Page 93 of The Omega's Alpha
“I feel fine. When can I go home?” A small lie, but in a good cause, right?
“The doctor left instructions to keep you overnight. He’ll be by tomorrow morning to have a final look, and if he gives the okay, you’re golden.” She read something off one of the machines still attached to me, wrote it down, then quickly stripped away all the connections. “The orderly will be here in a moment to take you back up to your room.”
Quin squeezed my hand and leaned in to kiss me. A noise from the doorway caught my attention and I twisted my head until I could peer slantwise at the door while still keeping Quin’s lips locked to mine. A group of young humans, new adults that would have been in the barracks if they’d been pack, were gathered in the door, all of them dressed in the same kinds of clothes as my nurses were. They were watching us with wide eyes and repressed hilarity. One girl in particular was blushing furiously, but she never took her eyes off us. I pulled away from Quin and waved, and she blushed harder, and waved nervously back. My nurse looked up from whatever it was that held her attention at her desk and bustled toward the door. The blushing girl squeaked, then ducked out the door, dragging her friends behind her. Her voice floated back through the opening. “I told you it was him. Oh my God, he’s even better looking in person.”
The nurse stopped in the opening, then shook her head and came back inside. “Nursing students. I’m sorry. We can have you put in a wing with better security when we move you to a room.”
“You have a shifter room in a high security wing?”
“No,” she said. “But no one needs to know.”
I glanced at Quin. “I suspect we’ll be fine. I’m not that big a name.”
She raised her eyebrows at me, but all she said was, “Very well.”
Chapter Seventy-Five
Home. They were home. It had been worth every penny he’d spent on the plane tickets to fly out to California to stay with Holland that night, but still, it was good to be home.
Holland opened the car door and put a foot out as soon as they stopped in front of the building.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Quin barked, a little harsher than he’d meant to.
Holland froze and turned his head to stare at Quin over his shoulder. “I’m getting out of the car,” he said slowly, as if questioning Quin’s eyesight.
“You’re supposed to be taking it easy,” Quin reminded him, exquisitely careful of his tone this time.
Holland’s shoulders relaxed. “I think I can ride an elevator. The surgeon just said no exertion or lifting for a couple of months.” He reached back to cup Quin’s cheek in his warm palm. “I know you want to protect me, my alpha, but I can walk.”
Quin turned his face into that hand and kissed the hollow in the middle. “I know, but should you?”
“Movement is good for me. The nurses said.” An impish smile crossed Holland’s face. “But not the kind we’re used to.” He let the smile spread into a grin and traced his thumb across the seam of Quin’s lips before he slipped out of the car and into the autumn sunshine.
“You should know better by now,” Abel told him, half-turned in the front seat with his arm hanging into the back. “He doesn’t want to be looked after.”
“He just had surgery,” Quin said, and shoved open his door.
“He knows that,” Abel said, and turned front again. A clunk signaled the unlocking of the trunk. “Get your bags so I can put the car away and get back to my own stubborn omega.”
Quin snorted a reluctant laugh and got out to find Holland leaning against the back of the car with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting for him.
“You get to carry the bags,” he said, a laugh in his voice. “And I get to lie on the couch and watch you unpack.”
“Yeah, you do.” Quin leaned in and kissed him, then laughed again when Abel honked the horn and yelled, “Get a move on, you slug!”
“I better get our bags,” he said. He didn’t want to move, but out here in the sun, he could see the lines of fatigue on Holland’s face. “You head up and I’ll be right behind you with the bags.”
“All right.” Holland trailed fingers over Quin’s cheek and turned toward the front doors of the main pack building. “Make sure you bring my little bag up. There’s something I want to talk to you about, after I have a nap.”
Quin quickly grabbed the bags and followed him up to their apartment. True to his word, Holland stretched out on the couch, his movements careful, as if his back and belly were troubling him again. Quin set the bags in their bedroom and came back out to the living room. “Do you want to go to bed? I’ll go get the pups.”
“I think I’ll just doze here for a bit. I don’t want to be in bed when they get home.” Holland rolled his head to the side, black hair and white skin on the blood red of the couch like an old master’s painting.
“You’re sure?” At Holland’s nod, Quin crouched down by his head. “You want anything? A blanket, a drink, some food? When are you due for your next painkiller?”
“Two hours.” Holland shook his head. “Maybe you could get me the blanket? And if I do fall asleep, you’ll wake me up before you go for the pups?”
“You’re not coming with me. You need to rest.”
