Page 143 of Bonds of Fate

“I’m better? Seventeen stitches and it’s healed?”

“Crazy. I’m going to call Riordan.” He kisses Nix’s cheek and then whispers, “Have fun with Grayson.” His sly smile is so sexy, eyes twinkling behind his glasses, and it makes Nix think about following the doctor out the door and into his library just so he candistracthim from his call and his questions. Questions he has about omegas.

Sigh.

The things Nix can add to his weird list of ‘omega superpowers’ are getting longer, and perhaps accelerated healing and voluntary scent suppression isn’t even the weirdest.

“Hey. Baby?” Luca is waving his hand in front of Nix’s face as Gideon rolls out the water hose. Nix’s beta smells better—not his usual sweet chocolate-mocha, but better than before. If Nix is going to be in the right mindset to give Grayson hisalltonight, then he can’t think about Luca’s conflict with Jamie. Goddess knows he has his own tough conversation to have.

But not tonight. Tonight is for Grayson.

“Hey, want to help me get ready for my date?”

Luca jumps and down, squealing. “Fuck, yes! Let’s go! You go get showered, and I’ll bring all my shit to your room.” Luca pulls him to a stop in the middle of the room. “Do you have anything in particular you want to wear? Or can I choose?” Nix lets Luca’s outward enthusiasm drag his mood along, though he envies how effortlessly he compartmentalizes.

Nix doesn’t know what Grayson has planned, but Nix isn’t sure he’d be up for a red tutu today, anyway. “Um. You could choose, but–”

Luca’s understanding smile is so gentle it calms Nix’s worries right away. “Nothing flashy. Got it. I have just the thing. Trust me. Go get in the shower.”

Nix detours to kiss Gideon’s cheek and gets a burst of cold water for his trouble. Squeaking with fake outrage, Nix grins, relieved to see some color back in his face.

“Go have fun, kitten.”

The shower in his room—his room(he might never get used to saying that)—is hot, and the yellow towels are just as soft as he remembered. There are more than yesterday, rolled and stacked so high the pyramid-shaped pile nearly tips over. Now, there’s even a pale yellow loofah sponge and a brand-new hairbrush.

When Nix lifts a towel to his nose, the faint scent of cinnamon clings to the fibers, and his heart soars. Leo was here—thoughtful as ever in this not-so-small-way.

It’s almost incongruous if Nix thinks about it—the tattooed bassist of an indie rock band, the same man with unmatched stage presence, buying pastel towels and making sure Nix has the best hairbrush money can buy.

There’s no doubt about it—Leo was thinking about him. Even with everything their family is going through, this simple act reminds Nix that he is loved. That’s enough to push his lingering sadness for Jamie aside.

Nix washes thoroughly and towels off, slathering himself in the vanilla-almond lotion Grayson had seemed to prefer when he gave Nix all those toiletries.

That’s where Luca finds him when he arrives, a cosmetic bag in hand and clothes hung over his arm. He had taken the time to change his shirt, and the soft black tank smelled like happy-Jamie. Nix can tell that Luca is putting on a brave face because his mocha still has that faint tinge of burnt coffee.

“You okay?”

“Peachy. Don’t worry about me and Jay. He’s an amazing alpha. I’m mad at him, but we will work this out, or he will die trying—I mean,wewill.” He smiles ruefully.

Luca looks through some of the skin care Grayson has given him. “Okay. Ooh, Gray got you some good stuff. You sit, and I’ll do the rest.” He picks out several bottles and begins with a cotton pad and a watery toner.

“When is Gray coming? Snort.Coming.”

Nix just rolls his eyes at his mate’s adolescent humor and closes his eyes for the next thing Luca is slathering on his face. “Around 5:30? What time is it now?”

“We have ninety minutes. You are going to look like a movie star before I’m done. Not that I need to do anything, cuz you are fuckin’ gorgeous.”

Luca continues to add serum and moisturizer and plucks everything that needs it, maybe even some stuff that doesn’t. He uses only a few things from the make-up in his bag and refuses to cover even one of Nix’s freckles.

Even the hairdryer and flat iron are called to action to smooth Nix’s fluffy hair. When he deems Nix ready, he pulls him over to the bed, where the mattress is still missing.

“We ordered you a new one, but it won’t be here until tomorrow.” His scent goes a bit murky with sadness, but he clears his throat and straightens out the white, long-sleeved cotton artist’s shirt he’d brought.

“I think this is the vibe. Grayson has set up in the art house, and this screamsartist’s muse, right?”

It does. It’s long enough to go almost to his knees, and when he pulls it on over his head, it has a deep v-neck tied together with cotton laces and is much too large but is still somehow perfect.

It reminds Nix of a flowy pirate’s shirt, but this is super-soft, almost transparent, luxurious cotton. It’s very feminine but slightly modest if you don’t count the sheerness or the hemline, which peek-a-boo’s open as Nix moves. It’s totally not Luca’s style.

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