Page 50 of Stream Heat
"Morning," he murmured, heading straight for the tea kettle.
"Hey." I watched him from the corner of my eye, wondering if he'd notice anything amiss in the kitchen. Did I take something of his without realizing it? The thought made my stomach clench with anxiety.
"Stream prep today?" he asked, measuring loose tea leaves with precise movements.
"Yeah. Tournament's tomorrow. Need to review the maps again."
He nodded, steeping his tea with methodical patience. "Ash upgraded your rig yesterday. Better cooling, improved latency. Should help with the sensory processing issues."
The casual mention of my condition, stated as a technical problem with a technical solution, somehow made it easier to bear. Jace never treated my withdrawal symptoms as weakness, just as parameters to be accommodated.
"Thanks," I said, meaning it. "He didn't have to do that."
Jace's eyes met mine briefly, something unspoken in their depths. "He wanted to."
Before I could respond, thundering footsteps announced Theo's arrival. He burst into the kitchen with his usual chaotic energy, though he visibly dialed it back when he saw me.
"Morning, sunshine!" he grinned, though his voice was softer than his usual boom. "Ready to dominate some tournament prep today?"
"Born ready," I replied automatically, falling into our familiar banter despite my inner turmoil. "Question is whether you can keep up without your usual gallon of energy drink."
"Please. I'm naturally this awesome." He bounced around the kitchen, grabbing breakfast with frenetic efficiency. "Though speaking of energy drinks, have you seen my limited edition cans? Could've sworn I had one left."
My heart stopped. The red and gold can sitting on my desk, hidden behind my monitor. I'd taken it yesterday, intending to try it, then forgotten completely.
"No idea," I lied, avoiding Jace's too-perceptive gaze. "Maybe check the garage? Ash was reorganizing yesterday."
"Good call!" Theo bounded off, crisis temporarily averted.
Jace said nothing, but something in his expression made me wonder if he'd noticed the slight hitch in my voice, the way my scent might have spiked with guilt.
"I should get to work," I muttered, rinsing my bowl quickly. "Maps won't memorize themselves."
I retreated to my room, closing the door with perhaps a touch more force than necessary. The energy drink can gleamed accusingly from behind my monitor. I needed to return it, along with everything else I'd taken.
Yet even as I resolved to do exactly that, my eyes were drawn to Reid's hoodie draped over my chair. The thought of parting with it sent a jolt of anxiety through me so intense it was almost painful.
"What is wrong with you?" I whispered, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes. "They're just objects. Just things."
But they weren't just things. They were anchors, connections, tangible links to the alphas who were becoming increasingly important to me despite all my efforts to maintain emotional distance.
A knock at my door made me jump.
"Quinn?" Reid's voice, deep and commanding even through the wood. "Got a minute?"
My heart rate doubled instantly. Had he noticed the missing cap? The hoodie? Was he here to confront me about my bizarre hoarding behavior?
"Just a second," I called, frantically shoving the most obvious items, his cap and Theo's energy drink, under my bed before opening the door.
Reid stood in the hallway, freshly showered, hair damp, wearing a simple black t-shirt that did nothing to hide the powerful lines of his shoulders. His scent, cedar and thunderstorms, washed over me, making my knees weak despite my best efforts to remain unaffected.
"Tournament prep meeting in twenty," he said, his eyes scanning my face with that unnerving intensity that seemed to see right through me. "Wanted to check if you're up for it or need more recovery time."
"I'm fine," I said automatically, then winced at how defensive it sounded. "I mean, yes, I'll be there."
His gaze traveled past me into my room, and I fought the urge to block his view. Could he see the changes? The subtle rearrangement of space to accommodate items that carried his scent, his pack's scent?
"New setup?" he asked, nodding toward my desk where I'd repositioned my monitors to make room for the various stolen treasures.
