Page 74 of One for the Money
My favorite one is the pink one with the white swirl in the middle. I had no idea what it was supposed to taste like, other than “pink,” but I have always loved it anyway.
“Well, uh…” Jude trails off, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. His curly, black hair hangs loose, and the ringlets bounce with the movement.
My waves could never look that good. I wonder how many hair products he uses to achieve that kind of definition.
“Let’s get you into bed,” Matteo says gently. “I’m sure you’re tired.”
I am. It’s that bone-deep weariness that I’m not sure I can ever overcome, regardless of how much I sleep. It’s been ages since I slept deeply and soundly, and that’s not accounting for the flu and now the FOS I’m dealing with.
I am so fucking tired I feel like I’m going to cry.
Or maybe that’s everything else producing that desire.
I place a knee on the bed, but freeze. “I should shower. I can’t remember the last time I did. I’m disgusting.”
Jude grunts and shakes his head. “No, you’re fine. Just lie down.”
I know I’m not fine. Not only has it been days since I bathed, but I’m pretty sure I’m crusted with vomit somewhere, and I don’t doubt that stress pheromones are soaked into my skin.
But I don’t argue with him. It won’t do any good, and I don’t have the energy.
Climbing into the bed and pulling his comforter over me feels like taking a drink of water after a workout. I’m momentarily refreshed, but I know it’s not enough. I needmore. I burrow beneath it, cocooning my body in the soft fabric and sticky-sweet scent.
The sound of the door opening should startle me, but I know I’m protected here. This place is safe.
For now.
Chapter 27
The twinsand Quinton are standing in the doorway, unable to look away from the wiggling lump of Omega on my bed. My chest is puffed up with pride at the sight of her wrapped in my belongings, finally settling a bit.
I did that. My scent did that.
She pokes her head out from under the blanket, and her eyebrows furrow. There’s distress on her features, and I don’t understand where it came from until she holds her hand out and flexes her fingers in a grabbing motion.
“Please,” she whines, eyes locked on Quinton.
His smile is blinding, and I marvel at the change in him. For months, he’s been stoned, his energy low, and his involvement with things outside of Matteo and his act minimal. But right now, he’s sober, his eyes are clear, and he’s leading the charge at making Alex comfortable.
The magic of a scent match.
Quinton holds out two pillows, and Alex snatches them both, pulling them to her face and inhaling deeply. After a moment, she strategically places them on my bed and holds her hand out again.
This time, Dario places a blanket in her hand. She repeats the scenting ritual before settling it down around her.
And then there’s Dexter.
He’s clutching an eye mask with everything he’s got, like it would physically pain him to put it down, staring at Alex like she’s the beginning and end of the world.
She holds out her hand, and he places it gently on her palm. “I figured Jude probably didn’t have blackout curtains, and thought the lighting may be too harsh…” He trails off, looking away from her. “It’s stupid.”
An adorably aggressive sound escapes her, causing Dexter to step back. “It’s not stupid,” she snaps at him with a cute little Omega growl. “It’s thoughtful and wonderful, and you’re never getting it back.”
He blushes bright red, and jealousy flares within me. With that small offering, he got her Omega instincts to take over entirely, even if only for a moment.
That’s what we need to help her get better. We need to help her embrace her inner Omega, and let us take care of her. But someone like Alex isn’t going to let go of control easily.
After hooking the eyemask around her head and wearing it like a headband, Alex begins to truly nest. The blankets and my sheets are getting balled up and then spread out, pillows are getting wedged in, and yet Alex doesn’t look settled.
