Page 108 of Perfectly Naïve
Shaking my head, I inspect the register like it’s a planet in need of conquering. There’s no way I can relax when there’s little dust creatures clinging to it. “I have to clean.”
“Now? It’s eight—ow!”
I spin around to see Wilder rubbing his ribs and Sawyer wearing an innocent look. Liam rises, turning off the TV altogether and slowly approaching me.
“How are you feeling?”
What type of question is that? “Fine, why?” I ask, crossing my arms.
“Is that so?” he asks, gaze shifting to my defensive posture before lifting to my face. “Do you feel feverish?”
“What? No, why would I—” I gasp. There are a few primary indicators of what he’s implying. I glance at the vent again. Since when have I cared about cleaning them? Seriously, though, it’s filthy. “Of course. All the signs are here.”
“What are you thinking, sweetness?” Wilder prompts.
“Impulsive, near-obsessive urges to clean. Irritation. Hunger. Fever.”
Liam nods. “All that leads to . . .”
“My heat is coming,” I whisper, biting my lip and suddenly feeling way out of my depth. “I’m in active preheat, and soon, I’ll want all of you in the nest. I’ll want to fuck all of you.” I gulp. “Fuck. All. Of you.” Maybe if I say it slower, it’ll feel more manageable.
Three purrs rumble through the living room. Liam cups my elbows and pulls me flush against his body. I soften and tip my head back.
“What if I’m bad at nesting?” All the vile words my mother has ever said to me surface, and that insecurity grows.
He grins and shakes his head. “Impossible.”
“I could be terr?—”
His palm muffles the rest of the word. “No. You are amazing. You haven’t even started, and you’re already doing great.” He slides his hand to cup the back of my head. “And we’re going to help you clean.”
“We are? Ow, fuck. I mean, of course we are,” Wilder says quickly.
My eyes water. “The vents?” There’s no good reason for me to be emotional; I simply am and can’t control it. The thought of them helping me clean... I think I could cry.
“The vents, the rug, everything and anything you need. Just tell us what to do.”
Nodding, I blink back the tears and clear my throat. “Everyone take a vent. Someone order rug tape, then we’ll move to cleaning the window stools.”
“Sills?” Wilder asks in confusion.
“How are we twins?” Hayes grumbles. “The stools are the bottom ledge. Obviously that’s what she means.”
Wilder gives him a look. “Yes,obviously.”
The twins start bickering, but an alert dings, interrupting them. “Rug tape ordered.” Sawyer appears next to Liam. “You’re going to kick this nesting’s ass.”
“Should I do it alone?”
He rears back. “And exclude your pack from all this manic energy? Hell, no. Besides”—he dives in and kisses me—“I’ve been dying to clean the particulate matter.”
“Now youaremaking fun of me.”
He boops my nose. “Only a little, but I will take this dust seriously.”
Hayes and Wilder join us, one holding towels and the other holding an environmentally friendly cleaner. They’re protecting the vulnerable ecosystems surrounding Chicago?
My throat clogs with emotion and a tear slides down my face.
