Page 33 of These Bonds that Unite Us
Different restaurants or cafes from each stop of their tour are accompanied by a short message telling me about the places he visited. And every single text holds a promise to take me back to those places to enjoy them together. Kimchi Carbonara from Las Vegas. Spicy burgers in Portland. Braised beef head burritos in Los Angeles.
The texts are numerous, continuing long after their tour had ended. They only seem to have stopped after we talked at the Candy Courage show last weekend.
If he was this invested in our future, why did he leave after helping me through my heat? Were these messages his way of assuaging his guilt over abandoning me?
My phone rings, startling me enough I nearly send the dirty dishes crashing to the floor. I manage to catch the tray and pull it back toward me. On the screen, I see my best friend’s smiling face.
“Hey,” I answer lightly, trying to imbue some false happiness into my voice so she won’t immediately worry about me.
“Yay, you got the phone! How’s life with your dumbasses? Have they started groveling yet?” My best friend asks. She must be on the balcony of Mr. Acherley’s apartment because the wind is blowing her curly hair across her cheeks.
“Kind of?” We haven’t talked since Donovan dropped her off, so I fill her in on the massive house and nest they bought for me. Her eyes are wide and gleeful as I describe it to her.
“Damnnnnn, Oms! Wait–” Her eyes narrow as she takes in the room around me. “That doesn’t look like an epic nest.”
“It isn’t. This is their guest room.”
“Um, why?”
“Because I’m not their omega so it isn’t my nest.”
“Omen,” Bea huffs. “Look, I know I tried to keep them away from you–because they’re a bunch of assholes who don’t deserve to have an omega as awesome as you–but I thought the whole point of you going to stay with them this week was for you to take advantage of being around them so you can get better?”
Sliding down the bed, I hug a pillow to my chest and use the tray to prop my phone up so she can still see me. “That was the plan, but then I got here, and now… I’m torn between being terrified they will reject me again–for real this time–and wanting nothing to do with them because they’ve already hurt me.”
“I– yeah. Those are both valid concerns. Obviously. I also know you well enough to guess you haven’t explained your fear to Pack Graves?” She gives me a knowing look, one that has my lips thinning. “Exactly. You shy away from conflict and won’tadmit your own feelings to spare others. Something we both know is a side effect of how your birth parents treated you. But they aren’t here Oms. Your father is literally in prison, and your mother will be joining him as soon as they find her.”
She might be right but could it really be so simple?
“Stop hiding. Even if you don’t take them back, go out there and soak up their scents so you can get better. Then you can show them what they missed out on when you find your dream pack.”
“I’ll try,” I promise. I haven’t admitted I’m also afraid my instincts will take over and I’ll be bonded to them by the end of the week. That’s a bridge to cross when the time comes. “Enough about me, how is living with Mr. Acherley?”
Bea groans and buries her face in her hands. “It’s hell! He has so many rules and he still refuses to call me anything but fucking Sabine!”
“I’m guessing you two haven’t hate-fucked yet?” I laugh when she scowls at me through her fingers.
“There will be no sexy older boss/irresistible omega employee in forced proximity story playing out here!” If her eyes weren’t sparkling, I might believe her. “I have enough man-problems on my plate with the other two idiots. I don’t need a third.”
My smile slips a little when her eyes turn sad with longing. We’d all been hoping whatever was building between her, Ridley, and Lex would reach its peak when the two alphas were no longer our bodyguards. Unfortunately for my bestie, both men were assigned to the task force sent to track down Doctor Harrison.
“It will all work out, Bea,” I remind her. “He can’t evade them forever.”
“Why are men so fucking complicated?” She gripes. “If I didn’t love dick so much I’d join Candy Courage’s pack.”
“Have you gotten to see them around the office yet?” I ask, knowing she can talk about their band for hours.
With my stomach full and my best friend’s voice drifting through the room, I can’t fight the weight of my exhaustion and slip back into a dreamless sleep. Since I arrived at Pack Graves’ house two nights ago, my nightmares haven’t been as frequent. Something I am grateful for. I don’t want my sleep to be filled with repeated reminders of my failures. They haunt me enough when I’m awake.
The sun is starting to sink behind the tree line when the guys knock on my door again. I’m disoriented from sleep, so it takes me a minute to force my body to cooperate long enough to get myself to the door. Yet again the hallway is empty, but Titan’s spicy pink pepper and leather scent lingers in the air. At my feet is a large basket filled with…
Is that an electric kettle? Leaning down my heart leaps when I see it is in fact all of the things I need to brew hot tea without leaving the guest room. They even remembered the sugar. Dragging the basket inside, I also grab the pizza box sitting beside it. The smell of cheese, sauce, and dough has my stomach cheering expectantly.
Bringing it all over to the bed leaves me winded, my lungs and limbs burning from the effort. I slump against the messy bedding and wait for a wave of dizziness to pass. Being so sick fucking sucks. I wish I could just will my body to get over this chemical rejection so I could move on, but Fate seems determined for me to end up with my would-be mates across the house.
Finally settled back in bed with an open box of pizza and a freshly brewed cup of tea, I pull up a book on my phone and try to get lost in the world of groveling cowboys. Having sex while riding on the back of a horse isn’t an idea that’s ever crossed my mind, but damn is it fun to read about!
Warm tingles start on my thigh, right above my knee, but I ignore them while I finish the last few chapters of my book. Maybe I need to find some cowboys of my own instead of chasing after asshole musicians. Glancing around the room, I decide against any cowboy-chasing ideas. I may love outdoor adventures, but living on a farm and doing hard manual labor every day is not the path for me.
