Page 108 of Impossible

I’m thinking of Risk’s peaceful smile, illuminated by the firelight. I’m remembering his lips, the inferno of his hard body pressed against mine. The angular set of his shoulders, his lithe movements, like he can’t walk, only dance or run or jump. The way Joshua flushed when Risk complimented him, pleased and pretending not to be. Joshua’s pale skin and rosy cheeks and full lips, the hollow of his throat and the way his shirt draped, casting the lean planes of his body just so.

My hand speeds up and the ache only intensifies, better but so much worse.

What would it have felt like if Leon closed the distance between us on Wednesday, right here in this room? If he had lowered himself on top of me? I’m writhing, getting all tangled in my nest at the thought, imagining his hand on my cheek, my neck, my shoulder, my chest.

I imagine his stump. Untucking his sleeve and sliding it up his arm and placing the gentlest of kisses on everything he seems so intent on hiding from me.

I’m sweating now, my fingers slippery between my legs, moving faster and faster. I realize what I want—no, what Ineed—is to be filled. Knotted.

A curious horror creeps through me at the thought. Hollis’s jeans fit him so well, could I imagine myself unzipping them? Tugging his sweater up, running my palm over the flat plane of his abs, towards what lay underneath?

I’m beyond shame, biting my lip to keep from making sounds. I imagine him to be soft, maybe hot like me. I imagine his arms closing around my body, holding me to him. I imagine him burying his nose in my hair, breathing in deeply, his shoulders relaxing as I palm his weight.

And that’s when it all feels like a roaring ocean wave within me, frothing and foaming and chaotic and rising up and up and up until it crests and comes crashing back down in a roiling mass of sensation, everything squeezed and pulled and soimpossiblygood.

My body bucks, cloves and woodsmoke and pine and fresh rain and citrusy sweet black tea.

I pant in the aftermath, my sheets soaked with sweat and me, my heart thudding in my chest. Something inside me still aches.

My bedside lamp is still on. Crickets chirp outside. An omega laughs somewhere down the hall. A shower is running. I am throbbing, but the world around me is still.

Epilogue - Mall

Hollis

I’mnotyetthirtyyears old, but there is nothing in the world that makes me feel as elderly as walking through a mall.

Children with phones as big as their heads and hair colors selected from a color-wheel rather than nature. Tinny music that belongs in a club and potted plants better manicured than most of the girls who are openly ogling us as we walk by. Their scents are all beta-bland. After Indie, every scent in the world feels canned.

“People actually want to look likethat?”I ask, eyeing a mannequin wearing an outfit that looks like it was sent through a paper shredder before being taped into place.

Risk strikes a pose, imitating the mannequin. He pictures himself in the outfit.

“You’d be arrested for indecent exposure,” I grumble, but Leon is laughing and Joshua is already throwing an arm over Risk’s shoulder, dragging him along. “We’renotshopping there,” I say. I will not have Indie walking around partiallyexposed.

All I wanted was to get her a phone. I sent her away last night before I calmed down enough to explain why. With her being phoneless, I have no method by which to reassure her that she did nothing wrong. To check if she’s ok. We’ve all been antsy, but I’m the worst. I was the one who sent her away. None of us can forget that fact. I don’t know what I was supposed to do differently, but the thought of her alone and frightened is painful. Frightened byus.

Buying the phone is only step one in alleviating the guilt. Without Risk working today, none of us has a reason to go to the Complex to give it to her. We fought about whether we should try to go anyway, but if she’s in her dorm, there’s no way to get to her. The dorm minders sure as hell wouldn’t let four alphas in.

Waiting is agonizing, and when Joshua had the idea to buy her clothes as well, even though I was adamantly opposed, it didn’t take much to wear me down. His memory of her calling herself ‘Indie the Ignominious’ was enough, actually.Ignominious. Deserving of public disgrace or shame.

Just the thought makes me want to snarl. Not my omega. She deserves to feel worthy and beautiful. And if we can distract ourselves from the restlessness of not being able to see her with the act of shopping for her, I’m game. Whatever it takes to make this uncomfortable feeling in my chest go away.

I don’t know how we’ll manage to give her the clothes without making her feel smothered or afraid or indebted, but we have to find a way. I need her whole. I need her tofeelwhole.

“Hello gentlemen! What are we shopping for today?” the beta that greets us inside the massive department store eyes each of us in turn. She’s trying to figure out what we are to each other.

Joshua still has his arm thrown over Risk’s shoulder. He’s in his trademark white v-neck and fitted black jeans. Risk is in a bowling shirt straight out of the nineties with white-washed skinny jeans and cowboy boots. Leon is in the same white thermal shirt and fatigues that I’m fairly certain he buys in bulk from the Army surplus. I tried to wear a button up and slacks, but Risk refused to leave the house with me dressed the way I was. We ended up bargaining on our outfits, but somehow all I managed to talk him out of was the fur coat he planned on adding to his ensemble, while I’m now in jeans and a sweater.

“Women’s clothes,” I answer. “Er, teenager, actually. Where do the cool kids shop?”

Risk bites back his chuckle and I glare at him. This whole department store thing is foreign to me. I have a personal shopper. Risk’s wardrobe is mostly sourced from dumpsters and our closets. He protests this thought when it crosses my mind, showing me a picture of… A Salvation Army?Somuch better.

“Ah, a gift for… a niece?” the sales lady asks.

“Something like that,” Leon grunts.

Her eyes fix on him and travel up and down his body appreciatively before beckoning us to follow her. I suppose simply pointing the way won’t do. “Have a special occasion we’re buying for?” she asks.

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