Page 250 of The Omega Exchange: Omnibus
Chapter Sixteen
Melody
Breakfast ends up being more like brunch.
Nik brings me out to the living room, or I guess one of them. The storm is less severe, but as I stare outside, it’s clear it’s still gloomy and gray.
Luckily we haven’t lost power again. I study the cliff face and the way the waves crash violently against it. It’s awe inspiring. I don’t have any other words to describe it. It’s foggy, or maybe there’s another word to explain the dark clouds and low visibility, but if there is, I don’t know it.
Nik comes into the room with a tray of breakfast goodies. He places it down on the coffee table and gives me a dangerous grin.
I smile back at him over my shoulder as he prowls closer. He’s so handsome and well put together that I feel frumpy in comparison. I’m not sure if it’s the collared shirt folded down over his sweater, or the dark jeans combined with his boots, but it all makes him look very high class.
My dress cost twenty-five dollars on sale at a store that also sells home goods. Now that I’m more coherent and really taking in their home, it’s hard not to feel inadequate.
I know I’ve got that look that screams small town. I was surprised when he didn’t ask me to leave immediately uponwaking up, but I’m not holding my breath. I know there was a big problem while the power was out. He’s being polite and feeding me, but I won’t be shocked when he has to make his exit to get back to work.
“Come on, breakfast is waiting.” Nik gives my hips a squeeze.
I follow him to the couch and move to sit next to him, but he carefully lifts me into his lap before stretching to grab the plate of food.
“Are you okay with me feeding you by hand?”
“Yeah,” I agree. I’m not sure why I’m suddenly so self-conscious of everything I do or say, but Ireallyam.
He pulls the topper off the plate and sets it aside. “The other will have breakfast meats and eggs. Are there any foods you don’t care for?”
“No, not at all. Not for breakfast. I’m not picky.” I give a tight smile, hoping it doesn’t come off as rude.
My stomach hasn’t felt great since I woke up this morning. It’s nothing serious.
I’m more concerned that I probably shouldn’t be eating, but I know that would come off as rude, and one thing that was drilled into my head growing up is manners.
When I woke up, I thought it was that I went too long without eating, but now it’s starting to feel like a different type of stomachache.
“You can be vocal about your likes and dislikes. I don’t want to think I’m learning something about you only to realize down the line that you were just being polite,” he says, carefully resting the plate on his stomach before slicing the French toast.
“I’ve never been spoiled the way I have since coming here.”
“I don’t think we’ve done anything to particularly spoil you. At least not yet.” He offers me a bite.
I take it and the sugary sweet taste hits my tongue. This is the type of treat omegas usually lose their minds for. Normally, I would be too, but it’s not hitting the spot today at all.
My mouth fills with saliva, and no matter how many times I swallow, it doesn’t help.
He offers me a drink, and I grab the bottle of water, taking a long swig.
It doesn’t help either.
In fact, that was a bad idea.
The tattoos on his hands flex as he offers me another bite.
Don’t cringe, be polite and just take it. My head shakes involuntarily as a wave of nausea hits me hard.
“Are you feeling okay?” he asks with wide eyes.
“I don’t think I’m going to eat anymore if that’s okay. My stomach doesn’t feel so good. I’m sorry, excuse me...” I am mortified, but that doesn’t stop me from climbing out of his lap and bolting from the room.
