Page 121 of Altius

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***

Hooking a leg over the solid reassurance of Wyatt’s calf as we cuddled in my nest, I shifted closer and sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Wyatt murmured into my hair as he stroked my back. “Worried they’ve told the rest of your family by now?”

“They probably have, but I don’t mind. Mostly still stunned. About us. And Kelsey. Can’t believe she pulled a stunt like that in front of you.”

“Baby,” Wyatt said with an indulgent chuckle, “don’t take this the wrong way, but don’t you think she’s been exceptionally accommodating of all the men sniffing around you? I mean,when was the last time she had a full day to herself around here?”

“Uh…” I tried, really tried, to scour my memory bank.

Wyatt came over at the crack of dawn to work out every morning, while Cal came over most evenings and at least one night every weekend.

And since my heat, the other guys kept popping by with increasing regularity—Alijah asking to borrow a cup of sugar, Owen swinging by to retrieve paperwork he forgot in my office, and Joaquin helping haul last-minute Beaufeather’s orders for Christmas down to Kelsey’s car.

“Shit.” I repeatedly knocked my head against his chest in frustration.

“Don’t feel bad.” He slid a hand between my forehead and his sternum to stop my self-punishment. “Cal and I weren’t exactly minding our manners today. It was well-deserved payback.”

I pulled away and narrowed my eyes at him. “But you two didn’t have to answer Jacobi’s seven hundred questions.Idid.”

“But on the plus side, you got to tell him about us in person. I want him to know. I want everyone to know.”

Pulling me into a tight embrace, Wyatt rolled me onto my back and buried his face in my neck. After a few greedy huffs of my scent, his tongue darted out to trace my collarbone.

“Thisishappening, Morgan.”

Eyes closed, I trailed my fingers through his long hair and let the moment sink in.

The two of us. Together.

His broad, densely muscled form pressed against mine, the steady strength of his pulse echoing the confidence in his voice. Each stroke of his fingers beckoned another flicker of desire. The breathless shivers caused by the teasing grazes of his tongue.

Twirling his hair around my fingers, I marveled at its inky softness. “Is working together going to be a problem?”

“No,” he asked, without hesitation. “We really won’t see each other that much. Not like you and Cal during football. If he can keep your relationship a secret, I can do the same.”

“Okay,” I said, pressing his coiled hair to my lips. “But if being around each other during gymnastics meets is too difficult for you, or triggers your pheromones—”

“It won’t, I promise.”

“Are we having a conversation, or are you just agreeing with everything I’m saying right now because you want to use your free pass?”

“Probably a bit of both.” His nose trailed along the side of my neck. “But I’ll admit I used to agree with most things you said because I was desperate for your approval.”

His words stung, an unintentional double-edged sword of honesty and regret that cut deep without meaning to.

Was the pain of our separation destined to be like my temper—an unbreakable curse—or could we learn to mend the matching voids in our souls?

“You don’t need my approval, Wyatt,” I murmured as I slipped my glasses off. Reaching back, I tucked them behind a pillow for safety. “Or to go out of your way to please me. I want us to be together as we are now. The current versions of us. No more looking back.”

Framing his face with my hands, I studied his exquisite features, wishing I could surgically excise his deeply ingrained self-doubts.

Bringing our mouths together, I controlled the pace of our meandering kiss, starting with languid presses, my teeth catching on the fullness of his bottom lip.

As I inched his shirt higher, I parted my mouth, welcoming his eager intrusion. I let him deepen the kiss for a few heart-fluttering moments, but refused to surrender, giving his tongue a teasing nip before pulling away.

As I guided his shirt higher, Wyatt took over. He pulled it off to reveal the chiseled masterpiece of his torso. My fingers trailed along his pecs and abs, circling the Olympic rings tattooed on his ribs, drinking in every detail of his body.