Page 120 of Perfectly Naïve
I only catch bits and pieces of their conversations and am only vaguely aware of gentle hands as they clean me up with warm washcloths and coax me to drink water. I float on a cloud of affection and peace, knowing with utter certainty that I am exactly where I belong.
With my mates. My pack.
I’m home.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
OLIVIA
We spend the days after my heat ends snuggling and watching movies and eating anything and everything in sight. I’ve kept my phone off, and it’s been so nice to withdraw from the world and its demands for a while, even if I am starting to grow anxious to get back to the lab. I have a couple of days left of my heat leave from work, and the only people—outside of Nigel, Henry, and Verity—that I’d want to talk to are in this cute little house that’s begun to feel like home.
“Here you go, sweetness.” Wilder sets a bowl of ice cream in my hands with a wink before flopping down onto the couch beside me. We’re being very adult and eating ice cream for breakfast. When it’s almost noon.
Humming around the first delicious bite, I let my mind wander to the future and what it holds.
“What’re you thinking about so hard, Ms. Flynn?” Sawyer asks me playfully from his spot at the end of the couch.
Olivia Flynn. I thought it would take some getting used to, but it feels right. Now that we’re officially mated, I can leave the Wellington name—and my parents—behind. That is,once we’ve completed the official name change. The government certainly puts a damper on love, with all their paperwork and taxes.
Regardless of the government’s machinations, I’m ready to move in. I’m hoping I can sneak into my parents’ house while my mom is away at her weekly Omega Social Club lunch. I have no intention of telling her or my dads that I’m mated until I speak with Henry first. I need him there with me, on my side. Although I don’t care what my parents think about my choice of pack, that doesn’t mean just imagining their reactions doesn’t give me hives.
“Baby?” Sawyer’s voice is soft but concerned.
“Sorry. I was just thinking about going to my parents’ house. I need to pack my things. I didn’t pack any professional clothes for work in my bag.”
Liam frowns, all too familiar with my mother, at least by reputation. “You don’t need to do that. We can take care of everything. We’re your mates, after all. It’s our job to take care of you now.”
My sweet Liam. They would do it too, I know they would. But I don’t plan to take everything. So much of my closet is full of things my mother insisted I wear, and I no longer need to appease her. I only want to bring things that are meaningful and only the clothes I like.
“I need to do this. I promise, I won’t be gone long, and my mom won’t even be home.” That knowledge soothes some of the churning in my gut. Fighting with my mom is my idea of a nightmare.
“Are you sure?” Hayes asks.
I take a big bite of my ice cream and nod. “I’m sure. Plus, I want to leave a note for my dads.”
My mates watch me as I finish the last few bites of my ice cream and rise from the couch. The bond is a riot of conflicting emotions. Worry, angeron my behalf, sour concern. They don’t like the idea of my leaving them, and I get it, but I’ll be in and out as quick as I can. It shouldn’t take me more than an hour or two, and then I’ll be back here with my mates. At my new home. Warmth rushes through me at the thought, and my mates respond through the bond, their happiness wrapping around mine in a bundle of heat.
Sawyer stands, pulling me into a hug and marking me with his scent. “I know you’re strong and capable, baby, but call if you need us, okay?”
“Okay.” Grinning, I brush a featherlight kiss over his lips. Then I grab my purse, dig out my keys, and open the door. “Be home soon. Do wait up.”
There’s a lightness to my steps I’ve never felt as I make my way to the car, then again as I unlock the door to my parents’ house. This is the beginning of the rest of my life, and I have never been happier. The bond tingles with awareness. We’re so far away, I can’t get a good read on what they’re thinking or feeling, but the connection tethers me to my newfound happiness. This is really happening. Finally, someone loves me for who I am. Burrowing my nose in the hoodie I stole—rather, borrowed—from Liam, I make a mental list of the things I need to pack.
I want to keep everything I brought home from London, and I’ll need to pack all of my work clothes. I don’t own a ton of makeup, but what I do have is expensive. Then there’s the stuffed bunny Sawyer won for me at a carnival when I was eight, and a few albums full of photos mostly of me and Henry. There’s no way I’m leaving those behind.
Light as a feather, I float up the steps to my room.
“Olivia!Wherehave you been?”
My mother’s sharp tone slices through the stillness of the house, reverberating through the foyer, and stopping me dead in my tracks. My stomach drops and fills with acid. Of course, she’d be home. The universe mustreally hate me.
Fight and flight are often spoken about as if they’re the only two physiological stress responses when confronted with a perceived threat. But actually, there are four. The other two are fawning and freezing.
I’m not going to get into a physical altercation with my mother, and running will do no good. I still need to pack my things. So I freeze. And then I fawn.
“Oh, hi. You look nice. Shouldn’t you be out with your friends right now?”
My mother scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping a heel-clad toe on the floor. “Yes, well, I’m running late, and it’s a good thing too. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve been gone most of the week. This is not a hotel, Olivia. This is a home, and I expect you to do more than simply sleep here.”
