Page 59 of In Too Deep

The house is objectively one of the prettiest I’ve ever been in, despite the distinct lack of analog clocks anywhere under the roof. Their living room has the distinctive tall ceilings typical in New Orleans homes, with slow-moving ceiling fans to circulate the warm air back down. There’s a massive television to the left, with a sectional and a few chairs positioned in front of it with a oversized padded ottoman in the center of the formation. Tall windows line the front and right side walls, with a staircase leading upstairs in the back corner of the room. A large open gap supported by dark wood columns and a matching spandrel leads to the kitchen and dining area.

I let out a sigh, my shoulders relaxing as I inhale the combined scents of my alphas. Spearmint, ozone, cranberries, bergamot, and spices float around me, ingrained into just about every object in the house. I deposit my shoes near a small mountain of their kin beside the door before allowing Oli to take my bag over to the couch. Following behind, I curl up in the bend of the sectional, my favorite spot. Oli sits close, one arm stretched out over the back as he twists to face me more directly. There’s a somber look in his eyes, and my stomach drops.

“You got the call, too?” I ask softly.

Oli nods, not needing any clarification. “Carolina has a good chance of taking their entire conference,” he says.

My jaw drops, surprised and hurt in equal measure. “You’re not seriously considering taking the offer?” I snap.

Oliver sits up, alarmed by my tone. “Of course not! It’s just—”

He stops himself as he realizes that I’m barely containing the wobble in my lower lip, the backs of my eyes burning again. My heart aches. I want to turn away so he can’t see how much his words affect me, but he’s got me pinned under his amber gaze. I can’t even move as he crawls his way across the short distance between us, and my legs fall open instinctually to give him space to loom over me. I exhale shakily as he takes my face in his hands.

“The commissioner could call me right this instant and give me a billion-dollar contract on the best team in the league with a guarantee I would win the Stanley Cup, and I would tell him to shove it up his lard ass. I don’t want to be anywhere else except by your side, princess.”

That half-whispered declaration makes my skin break out in goosebumps, and a shiver slides down my spine. His scent is everywhere, warm and comforting and safe. And when he leans in and kisses me, it’s like a fresh cup of Earl Gray sliding down my throat to soothe the jagged edges of my heart. The longer the kiss goes on, the harder it is to remember why I was worried in the first place. Of course, he wouldn’t leave me. He’s my alpha, the prime alpha I chose to lead my pack.

Oli pulls away and rests his forehead against mine, purring under his breath for me. I reach up and clasp my hands around the back of his neck, letting my eyes close and enjoying the intimacy.

“If you still don’t believe me when I say I’m not leaving, I have something for you that might change your mind,” Oli says, his raspberry breath caressing my cheeks.

I peek up at him through my lashes, curiosity ballooning in my belly. He’s smirking down at me with mischief sparking like embers in his eyes.

“Well, I don’t know. I’m still not sure you’re not going to up and leave...” I trail off, the disappointment in my voice completely fake even to my ears.

Oliver chuckles, a low rumble that makes my core pulse. His hands drop to my waist and, with surprising ease, he pulls us both up to our feet from the couch. Grabbing my hand, he starts to lead me up the stairs, but not before I snatch the strap of my bag. I have no real idea about what’s going to happen, but if my guess is correct, I’m going to want the treat I brought with me for just such an occasion.

My bare toes sink into the thick carpet on the steps and the hallway at the top as I step beside Oli. After spending a few nights, I know that three of them are bedrooms, and one is Spencer’s bathroom. I’ve spent most nights in bed with Oli and Eli in the primary bedroom, but the door Oli’s pulling me toward isn’t that. Instead, it’s the guest room I tried to sleep in during the hurricane. My brow knits downward, curiosity morphing into confusion.

He turns to me with a softer smile and an almost hesitant slant to his eyes as he pauses with one hand on the handle.

“I’ve been working on this for a while, and I think you’ll like it. But if you want to change anything, we can absolutely do that.”

I nod, completely flummoxed. A million different things could be behind that door, too many options for my mind to parse out, before Oli twists the handle and pushes the door open for me.

Right away, I notice that the color of the walls has changed. The last time I was in this room, it was a modern mix of whitesand greiges, the walls lime washed with stark white crown molding. But now the walls are a dark blue, the molding painted to match the gold stars speckled over the tall expanses. I take a tentative step forward, edging around Oli to look at the rest of the room.

My eyes go wide, and I drop my bag as my hands come up to cover my gaping mouth. The room has been completely transformed from the bare-bones guest space it had been less than three months ago. The queen bed has been replaced by a massive platform bed, at least twelve feet wide, judging by the way it takes up all the space between the walls. It’s not quite square in its proportions, leaving plenty of space between the end of the bed and door leading to the private bathroom. On the wall opposite the bed is a small wet bar, complete with a not-quite-mini fridge with a freezer, a microwave, and a coffee machine. A large television is mounted on the wall above the setup, tilted down slightly.

More details come into focus as I step fully into the room, spinning slowly in place to see everything. A sliding pocket door leading to a walk-in closet tucked next to the wet bar. The built-in shelves framing the bed, almost creating a half-enclosed alcove. Thick velvet curtains blocking any light coming in from the tall, narrow windows. The soft canopy and string lights draped just so over the bed, effectively lowering the ceiling.

My instincts recognize this space for what it is almost instantly. A nest. Oliver has built me a nest.

“I took cues from your house for the design choices. A sort of eclectic, galaxy, cottage core, rustic mix. Spencer said we had to keep the ceiling fan, or we’d roast in here during the summer. I would have preferred something smaller, like recessed lights, butc’est la vie.”

I look toward his voice to find him leaning sideways against the doorframe, his hands deep in his pockets, his head tiltedback slightly. Following his gaze, my eyes rise, and I gasp in astonishment again. A mural stretches across the entire ceiling, a detailed illusion of a glass ceiling covered in vines and flowers looking up into the night sky, the Milky Way streaking diagonally across it. The ceiling fan hangs from the center of the room, cleverly disguised with fake plants and dark paint to make it blend into the image.

“It’s perfect,” I breathe out, my voice cracking.

“We have some blankets and pillows here, but if you want to start moving your things in, we can do that as early as tomorrow.” Oli continues, almost like he didn’t hear me.

I swallow and close my eyes. My heart is so full that it’s hard to form words, but it’s about time we have this conversation.

“I don’t have anything,” I say, a little louder this time.

Opening my eyes and turning to face Oli, I find him standing straight up, brow furrowed in concern.

“What...don’t have any...”

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