Page 78 of Who We Were

Tilting my nose in the air, I close my eyes, then imagine I'm back home and Nana's making dinner. Creamy Italian sausage and potato soup.My favorite.

My head thunks against the wall outside my nest. "I miss you, Nana," I whisper, allowing a few tears to fall for her. For the woman who raised me and loved me more than my own mother. "I love you."

With a deep sigh, I wipe my tears and try to hold on to a rare moment of clarity during this heat cycle. On shaky legs, I tiptoe out of my room and down the stairs. It feels like the ghost of my nana is here, but it can't be. She's gone, so who's making her soup?

My heart gives an extra thud, then another until it's practically beating out of my chest. Sweat beads in my hands.

Voices, quite a few of them, meet my ears before I see them. My mates, allfourof them bustling around my kitchen like a well-oiled machine. Except for Sam and Oliver, those two still bicker like they used to, I guess.

"The potatoes are done, Oliver," Samuel declares, trying to nudge his brother out of the way of the stove.

Oli pushes back, his brown curls bouncing with the effort. "No they aren't!"

Emmett huffs. "Guys, shut up," he hisses at them.

I stay where I am, knowing they will pick up on my scent soon, but this is the first glimpse I've gotten of them without whatever front they put up for me. And it's the first time I'm seeing Samuel since the disaster of buying this house.

Vincent just watches them, amusement in his gaze as he butters some garlic bread. But as I'm studying him, his attention shifts to me, and where I thought he'd panic at seeing me near the other guys, he just gives me a soft smile. I feel his unspoken question from here, and the support he offers. I know if I shake my head or show any sign of distress, he will follow my lead and make the others leave.

"Oliver, they're going to get mushy," Samuel murmurs close to Oliver, but his tone still bites.

I want to roll my eyes like I used to when he would get bossy, but I resist the urge and clasp my hands in front of me nervously.

Oli just continues to watch the boiling pot with concentration. "This is how Nana did it. She would set the timer to the correct amount, but wait another minute and a half."

Butterflies explode in my tummy, and maybe a little slick dampens my panties, but I ignore that part.

'Beta!'

My omega's excitement makes me smile since I share her feelings.I can't believe he remembered that detail.

Samuel looks thoughtful for a moment, then he nods. "Oh yeah! She did that with the spinach too, right? Except she gave the spinach an extra two minutes to wilt."

Emmett nods and a soft smile graces his plump lips like he's reminiscing. "God, I miss her," he says sadly, even while enjoying the memory.

'Alphas?'

Wrapping my instinctual side in a metaphorical hug, I take a step forward and make myself known. "Me too."

Everything stops. If I didn't know any better, I would assume I had the ability to stop time, but the boiling water evaporates that dream.

The three of them stand there staring dumbly at me likeI'mthe one that's a surprise. It'smykitchen they've made themselves at home in. And that'smynana's recipe they are ten seconds late on pulling potatoes for.

Vincent snorts, surprising me with how nonchalant he's being about all of this. "It's been a minute and forty seconds, Oliver."

"What?" the beta says, confused.

I gesture to the pot, making my way to the opposite side of the island from them. "The potatoes. They are now overcooked."

"Oh fuck!" Oli gasps and cranks the dial to simmer for the spinach to be put in. "I can't believe I messed it up. I'm so sorry, Amaya!"

I shrug. "That's alright. Nana used to get lost in her dancing and overcook them half the time, anyway."

"Oh my god." Emmett pales and shakes his head. "Please don't ever remind me of your nana's dancing ever again."

A giggle falls from my lips at the memory of Nana twerking around our small kitchen. The sound of my soft laughter causes silence to descend once again, making me uncomfortable.

I turn my pleading eyes on Vincent to make this less weird before the whine that's building in my throat slips free. Suddenly, the room feels too large and my breaths aren't deep enough.

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