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“You didn’t see my butthole.” Zeke’s flat tone only made it worse.
“But I saw your half-knotted-up dingdong just lying there on your thigh like—holy hell, dude!” She growled, clearly exasperated.
I commandeered one of Zeke’s bathrobes and ran out of the room, head tucked in shame.
“Oh, don’t you dare. You’ll make eye contact with me later and live with it!” Jess huffed, and I buried every bit shame I had as deep down as it would go while Zeke manhandled her out of his apartment.
With any luck, I’d die of embarrassment and never have to see her again…or Zeke would forbid her from ever coming back and we could pretend she didn’t exist.
“Butthole!” I heard screeched somewhere farther away.
Yeah…no such luck.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Zeke
“I need coffee…shit coffee. Like, stale shit from a crusty coffeepot coffee.” I groaned as we shuffled into the library at an unholy hour of morning.
“I offered to take you by the coffee shack.” The trendy little storage shed they’d flung into the closed-down general store parking lot that served coffee-flavored milkshakes and canned energy drinks dumped over ice with a squirt of syrup. Tasty, but not caffeine-flavored punishment in a cup.
“I want cursed coffee.” I shoved on through the library, catching a glimpse of Isa flowing from her book right as I ascended the steps, going up to my apartment with one thought on my mind—dirty burnt bean water.
As I slid into the apartment, it hit me right away the smell was off, something floral under my antique book and old wood scent. Not just floral but like many different floral and fruity things layered in a cacophony of disharmony. I rubbed at my nose, cursing how sensitive my sense of smell had gotten since I’d become an alpha.
I glanced about, not seeing anything immediately off before I rummaged around my kitchen, clattering one shelf as my half-awake fingers fumbled my ancient tin, clanking off the counter and rattling across the wood floor with hollow feedback from the poorly insulated floorboards.
I bent down to pick it up, hand outstretched as my fingers swiped the overhang of cabinet from the footing beneath it. When a swish of air disturbed the hair on the back of my neck, I flinched and collapsed to the floor, full starfish before rolling onto my back with a shriek.
A stranger with a fire poker choked up in her arms stared down at me with wild eyes.
“What the fuck are you doing—” I shrieked as the stranger choked up on the poker and the door to my bedroom rattled until it flew open to reveal a rather disheveled Jess.
“Fuck! Bitty! Back the fuck off, it’s Zeke!” Jess jogged out, snatching the poker from her hands with a flourish and stumble before falling back onto her ass, her nightshirt flying up enough to give me a glimpse of black panties covered in silver howling wolves. She immediately slapped the hem of her shirt down and huffed.
“I didn’t look.” I held my hands up as I sat up, glancing at the strange woman. She was barely five foot, hair a gleaming and sleek black, east Asian if I had to hazard a guess. I wasn’t informed or brave enough to make a guess more specific than that. Dark eyes stared me down without a hint of guilt, only curiosity and a slight squint.
“Shame. These undies are expensive and I don’t get to show them off.” She gave me a quick flash of them with a little flick of her hem and I rolled my eyes. She knew damn well I had zero inclination to look at a woman’s underthings. “Bitty, go get your glasses. Fuck.”
The little woman scampered off and returned a few moments later, blinking at me owlishly from behind a pair of round, thick-rimmed glasses so unfashionable, Mesmer might have fought her for them. “Ah!” Her chirp of a voice brought me no joy. “Lovely to meet you, Zeke!”
She extended a hand that I glared at for a moment before she cleared her throat, smoothed out her rather violently patterned sleep set of pajamas, decorated from pleated collar to hem with characters from some cartoon I didn’t recognize.
Lex’s heavy footsteps pattered up the stairs, his winded breath halting as he glanced at me and Jess on the floor and the awkward newcomer. “I miss a sleepover?”
Bitty, so I was to believe, glanced over at Lex with wide eyes that morphed into bright excitement. “You!” She danced on the balls of her feet and clapped enthusiastically. “I have so many questions.”
“What? Everyone alright? I heard screaming…” Lex held out a hand in confusion as Bitty approached him with a gasp of delight, grabbing his hand not for a handshake but a quick study.
“Seems normal…” She pulled up the sleeve of his shirt and turned his hand over, glasses slipping down her nose. “Muscle mass is slightly underdeveloped.”
Lex’s mouth opened as if he were ready to defend himself, clearly offended, but Bitty was clearly an extra of some variety—archivist or other, I couldn’t tell.
“Hey!” Lex gasped as the girl rucked his shirt up to stare at his belly, hand reaching out to touch but halting as if only then realizing her faux pas.
“Oh. I should ask. May I feel your belly?” I couldn’t see her expression from my angle, but stood, ready to pick the pint-sized chaos-gremlin up and flinched when Lex gave her permission with a miserable gesture—too kind to tell her to fuck off.
“It feels so real. Not that I’ve ever felt a pregnant belly before, but I assume this is what one feels like. Ahhh! A pouch line!” Her shrill voice had only the barest hint of an accent to it, not enough for me to place her. “Fascinating. And this was from a skip and a requisition?”
