Page 152 of Forget

“She’s nesting,” Miss Evelyn says with a shrug, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Does that mean she’s going into heat right now?” I ask, panicked.

Miss Evelyn and Mr. Cecil smirk at each other as they shake their heads. Morgan doesn’t talk about this, so I’m clueless. While I did a little online research, I found out that every omega is different during their nesting and heat cycles, and that it’s not exact science.

I raised my middle finger at the phone at the time, and Caelin caught me. The asshole laughed his ass off at me, while I blushed furiously.

“Not necessarily,” Mr. Cecil says, putting me out of my misery.

His attention is pulled away for a moment as he gets a call, and it’s quickly clear it’s the boss.

“Hello, Son,” Mr. Cecil murmurs. “Yes, I heard Aisling is nesting and bossing those boys around. I hope she doesn’t have a knife, or they’ll all be sporting new scars.”

Aiden still has her knife, but only because she hasn’t asked for it back. I can see signs of depression in how withdrawn she’s been recently. There’s no bubbly energy, Aisling simply looks exhausted, and she’s no longer hiding it.

I think that scares me the most about all of this.

She’s doesn’t fucking care what we think, so we’re not worth hiding her sadness from. On the one hand, it gives me the ability to try to reach her where she’s at, but what happens when she doesn’t want to be helped?

Yep, I’m most definitely spiraling.

“Yes,” Mr. Cecil says, causing me to turn around in the driver’s seat to face him. I really want to know what he just agreed to.I wish he was on speaker phone, but he doesn’t believe in it. Conversations should be private.“I’ll let him know and send him home.”

Hanging up, he gazes at me as I raise my brow. I’m fucking dying, and I don’t care that I’m being dramatic.

“Cian said he would take us home,” he says. “In fact, he cleared his schedule and is on the way here now to have lunch with us. Isn’t that nice?”

“Argh, yes, it is. Are you sure?” I ask, my brain having a hard time processing this.

Cian never clears his schedule unless something is happening with Aisling. He’s very stringent with his meetings and calendar, to the point where he’ll follow through even when he’s sick.

“Completely sure,” Mr. Cecil says. “Go home, Evan. Be available to Aisling in case she needs you. There’s power in being a beta, in that you’re not as complicated as alphas are. She may be more inclined to reach out to you.”

Miss Evelyn nods, her eyes sad as she remembers her pack. “Robert was always our peacemaker, Evan. He managed to find a way to get everyone to come together,” she says.

“It was typically while waving around a fireplace poker or knife, but it always did the trick,” Mr. Cecil says, smothering a chuckle.

It’s funny how time manages to smooth out the rough lines of a story, until all you see is the good. Maybe that’ll eventually happen for us too, and Aisling will tell our kids about how wonderful we are.

Fuck, I really want to see her pregnant. Now, I need to get these two out of my car without flashing my erection.

“Then I guess I’ll leave you in good hands,” I say, willing my cock to go down as I open the door.

“Mom!” Jodi calls out, bustling out of the house with Patrick. Thank fuck. I’m saved.

The two of them help Mr. Cecil and Miss Evelyn get out of the car, and I begin the drive back to their house to pick up my truck. Hopefully, I’ll catch Aiden so I can drive him home. Otherwise, I don’t know how he’s planning to get back.

Blowing out a breath, I tell myself that I don’t need to know all of the moving pieces in order for them to work. Cian is a smart man, it’ll get worked out.

Aisling

Starfishing out on the mattress, I rub my hands over the soft fabric of my new sheets. Twenty minutes ago, I decided I hated the previous sheets and hunted down a hunter green set. Now my colors are gray, green, and maroon. The curtains are a calm gray as well now, and easier to change out than I thought they’d be.

The colors are decidedly masculine, which is surprising for me, but they match the clothing I stole, and that’s what matters the most to me. I don’t care if no one else understands, these colors feel right, helping to soothe my chaotic mind.

Every time I see navy blue, I snarl, so that’s unfortunately not a color that can be in my nest anymore. I thought maybe it was a fluke, but it’s not. My body feels less anxious around these colors too.

I don’t care if it could be a figment of my imagination.

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