Page 109 of Perfectly Naïve
“Why is she crying? Oh god, the omega is leaking!”
“Wilder,” Sawyer says, biting back a laugh.
I wave my hand. “It’s fine,” I blubber. “The cleaner, just, there won’t be many volatile organic compounds in the air and the fish.” I shake my head and blink rapidly. “You’re saving the fish.” A sob bursts out of me.
If Wilder was worried before, he appears downright terrified now.
Hayes pulls me into his arms, shushing me. “It’s okay, omega. We love fish.”
“Does she know we eat—fuck, okay, okay! Jesus. Stop elbowing me!” Wilder complains.
“Maybe if you’d stop asking for it,” Sawyer grumbles.
“Children, no fighting.” Liam rubs my back.
Hayes pulls away slightly to look down at me. “Should we clean?”
“Yeah,” I say, sniffling again. “Those vents are really bothering me.”
“Then we better get to it,” he murmurs, squeezing me one more time in that bear-like hug.
Together, we get to work cleaning. The white rags end up a light shade of gray by the time we’re done with the vents andwindow stools. Then I see the baseboards. I bite my cheek and glance at the men, who all nod and drop to their knees alongside me, coming along this cleaning journey with me every step of the way.
Homo sapiens have come so far. From living in caves, using sticks sharpened into tools, to discovering electricity and everything that’s happened since, we’ve advanced faster than any other animals, due to our cognitive abilities.
And yet it’s a nest, my own type of cave, that threatens to unravel all that progress and turn me into a growling, chest-pounding cavewoman.
With my hands on my hips, I glare at the mattress covered in blankets and pillows. Something isn’t right. Tipping my head up, I sniff the air, growling softly under my breath. That’s not right, either.
Stomping out of the nest, I march to Sawyer’s room. My perfume, heavy and thick, trails after me. It’s progressively getting stronger as each day passes. He’s reading a book, but he sets it aside as I slide his closet door open.
“What are you up to now?” he asks.
It’s been three days since my preheat began. Three days of demanding texts from my mother that I’ve simply ignored. Three days of nothing at all from my dads, not that I’m surprised. I’ve managed to go to work and keep a mostly level head, but as soon as I step inside the house every night, I can’t help feeling that something needs to be done. The guys have continued to offer their help, but right now, I don’t even want them in the same room with me.
Logically, I know the irritation is due to the hormones flooding my body. Realistically, as Sawyerjoins me at the closet, I shoot him a threatening look and consider hissing at him.
“No touching.” Soon enough, I’ll be begging for their touch, even desperate for it. I guess my reaction now is meant to help my body process all the stimulation that’s coming my way.
He holds up his hands. “Of course not.”
I nod and turn back to the closet. “I need a shirt.” My eyes fall on the basket of dirty clothes. I pluck out the green shirt he wore the other day and bring it to my nose and breathe in. “Perfect.”
“I have clean ones.”
Shaking my head, I glance at him. “They don’t smell like you.” I lean forward and breathe him in, sighing. He smells so good. He reaches for me and I recoil. “No, bad alpha.”
He rolls his lips together and steps back.
Harrumphing, I head to Liam’s room next, stepping inside. He’s freshly showered with a towel wrapped around his waist, but all that tantalizing skin can wait. I need a shirt. NOW. He watches me grab one from his basket.
Sawyer leans against the doorframe. “She’s nesting hard.”
“Shecan hear you,” I grumble.
Liam clears his throat. “Can I help you?”
“Absolutely not. You stay here, with your hands where I can see them.”
