Page 28 of Dubious Match
“No amount of skeletons in your closet should be enough for you to refuse us,” he says.
I’m vulnerable right now, my body needs a time out, and I’m saying too damn much.
“I promised some very good friends that I’d give you guys a chance,” I rasp. “It just can’t be today. My stomach is a wreck and my vertigo isn’t helping either. I’m seconds from just laying on the floor and taking a nap.”
“Let’s not do that,” Brice says. “If I walked by and saw you on the floor, I’d probably break through the door.”
“You’re all so growly,” I sigh. “I’ll call Caleb to drive me home. Lars is still at the cafe working.”
“Who the fuck are they?” Brice makes another sound, and it feels as if he’s counting in his head.
Squinting, I move to the computer screen to log out of the dark web. An open window is asking for trouble if I’m not payingattention. I haven’t found anything that’ll help Alisa yet either. I’ll come back to this as soon as my head hurts less.
A few key strokes close me out, and then another stabbing pain hits me right at my temple. Shutting my eyes against it, I whine as I struggle to breathe.
“Fuck, ow, shit,” I gasp. “It’s like an ice pick is trying to mush my brains.”
“A time out it is then. Hang tight, Hollis,” Brice murmurs. “Turn off your computer.”
As if by feel and squinting, I power down my computer, and Brice shuts off all the lights. The darkness helps despite the open windows, and I pant from the exertion of trying to survive from minute to minute.
That may sound dramatic if you’ve never had a migraine that takes over your entire identity, and for that you’re lucky.
I hear him moving around before he’s picking me up from the chair.
“There are things I need to take with me,” I say, my head dropping onto his shoulder.
“Okay,” he breathes. “You and I need to talk about who Lars and Caleb are soon, Baby Girl. I’m trying very hard to not be a savage and an asshole.”
“Do you think I’m sleeping with them?” I ask, amused. “They play the part very well when I need to create space between myself and pests.”
“My pack and I aren’t pests,” he says. “However, we behaved very badly. I came over with apology gifts.”
“Sorry to fuck it up,” I say peevishly.
“You’re dying, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “I’m a complete bitch when my pain is a twelve.”
“A goddamned twelve?” he breathes. “Fuck. Okay, I see your bag, binder, phone and laptop. Do you need anything else?”
“No,” I wheeze.
One handed, he packs all of my shit up and pulls the strap of my bag over his shoulder. Walking me to the security pad, he obediently looks away as I input the code and then walks me out the door. He fishes out my keys and relocks it before striding toward his car with me in his arms.
“Do you need to cancel any calls or meetings?” he asks, loading me into the passenger seat.
“Uh-uh,” I rasp.
Brice pulls the seat belt over me before kissing my temple.
“Can I take you home with me? Please?” he asks.
I want to say yes. The omega in me yearns to be taken care of by her alphas, despite how badly our first introduction to each other went. My lips part before I shake my head.
I have a feeling that my migraine isn’t just because I’ve been working like mad and not sleeping much. Alpha pheromones may be pushing me to start spiking. Just because I agreed to see where this goes doesn’t mean that I’m ready to spend a heat with them.
I don’t do one night stands or sex with strangers. That’s why I’m an almost thirty year old virgin. I can flirt with the best of them, but that’s all it is.
