Page 52 of Broken Dreams

“I’ll brush my teeth last,” Linus says, his hands moving me to stand in front of the sinks. “Go ahead, and I’ll tackle your hair.”

Working together, I begin to brush my teeth as he starts on my hair. It’s not as odd as you’d think when you’re used to having limited bathroom time.

“Alright, so you grew up with these guys, and they were your best friends,” he begins, ticking off what he knows. I blink to agree, since my head is being held hostage at the moment. “I’m going to take this to also mean that they’re good people. I spent roughly three and a half days with them. They were so focused on you and what you needed, and when you seemed uncomfortable, pulled me in. I was only in the room because Bret is a douchebag who was two seconds away from being punched.”

His words make me almost choke on my toothpaste, a clear sign that I need to finish up before I inadvertently kill myself.

As Linus continues to detangle my long hair, I do just that.

“It feels weird though, like we just survived something no one else understands,” he murmurs as I rinse my mouth. “I don’t even know where to start to move away from it.”

Pulling my hair forward, I glower at it. There’s so fucking much of it. I haven’t been able to make a single decision regarding my appearance for so goddamned long, I find myself wanting to.

“Well, nevermind then. It appears you do,” he says. “Do I need some scissors and a video tutorial, Makayla?”

“Really?” I ask, forcing the word out.

“If I fuck it up, we’ll figure it out, but I think I can manage it,” Linus says with a shrug. The amount of confidence he exudes about something he knows I need is sexy as fuck.

Turning, I tackle him in a hug, enjoying his slight grunt. Moving away, I allow him the space he’ll need to brush his teeth, thinking about what I want to say to the men downstairs.

Opening the door once Linus is done, I’m surprised to see Duncan now waiting in the hallway.

“Find everything you need?” he asks.

“Yes,” Linus answers as I nod, still playing with the ends of my hair. “Ah, we’re going to need some cutting shears soon for Makayla.”

Duncan’s gaze moves to the ends of my hair that I’m fussing over, and nods.

“We have the computer open with things to add to the online cart. Show me which ones will be best for what you need. Fuck it, I’ll open a browser and do some research if you’re not sure. Let’s go eat before it gets cold, yeah?” he says abruptly, moving in the direction he wants us to follow in.

Damn, he’s a force of nature.His ass in his jeans is also fucking edible. You’d think my sex drive would be dead after my heat, but funny enough, it’s not. I’m not planning on jumping into the sack with either of them though.

I can be an adult about this. Mmhmm. Damn.

“You’re thinking about his ass, aren’t you?” Linus’ sinful voice asks in barely a whisper.

Biting back a moan, I nod as I begin to walk down the stairs. I’m frightfully transparent right now.

My mind moves back to my heat, and I decide I’m not upset about it. I’ve had to release any romantic feelings that I may have ever had about sex. It’s just something I do regularly, like brushing my teeth or washing my ass.

It’s part of my everyday life.

How can I possibly be upset that five decent alphas took care of me through my heat? Two of which were there to plan our escape? I can’t, and I won’t waste any more time thinking about it or allowing Duncan or Callum to feel guilty about it.

I’m a realist at heart, it’s what’s kept me alive this long.

I’ve been in my head so long, I have to shake myself as I walk into the kitchen. It’s beautiful, and most importantly, feels lived in. The pots are hung above the island, there are chairs surrounding it so everyone can see each other.

They’ve made a home here.

Callum places plates of food on the table, and I see that it’s linguini and meat sauce. God, that used to be my favorite. My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven’t had a proper meal in God knows how long. There’s also a pad of paper and a pencil in the middle of the table and an open laptop.

They’ve thought of everything.

Sitting on a chair, I reach for the pad of paper and write simple words of gratitude.

Thank you. For everything.

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