Page 64 of Perfectly Naïve
“They don’t?—”
“Anyone with eyes can see they adore you, Liv.” She draws me toward the cabinet that holds the silverware. “Do you feel safe?”
“Yes.” There’s no question about that. This pack makes me feel more than safe. They make me feel cherished. Special.Loved. But it’s too soon for love. Logically speaking. Still, my gaze strays to the guys, who are helping set out the glasses and filling them up with wine. They work with Theodore like they’ve been coming here for years.
As if they belong.
I tuck my bottom lip between my teeth, hear Emeline laugh under her breath, and shoot my gaze back to meet hers.
“Yeah. That look? You’re falling, pretty girl.”
“But neuroscience?—”
“Doesn’t know everything. Don’t you have outliers in your own research?”
I pause, mind reeling. There are always outliers. Things that deviate from the expectations. “You think we’re outliers?”
“I think,” she says, handing me a stack of forks, “that you know what’s in your heart, but that big brain of yours is getting in the way.”
“I like my brain.”
She nods. “I do, too, but logic isn’t always right when it comes to love.” Her hand pauses on the edge of the cutlery tray. She sucks in a breath and lifts the tray, snatching a yellow sticky note with writing on it.
“What’s that?”
She swallows, her eyes zipping back and forth, reading the note over and over. “Trevor would leave these around the house for me to find.” Her voice cracks, eyes filling with tears.
I glance at the note.
My beautiful omega. Your smile brightens every room.
A choked sound slips out of Emeline. Tears track down her cheeks, and I ignore the clenching in my chest and wrap her in my arms. She doesn’t hug me back. Her arms simply hang at her sides. My grief is nothing compared to hers. Every omega's nightmare is to lose a member of her pack.
I pull back. “Are you okay?”
Her watery eyes meet mine, anger shimmering beneath the sorrow. “Fine.” She crumples the note in her hand and tosses it onto the counter before grabbing her handful of cutlery and heading to the table. By the time she gets there, she’s pulled herself together, as if nothing happened at all.
“She’ll be okay,” Nigel says. He’s standing with a dish of the pasta he prepared, watching his omega. “Some days are better than others.”
“Has she exhibited any fitsof rage?”
“Don’t start,” Nigel murmurs.
“Two out of ten omegas who lose a pack member?—”
He glares at me. “Olivia. Stop.”
I rear back, snap my mouth closed, and nod. “I’m sorry.”
Sighing, he softens his features. “It’s okay. But I promise, Emeline is fine.”
Not wanting to press, I simply smile and change the subject. “What else can I help you with?”
“There’s a salad in the fridge.”
“I’ll grab it,” Theodore jumps in.
Nigel gives him a grateful look. “Then all that’s left for you to do is sit down.” He tips his head toward the table.
