Page 32 of Rescue Me

“Nope,” he says cheerfully, popping the ‘p’ like it’s a challenge. “I’m like this all the time. Zana says it’s one of my best qualities.”

Zana hums noncommittally and I snort. “Sure it is,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Right up there with your ability to talk without breathing.”

Ethan sticks his tongue out again and I almost smile. Almost. But the ache in my ribs and the weight pressing down on my chest remind me why I’m here and the fleeting moment of freedom slips away.

“You’re both lucky I can’t get up,” I tease, “Otherwise, I’d be finding somewhere quiet to die.”

“You’re not dying,” Zana growls, her voice cutting through my self-pity like a knife. “There will be no dying.” Something in her voice makes me want to fight. Makes me want to stand up to the Alphas that have ruined my life. Makes me want to tell Hailey what I truly think about her and her demands. They’ll kill me for what I truly want to say to them and yet, it’s now one of my only priorities. Well, that and figuring out how to tell my mind that I can open my heart to these two.

I’ve been guarding myself for so long that I don’t know how to let go.

Zana retreats to the kitchen as Ethan slides to sit on the edge of the couch, practically vibrating with that endless energy of his. His knee bounces like it’s got a mind of its own and he keeps fiddling with the edge of his sweater, glancing at me like he’s trying to hold himself back. I don’t know if it’s for my benefit or his, but it’s almost cute.

“You don’t have to hover, you know,” I say, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not going to keel over on you.”

He huffs, folding his arms, but he doesn’t move from his spot. “I’m just... making sure you’re okay.” I’ve never been around Omegas other than Hailey so I don’t know what to do with that sentiment.

I snort, shifting on the couch to sit up straighter. I wince and then hold up my hand before Ethan starts freaking out. “I’m fine, Ethan. Well, as fine as a guy can be after being dragged out of hell, patched up, and force-fed broth.”

“Zana’s just protective,” Ethan says, a small smile tugging at his lips. “And you could’ve just eaten the broth, you know. Would’ve saved us all the whining.”

“Whining?” I feign offense, my hand pressing against my chest like he’s insulted my honor. “That wasn’t whining. That was constructive criticism. The broth you tried to feed me was fine but did it need to have so much salt?”

Ethan laughs, a warm sound that makes me forget about the dull ache in my ribs and the weight in my chest. “Zana always said I couldn’t cook. I try but it never comes out right.” He huffs, his nose scrunching up in a way I can only think of as adorable. But then he shifts closer, and the air between us changes. His laughter fades, his brown eyes locking on mine and it’s like the whole room tilts sideways.

He leans in, slow, giving me time to move away, to stop him. But I don’t. I can’t. His scent—bright and sweet like summer—wraps around me and I forget how to breathe. Ethan is dangerous and even if they keep saying that I’ll never go back, bringing another Omega’s scent into Hailey’s house would be the worst offense.

And still, I don’t stop Ethan.

Because I don’t want to.

His lips press against mine, hesitant, everything else falling away. The pain, the bruises, the contract hanging over my head—it all disappears. It’s just him and me and the way his hands tremble slightly as they rest on my shoulders.

The kiss deepens, his lips parting against mine, my tongue moving to dance with his. It’s overwhelming, intoxicating, and so goddamn good that I nearly forget why this is a bad idea. I pull back, breaking the kiss with a gasp. “Ethan,” I mumble, my voice low and strained. “We should stop.”

His brows knit together, confusion flickering in his eyes, his scent dimming. “Why?”

“Because if we don’t, I’m not going to want to,” I admit, leaning back against the couch. My heart’s racing, my chest tight with something I don’t have a name for. “And as much as I’d love to throw caution to the wind and make terrible decisions, there’s a little thing called red tape tying me up.”

“Red tape?” he echoes, tilting his head.

I sigh, scrubbing a hand down my face. “Yeah. You know, the whole ‘contracted to someone else’s pack’ thing? Makes this”—I gesture between us—“complicated.”

He frowns, his fingers twisting the hem of his sweater again. “Do you... do you want me?”

The question is so earnest, so painfully sincere, that I can’t help but laugh. It’s not a mean laugh—more like the kind you let out when you’re so overwhelmed you don’t know what else to do. “Ethan, that’s not the problem. Of course, I want you. Hell, you’re the first thing I’ve wanted in years that didn’t come with a price tag or a pile of bullshit attached.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

I sigh again, slumping against the cushions. “The problem is that Jackson and Lyle don’t let go of things they think belong to them. And while I’d love to tell them to shove it and live happily ever after with you and Zana, it’s not that simple.” Ethan opens his mouth to argue, but I hold up a hand. “Let’s not get into the legal nightmare that is my life right now. Talk to me instead. Distract me from the fact that I just kissed the sweetest, most frustrating Omega I’ve ever met.”

He perks up at that, his eyes shining with a mix of pride and mischief. “You think I’m sweet?”

I roll my eyes, a small smirk tugging at my lips. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

He grins, and just like that, the tension eases. He starts talking, rambling about something ridiculous—his favorite pastries, a show he’s been binge-watching, some wild idea for a new nest he wants to build. His words come out in a rush, his hands gesturing wildly and I find myself smiling despite everything.

“You know,” I interrupt, raising an eyebrow, “you might actually be more annoying than Jackson and Lyle combined. But somehow, it works for you.”

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