Page 77 of Who We Were

"But don't you live here too?" I ask, even though it's probably none of my business.

His lips twist as he reaches for a carton of milk to put away. "I don't know. Istayhere, but we haven't actually discussed me living with her."

I hand him a bottle of orange juice while thinking through what he's shared. I want to know more, like what their dynamic really is, but I think I would be crossing a boundary.

With the final item tucked into the pantry, Vincent leans against the counter with his arms crossed. "What's the plan here, Oliver?"

Fair question.

"The plan is to help you, help her. We aren't so bad that we would assume we would be allowed anywhere near Amaya, but let us be your shadows, please."

His eyes narrow. "And what does that mean?"

I wave my arms around. "You'll need help to keep both of you fed andalivewithout neglecting her other needs. Plus, it will make you feel more secure to have us watching the house. Keeping you both safe."

"What makes you think I trust you, and the other two, enough to be in my omega's space during this vulnerable time?"

I square my shoulders. "You trust us because we'll do anything for Amaya and because youknowwe love her. We hurt our omega. Yes, we are terrible mates, but you also know we didn't do anything intentionally."

"Except Samuel."

I hate it, but I nod. "Let us show you we can be better."

Vincent shrugs. "It's not up to me. If she doesn't want you here, you won't be. So what's your plan to convince her to let you stay?"

I grin. "Dinner."

50

AMAYA

Green of all shades gives my nest a perfect soothing, comforting vibe. Blankets, body pillows, sheets, and comforters. They're beautiful even if my omega craves their green colors because of the color of her mates’ eyes.

Oliver and Samuel, even if they never step foot in my nest, they are here in the softest, most comforting forms.

Gold sparkles in a few accent pillows and knickknacks I decorated a few of my tall shelves with. I even found a shimmery gold silk robe that's hanging on one of the hooks by the door.

Emmett. He's here in the sprinkles of gold his brown eyes twinkle with. There's happiness, an extra layer of the life I loved in those pretty accents.

What surprised me the most was the gorgeous blue beaded canopy Vincent helped me hang on the back wall when he came up with a snack. The canopy made me feel like my alpha was watching over me and my safe space.

God, I couldn't stop perfuming once I allowed him inside. Seeing my big, tattooed alpha dominating the space of my new nest was the sexiest thing I've ever seen.

His bright blue eyes absolutelysmolderedwhen he took in the large sunken mattress. Thankfully, I had everything exactly where I wanted it, with the blankets tucked and twirled around the edges with all my soft pillows resting against them.

Rolling my new fluffy throw blanket, I set it with the other two. My fingers sink into them as I stare at the box of twinkly lights that still need to go up.

I don't know how long I've been sitting here rolling and re-rolling my blankets under the comfort of my sheet, but I have never felt so at peace. There are still a few things that are making me a little twitchy, like the fact that Vincent's scent is fading from his quick pop in, and that the lighting is all wrong.

I'm trying to ignore the incessant poutiness making my eyes burn with tears when I remember the absence of my other mates. My nest is a constant reminder of what could have been, but any other color scheme I tried wasn't right.

There are boxes of purples and pinks, blacks and silvers, even bright yellows and soft oranges lining the hallway outside of my bedroom. I tried to make my nest with them, but it didn't feel likehome.

I intentionally ignored the bag that smells of my mates. I may need a reminder of them in my nest, but physically smelling them is a step too far.Theyfeel like home, and this is the closest I'll ever be to that feeling ever again. Even if it hurts me, iftheyhurt me, I need them in some capacity, I guess.

Instincts are a bitch.

I'm glaring daggers at the lights that apparently aren't self-hanging when a familiar scent invades the open door of my nest. Jumping to my feet, I stumble across the mattress, careful not to ruin my hard work and slam the door closed behind me.

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