Page 93 of Feeling the Heat: Part Two
“Oh!” Astrid blinks at me, processing that information for a split-second before taking a five out of her purse and setting it on the table for the trouble of seating us, then stands up.
I’m too relieved by her willing accommodation of my needs to pretend to protest, so I follow, gulping down the fresh air as soon as we’re outside.
“Thank you,” I sigh, wiping the sweat off my brow.
“The suppressants still not working?” Astrid asks gently. She knows how frustrated I am about the lack of control I seem to have over my omega hormones despite all our modern medical advancements.
“Not at all. That's why I’m a sweaty, overstimulated mess right now. Ambrose said it’ll start in a week. Maybe sooner. Given how shitty I feel today, I’m thinking sooner.”
Astrid reminds me why I love her when she doesn’t protest that we could’ve cancelled our lunch, giving me another hug and nodding. “Damn. Do you think you’re ready for it?”
She’s really asking if I’m ready for what going through myheat with all three of the men courting me means. Even a beta like her recognizes that a heat with a pack courting you—a pack that I’ve moved in with is much more serious than using heat services.
If she’d asked a few weeks ago, my answer would’ve been no. Or at least it would’ve taken me a lot of internal struggle between my omega’s instincts and my rational brain to be okay with it. Now, I realize there’s no question.
“Yeah. I am.”
Astrid’s eyes go wide. If she were a cartoon character, she’d have giant hearts in them. “You are?”
I snort, but a soft flush rises on my cheeks. “Yeah.”
“That’s fucking amazing!” Her exclamation garners some sidelong glances from passersby on the sidewalk, but it’s hard to care when she’s hugging me and squealing in delight. “I’m so, so, so happy for you.” When she pulls back, there are tears in her eyes.
My lower lip wobbles, and I shake my head at her. “No, stop it. If you cry, I’ll turn into a blubbering mess.”
Astrid sniffles, then huffs as she wipes away the water from her eyes. “How can you tell me not to cry when my best friend is finally getting the love and appreciation she deserves?”
My throat tightens and my eyes fill. “Dammit.”
Astrid pulls me into a hug again, and we both lose it, blubbering in the middle of the sidewalk until my phone starts to ring.
I pull back and swipe at my tear-streaked face, pulling my phone out of my purse to see who it is. The name on the screen has me sobering.
“It’s Megan.”
Astrid sniffs, wiping at her nose. “Whoa, really? But she never calls you.”
She doesn’t. My sister hasn’t called me since the last time Itried to help her and she called me a jealous, hateful bitch. Seeing her at Nesting a few months ago was the first time I’d heard her voice in over a year.
“I…I have to take this.”
“Yeah, of course.” Astrid reaches out and squeezes my hand as I bring the phone to my ear.
“Megan?”
“C-Cami?” I can barely hear her shaky whisper.
My blood runs cold with dread. “What’s wrong?”
“I-I can’t stay here anymore. You w-were r-right.” There’s a muffled sob from the other end of the line that shatters my heart.
I don’t think before I reply. What is there to consider?
“It’s okay. I’m coming to get you. Tell me where you are.”
Megan sucks in a shaky inhale. “I c-can’t…He’ll get m-mad and…” More broken sounds of distress fill my ear.
Fuck. I should’ve never left her with that man. I should’ve fought harder. I should’ve taken her when I saw her at Nesting and held her hostage until her brain cleared from all the bullshit brainwashing he did to her. I should’ve stopped her before she even got involved with that monster. I’m a horrible sister. I abandoned her.
