He nods once in response, then his attention shifts to whatever’s happening on screen.
But my attention keeps drifting back to him—the rhythm of his breathing, the way his body stays subtly turned toward mine, and the constant awareness I have of his movements. The blanket slips from my lap as I shift slightly, landing in a soft heap between us. I start to reach for it, but Bash is already moving from my other side, grabbing it before I can. “Here,” he says softly as he pulls it back over my lap, smoothing the fabric across my legs. His touch lingers for half a second longer than needed before his eyes lift to mine.
“Better?” he asks.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. The simple gesture feels dangerously intimate.
About thirty minutes into the movie, a ridiculous on-screen misunderstanding draws a round of laughter from the room. Adrian chuckles first, the sound easy and genuine. Elias follows with a laugh beside us, and then Bash’s shoulder shakes lightly against mine as he laughs too. A second later, I’m laughing with them, the sound escaping before I can soften it. Bash turns toward me immediately, his expression softening as his eyes find mine. The look in his eyes gentle enough to make heat crawl up my neck.
“You have a good laugh,” he says warmly. “Real. Not the kind people do when they’re trying to be polite.” On the other side of Bash, Elias smiles faintly, his expression carrying the same agreement.
Contentment unfurls in my chest. “Thanks,” I say softly, my tone giving away more than I intend. “I think.”
Bash smiles, the expression reaching his eyes in a way that makes my stomach flip unexpectedly. “Definitely a compliment,” he says easily. “Real laughs are rare, especially in our world. That’s what makes them matter.” The sincerity behind his words catches me off guard.
Adrian nods in agreement from my other side, his attention focused entirely on my face. “He’s right,” he says, the conviction in his voice unmistakable. “Your laugh is one of the things Bash, and I noticed first about you.”
Happiness blooms in my chest at the words, not because of the compliment itself, but because they noticed it before anyof this happened. They noticed me before my presentation and before my omega instincts started changing everything between us, back when I was still just Maya managing schedules and keeping productions running in the background. Somehow, that realization affects me far more than it should.
“Wha…” I start, then stop, not sure how to finish the sentence. Asking why they noticed me feels ridiculous somehow.
But neither of them pushes for my unfinished question. They just let the moment exist before the movie pulls all of our attention back to the screen.
The movie continues and hits the first real emotional beat—a moment between the main character and his father, something about expectations and belonging that lands closer to home than it should. Normally, I’d be dissecting the scene automatically, noticing the camera work or the pacing or the choices behind the performances. Right now, I barely notice any of it.
My focus keeps drifting back to Bash instead—to his presence beside me, the sound of his laughter, and the way his gaze finds mine every so often before returning to the screen. And then I’m leaning into his side with none of the hesitation or overthinking that’s followed me for days. Just shifting closer until my shoulder settles against his, casual enough that it almost feels normal. Bash pauses beside me for half a heartbeat, his surprise subtle but impossible to miss at the sudden closeness. Then, slowly, his arm lifts to rest along the back of the couch behind me, immediately making space for me.
“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice low enough that only I can hear it.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Heat crawls up my neck at how quickly he adjusted, making room for me without hesitation, without questions, like it was the most natural thing in the world. He slides his arm around my shoulders, the hold loose enough that I could pull away without effort. But I don’t. Instead, I let myself sink deeper into the contact, my omega responding with immediate, bone-deep relief. It should feel significant, like crossing some invisible line between us. Instead, it feels right, like my body has finally settled into one of the places it’s been searching for since this all started.
Like I’m finally letting myself have what Maya—the person, not the omega—has wanted all along. Adrian extends one hand toward me, the silent offer making my pulse stumble. He isn’t trying to guide or pressure me into anything. He’s simply letting me choose how much closer I’m willing to become. I reach for him instinctively, my body moving before my thoughts can catch up. Our fingers brush as I take his hand, and the contact sends a jolt through me that feels nothing like fear.
Adrian’s hand closes around mine, his grip gentle enough that I could pull away without effort. Instead, I let my fingers thread through his, contentment unfurling through my chest. His thumb brushes across my knuckles once, a brief, gesture that makes my awareness of him increase.
