Page 39 of Feeling the Heat: Part One
Shit, what time is it? I glance over at the clock on my nightstand and see it’s after 11. I can’t believe I slept in so late.
When Astrid brought me home from the heat clinic last night, she made me promise to call her in the morning and check in. She wanted to stay the night with me, but that seemed ridiculous. The nurse who discharged me said I should be fine on my own as long as I avoid any strenuous activities for the next few days.
I grab my phone and unlock the screen, only to find a dozen missed calls and texts from my best friend. The latest says she’s coming over to check on me.
Crap. I force myself to sit up, my body screaming at me in protest. It feels like I got hit by a bus.
Yeah, I don’t think avoiding physical activity will be a problem at all. I’m too weak to do much of anything.
Flopping back down on the bed with a pathetic groan, I hit the call button next to Astrid’s name, then hold the phone up to my face.
“Cami? Are you okay?!” Astrid’s panicked tone as she answers fills me with guilt.
“I’m fine,” I croak, not sounding very convincing. I clear my throat and try again. “I’m okay. My alarm didn’t go off, so I just woke up.”
“God, you scared me. I was about to try conning your creepy neighbor into letting me into the building by saying I had a special delivery for him.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I’d be so wiped out after…”
“Getting banged for days on end?” Astrid finishes for me, a teasing lilt to her voice.
A flash of heat floods my system even though I don’t remember much from the past five days.
That’s right. It tookfivedaysfor my heat to end. I didn’t believe it when the nurse told me what day it was. All I remember is the start of things, and random moments that blur together into a timeless fever dream.
“Don’t remind me,” I say with an exaggerated groan.
Astrid laughs. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”
“It was… weird. I really hope it doesn’t happen often because I’m way too old for this shit.”
They said once the fatigue fades and my body has time to replenish its energy stores, I’ll probably recall more details. But if what I was dreaming about before I woke up is any indication of what actually happened, then I’m pretty fucking glad my memory is spotty. Even thinking about that dream makes me flush with embarrassment.
Astrid makes a thoughtful hum. “I guess there’s a reason most omegas reveal when they’re young. More energy to fuck like bunnies.”
“Yep.” I wince at the reminder that I’m an omega.
There was a moment during my heat where I felt connected to my newly awakened omega, but in the aftermath, I can barely stand to think about her.
The bitch took a wrecking ball to my perfectly decent life, and now I have to figure out how to put things back together, even though I’m more drained than I’ve been in my entire life.
“I know you’re tired, but can you manage to get up for a minute to buzz me in? I brought waffles from that cute brunch place.”
The mention of food has my stomach letting out an angry growl. Shit, I’m starving.
“Sure, give me a sec.” I hang up the phone and force myself up out of bed, letting out a series of pathetic groans in the process. My sleep shirt is soaked with sweat, but I don’t want to make Astrid wait outside longer, or worry I passed out and hit my head attempting to let her into my apartment building, so I wrap a robe around my feeble, clammy body and shuffle to my front door.
I’m ready to go back to bed by the time I make it to the intercom to buzz her inside, but manage to stay on my feet until she knocks on my door.
“Whoa.” Astrid’s eyes go wide when she sees me.
“I look that good?” I ask with a weak laugh that makes my abs hurt. I smooth a hand over my hair, grimacing when I feel how much of a tangled mess it is. I should’ve washed it and detangled last night when I got home, but I barely had enough energy to take a quick shower before I crashed.
“You look…fucked,” she says with a cheeky grin.
I snort, then clutch at my stomach. “Ow, don’t make me laugh.”
She cracks a few more jokes as she sets up breakfast on my tiny dining table, and starts a pot of coffee, deftly moving around the kitchen like she owns the place. I appreciate that Astrid has no qualms rummaging around in my stuff because I don’t have the energy to help her.
