Page 191 of Knot Baked Out For This
"We built you a nest," Rowan corrects, and there's something in his voice—pride, possessiveness, love so obvious it hurts. "Your space. Where you're safe. Where you can just... be."
Where I can just be.
Not perform. Not prove myself. Not apologize for taking up space or having needs or being too much. Just be.
I turn back to the nest, really looking at it now.
The way the blankets are layered shows an understanding of texture and weight that only comes from paying attention. The pillows are arranged by size and firmness like someone actually researched optimal omega nest construction. And the scents—god, the scents are so perfectly balanced that walking toward it feels like walking into a hug.
"Can I?" I gesture at the nest, suddenly shy.
"It's yours," Luca says. "You never have to ask permission for your own nest."
Right. Because it's mine. This is mine. All mine!
I slip off my heels—expensive and beautiful and absolutely not nest-appropriate—and step onto the platform. The blankets are soft under my feet, giving way just enough that I sink slightly, and when I lower myself into the center, it's like the nest rises up to embrace me.
Oh.
Oh, this is?—
I burrow into the blankets, pulling them around me, breathing in pack scent mixed with my own vanilla and cinnamon, and something inside me that's been clenched tight for three years finally, finally relaxes.
"This is perfect," I whisper into the softness.
"You're perfect," Rowan says, and I look up to find all three of them watching me with expressions that make my heart stutter. "We just wanted to prove we know it."
Levi doesn't wait for an invitation—he never does—just kicks off his shoes and flops into the nest beside me, immediately wrapping around me like an octopus. "Finally! Do you know how hard it was not to tell you? Keeping secrets is torture!"
"You told her about Gerald," Luca points out, settling on my other side with much more grace.
"Gerald's a duck, not a secret!"
"You were feeding him for three months without mentioning it!"
"That's different!"
"How is that different?"
"Gerald needed privacy for his duck activities!"
I'm laughing, can't help it, pressed between them while they bicker over my head like this is normal. Like cuddling in a custom-built omega nest in a renovated barn is just another Tuesday evening before the biggest baking weekend of the year.
Rowan settles at my feet—because of course he does, always the protector, always making sure he can see the door—and his hand finds my ankle, thumb rubbing circles that are both soothing and intentional.
"How long did this take?" I ask into Levi's shoulder.
"Two weeks," Rowan says. "Since right after the corn maze. We've been working on it every night after you went to sleep."
"I thought you were doing station paperwork!"
"We were doing nest construction," Luca corrects. "Paperwork was the cover story."
"You all lied to me!"
"We all loved you," Levi says simply. "Past tense. Present tense. Future tense. All the tenses."
My chest does that thing again, that tight-warm-aching thing that means too many feelings at once.
