Page 10 of Sweet Heat

“I’m up. I’m up,” I call back, hoping he mistakes my rough voice for sleep instead of lust. There’s no damn privacy in this house. Just another reason I need to get out of here.

With quiet resolve, I reluctantly slip from my bed and head toward my ensuite bathroom to get cleaned up. Although I can’t smell myself, I’m still an omega, and I don’t need my scent to give away my secrets.

“Posie! Come on!” Owen shouts, “We’re starving!”

“I’m coming!” My feet stumble on the stairs. I wasn’t aware he was even joining us for breakfast today, and I bite my lip, trying to decide if I should run back to my room quickly for my de-scenting lotion. I rarely use it around the house, but it’s my best armor when we have guests. If I can’t scent them, they shouldn’t be able to scent me. An itch breaks out at the mere thought of slathering it on, and my skin screams at me for a break.

“Let’s go,” Crimson shouts, adding a little Alpha power behind his words. I’m quite sensitive to commands, so my feet rush to obey, and I trip down the last two stairs, pinwheeling my arms in an attempt not to fall flat on my face.

A shrill shriek leaves me, and I struggle to keep up, finally losing the battle and pitching forward. Reaching through the air for the banister as a last-ditch attempt, my hands come up empty, flailing through the air.

My breath gusts out when I smack into a hard wall of muscle, and two strong arms band tightly around me. The touch instantly soothes my nerves, and my head falls against a broad shoulder. A simple save shouldn’t feel this good, but my omega’s riding me hard, needing snuggles more than air.

“Thank you,” I say, lifting my head to see who my savior is. Two shockingly blue eyes stare down at me, and I gasp when he smiles. “Miller…”

Slick soaks my panties instantly, and my pussy throbs with desire. His nose flares, scenting my need, and he frowns, placing me on my feet and stepping back like he’s just been burned.

“I’m so sorry,” I begin, completely mortified, but Miller waves it away and moves toward the dining room.

“I’m used to you being clumsy, Puff,” he jokes, using the hated nickname, and I want to run back upstairs, lock myself in my room and never come out again. “Let’s get some food before Crimson and Damien eat it all.”

Should have gone back upstairs for the scent blockers.

Knowing everyone inside the dining room is waiting for me, I take a deep breath, square my shoulders, and enter. Everyone is already sitting and passing food around. There’s only one seat left open—the one directly across from Miller. Of course.

Hanging my head, I slip onto the hard wooden seat and do my best to avoid eye contact. A croissant is placed gently onto my plate, then some eggs. I look up appreciatively, but a blush burns my cheeks when I realize it’s Miller making me a plate.

“Yo, you okay?” Damien asks, jabbing an elbow into my side. He’s taking his role as pack sibling very seriously lately, but even his antics don’t calm my racing nervous system. Still reeling from my embarrassment, I simply nod my head.

“No. She’s not,” Miller snaps, the silverware clinking in his hand as he stops serving himself. “Crimson’s stupid bark sent her catapulting down the damn stairs. Be more careful with her.”

His tone causes everyone to freeze, and tension seeps into the air. I don’t need to smell it to know everyone is stressed. The silence in the room is deafening.

“It’s all right. I’m not hurt,” I whisper, unable to lift my head with so many eyes trained on me. All my people-pleasing instincts just want everyone to move on.

“My poor baby. Crimson, no more barking in the house,” my mom admonishes him, and he gives me puppy dog eyes in apology.

Embarrassment lodges like a ball in my throat, and tears prickle in my eyes. Slouching, I try to disappear into my chair, wishing the world would swallow me whole. I’m so fucking sick of everyone looking at me like I’m pathetic. A child.

And it’s long past time for that narrative to change.

It’s time to grow up and live your own life. If not now—never.

“I’m moving out,” I blurt, my voice quiet but strong. A fork clatters onto a plate, breaking the spell.

“What did you say? What did she say?” my mother’s shrill voice screams from the other end of the table, and I swallow hard before raising my chin. Channeling my frustration, I roll my shoulders back and project a confidence I don’t feel.

My insides quiver at my parents’ frowning faces, and I want to take it back just to keep them happy, but Owen snickers, and it’s enough to have me pushing forward.

“It’s time for me to move out. I’m a senior in college, practically an adult. I’m moving in with Emma and Mari.” I clasp my shaking hands in my lap, ready for the explosion, and I’m not disappointed.

“Absolutely not,” Papa says, shoving his chair away from the table and standing.

“It’s not safe, Posie,” Dad agrees. “You’re an omega. Do you know what can happen to omegas?”

“Other omegas live on their own,” I point out, standing too. If we’re going to have this out, we might as well make the ground as even as possible.

My brother snorts out a laugh, and my eyes narrow on him. Crossing my arms over my stomach, I stare down the room and dare them to speak up.

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