Page 23 of Choosing Their Omega

“I’ll bet he does. He told me how he grew up with a lot of outside around him.” I prepare breakfast, and glance at the clock. Maybe I should make something for the men, too?

As if on cue, the front door opens and I hear skittering paws as Winston barrels into the kitchen. He bumps up against me, wagging his tail, and I reach down to give him scritches behind his ear. “What a good boy! Did you enjoy your morning walk?”

The men enter and Miles grins. “Hey, is it okay if we go into your room?”

“Um, sure, yeah.” I frown. “Why would you want to go in there?”

“We’re painting it.”

My mind skitters to a halt. “You’re… what?”

“What color would you like?”

“You’re serious. You’re painting my room?”

“Of course. You didn’t like the color.” Miles sounds baffled that I’m confused at this.

I’m blown away. These men don’t owe me anything. They didn’t owe it to me to be so kind and take me in, and now that I’m their employee, they don’t owe it to me to change the room however I want. It’s their home, not mine.

But here they all are, constantly going out of their way for me with the coffee and now this. It’s almost unbearably kind.

“I… I don’t know what color I’d like. Do you have a preference? I mean, it’s your house, after all. Yours and everyone else’s.”

Miles snorts with laughter. “Yeah, no, do not ask me when it comes to things like that. I’m completely out of touch, just ask my pack mates. I’ve always got my head in the clouds. Head among the stars.”

“That sounds like it’s nice, though.”

“I mean literally.” Miles blushes a little. “I, uh, I’m obsessed with space and astronomy. Always have been.”

That surprises me. My surprise must show on my face, because Miles chuckles. “I know, it’s not what you’d expect from a sports player. We’re all meatheads, or at least heavy jocks. That’s what everyone thinks.”

“I think it’s really great. I love that you’re also a nerd. Who says people can’t be more than one thing, right? People don’t fit into simple boxes.”

Miles smiles at me, a little shy. “I’m glad to hear it. Yeah, I had a telescope when I was a kid and I’d look up at the stars on certain nights. It was nice, since I grew up in a small town without a lot of light pollution. My dad would drive me out into the country when there was a meteor shower or a comet so that we could really get a good look.”

“That’s wonderful. I was never super into science but I loved the stars in poetry… ad astra, per aspera…”

Miles’s smile widens. “I’ve always loved that quote too.” He pulls out of his pocket some paint chips. “Seriously, pick a color. We’re off to practice, but when we get back, we can get the paint and do it all up for you.”

I want to protest again that they really don’t have to do this, but I also don’t want to upset them by seeming ungrateful. I really do appreciate how kind they’re being, and it’ll be nice to have a color for my room that I’ll like. I couldn’t paint the walls of my old apartment, and even if I’d been allowed, the paint probably would’ve caused the cheap plaster to fall off.

While Ben eats, I flip through the paint colors and pick one, a nice soothing light green color. It makes me think of forests and the countryside, something I think the men will like too, since three of them grew up in small towns.

Once Ben’s breakfast is finished, I spend the day with him playing in the backyard, doing finger painting on the play room floor, taking a bath, building LEGOs, then taking him and Winston for a walk.

He’s such a sweet kid. I’ve only been his nanny for a day, but I already feel so protective over him. Ben’s full of life and joy, even though he’s a bit quiet and more clingy than most toddlers his age.

I don’t mind. I get it, I really do. I was clingy with my grandmother after Mom left, and I was older.

The guys get home from practice right as I’m fixing an afternoon snack for Ben, so it’ll be ready after his nap. It’s been nice and peaceful in the house, and I’ve had time to organize my romance books a bit more. Now, Winston’s sitting at my feet while I prepare the food and eat my own lunch.

“This isn’t for puppies,” I tell him sternly. “It’s not good for you.”

I hear the front door open quietly. The men must be aware this is Ben’s naptime, thanks to the schedule on the fridge.

Lawson enters the room and smiles. “Hey, how’s he been?”

“Great, he’s napping right now, just making him something to eat. Do you want anything?”

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