Page 67 of Altius
“I was wondering about those.” Alijah’s head tilted to the side as he stared at her. “You asked Owen to facilitate because Cal can’t. As much as he—and we—would like to maintain control and always be mindful of your needs, your pheromones…”
Alijah gazed out the window with a self-deprecating smile and laughed, the sound more air than mirth. As if he’d only just discovered how weak he was for Morgan Van Daal.
“I’m a goner.” He leaned against my side. “We’re both goners.”
“That’s why I need someone logical at the helm—especially since this isjustsex. And there’s no one I trust more than Owen tonotbe attracted to me.”
My fingers flexed against my jeans. I was confident she was wrong about Owen. He was into her even if he didn’t know how to express it yet.
But if correcting her cost us this chance…
I couldn’t take that risk. Especially since Alijah and I wanted a lot more with Morgan in the future than just sex.
“Count us in. That goes for Owen, too.” I showed her Cal’s latest texts, carefully avoiding the ones where he cursed me out for stealing his truck and going rogue. “He’s with Cal and Wyatt, filling out the paperwork right now.”
“Thank you, guys,” she said with visible relief as the server arrived with Alijah’s drink. “Thank you so much—but this still counts as one of our lunch dates.”
Sixteen
Morgan
Cal and Wyatt hauled trash bags out of my ruined nest. The conference championship game played on the laptop on the credenza near the door, flanked by several trays of snacks, including chips and salsa, candy, and vegetables. Simpler than Kelsey’s usual party fare, but enough to keep us going.
The gift bags from Wyatt and Cal’s sweaters were safely hidden in my closet for the time being. After Kelsey finished performing her stylish witchcraft, I was tempted to create a permanent space for their offerings.
Who doesn’t want a secret reliquary of cashmere, hot sauce, and high fantasy?
“Do you want to keep the green theme?” Kelsey asked, lounging on the extra-wide mattress in a baggy retro sweater and leggings. She was browsing home decor websites on her laptop between bites of licorice.
“You know I don’t care.” I was hunkered down in the corner, struggling to remove a salvageable piece of art from its ruined frame.
“But can I get you to care long enough to approve adding a mini fridge?”
Digging a nail under the stuck backing clip, I pushed and prodded in vain. “Not going to be in the mood to eat.”
“Now I remember why I let Jacobi handle your nest in the first place. You made the process impossible.”
“What?” The frame clattered back to the floor. It was not a good day for dexterity. “How is giving you free rein making this difficult?”
“Because you’re the worst kind of client. You say anything’s fine, but your definition of anything isincrediblynarrow. I can’t just go wild, like full-blown goth or beige bohemian. You’d freak.”
“Goth could be fun.” Wyatt squatted beside me, taking the problematic picture frame and promptly dismantling it.
“You mean kinky,” I whispered, earning an enthusiastic nod and salacious grin.
He’d admirably performed his temporary roles as my no-nonsense workout buddy and reliable chauffeur—when Kelsey or Cal didn’t have reason to step in—but I kept noticing his gaze lingering on my mouth.
And he’d submitted all the requisite heat-related paperwork three hours before the others.
I was worried he was reading too much into the heat invitation. Same for Joaquin and Alijah. I’d have to stick to my guns and be clear about my boundaries. My heat was just that, a heat. Not a green light for further romantic entanglements.
Maybe a yellow light, I admitted, covertly admiring the fluid motion of Wyatt’s toned forearms.
Thankfully, Owen was on board for policing the rest of his pack. Well, almost pack.
It was becoming a bad habit of mine, lumping all five of them under the same heading.
“What about Art Deco?” Cal asked, removing a broken sconce cover from the wall. “Could tie into the existing green nicely.”
