Page 62 of Gold Rush
My heart flips as I watch him linger in the doorway. “Thank you.”
Bennett nods toward the bed. “Get back into bed, both of you.”
As he leaves, Seth wraps his arms arm me tighter, crab-walking us back to the bed and dragging me down to the sheets with him. I laugh, turning into him as his hands wander, grabbing handfuls of my hips, my ass, my arms, kissing me again and chasing away the flushed feeling on my skin.
Everything feels better when he’s touching me.
I lingerin Seth and Bennett’s bedroom until sometime mid-afternoon.
Bennett brings pancakes up, with a spread of different toppings. Them feeding me turns into lingering kisses that dip lower and lower. Even both of their focus on me can’t ease the flushed, tight feeling in my skin. It’s like a bad flu, symptoms layering on top of each other, making me feel feverish, hazy and out of it. I don’t like feeling out of control, and this makes me feel like a walking zombie.
I finally beg off to go take a shower, loathe to wash off their combined smells but feeling the urge to be clean. My muscles relax under the warm water, and I avoid the scent-cancelling products and instead use the other, lightly scented ones Seth grabbed for me among the nesting supplies. They’re made to retain the scents my biology needs in the middle of a heat.
My mind wanders as I scrub my hair — I could get used to this. Last night wasn’t what I expected, but I feel an undeniable safety when I’m between them.
I get out, rifling through my clothes and tugging on a pair of leggings and an oversized t-shirt I find on my bed. When I tug it over my head, I turn my nose into the collar, inhaling Seth’s light scent on the fabric, undercut with the smell of laundry detergent and a mixture of orange and rain. It’s almost comically big on me, flowing over my chest, which means it probably swallows the beta whole.
Still, I love it. It’s the best present I’ve ever been given.
I should move things upstairs.
Taking another hit of the scent on the shirt, I stare at my few possessions, but there’s nothing that I really care to have upstairs in the nest with me. It’s all already up there — between the items Seth bought me and the clothing I stole from Seth and Bennett, I’m sure I’ll be fine.
I squint at the windows, turning away from them. Anxiety sits heavy on my chest as I think about all the symptoms and information I’ve read about in the last week and a half. Omegashave up to four heats a year, coinciding with ovulation in females. It all comes down to individual biology, and there’s no telling what kind of reaction I’ll have — it’s all up to chance, the same chance that makes omega blood golden-hued, or alphas’ silver-hued.
Grabbing my phone, I glance down at it, seeing multiple missed text messages from my mother again, ranging in the severity of insults, from pleas for me to respond, to nasty insinuations. My stomach roils and I drop the device back to the bed, leaving it as I turn away from the room and head downstairs, chewing on my lower lip.
Will I be begging? Will I even know what I’m asking for?
I walk down the hall, hesitating in front of Arin’s shut office door, steeling myself to tell him that it’s near — that the conversation has to be hadnow. It would be best to be open about it, let him know that Bennett and Seth will be helping me. It’s easier that way.
Opening my mouth, I shove the door, and then stop short, staring at the empty room.
For once, the prime isn’t in his office.
I blink, looking back and forth down the hallway before backing up to the foyer. I turn down the hall behind the stairs — where he emerged last night — and push open the first door I see. A garage greets me, two sleek cars side by side in it, with a key hook on the wall. Pulling the door shut, I turn to the other side, finding the laundry room.
The smell of rainwater hits me the second the door swings open, making me feel dizzy all over again as I step back and tug it shut. Of course — all my clothes have had that same smell —Theohas been doing my laundry since I got here. It’s why he’s on a little bit of everything, from the blankets in the living room down to Seth’s clothes.
I focus on the end of the hallway, heading toward the last door. As I linger outside, I hear running water and push it open, stepping into a bedroom bigger than Seth and Bennett’s — almost the same size as the nest two stories above.
The bed is huge. Windows encompass the far wall, looking out to a backyard I didn’t even know the townhouse had. It’s pretty, and private, with lush grasses and multi-colored flowers. There are even pavers and a small table, though the drizzle of London rain has everything dripping in a fine mist.
Eyeing the bed, I inhale the deep-seated smell of mint saturating the room.
The water stops.
I take a step back just as a door on the far wall opens. Arin walks out, a towel slung around his hips, another ruffling his wet hair.
He stops short, his eyes widening as he mutters, “June?”
My own perfume turns fragrant as I open my mouth, then close it immediately. It’s embarrassing how quickly the sight of Arin’s half-naked body fills me with incomprehensibleneedagain. I fumble for a moment, before finally turning around, just to stop myself from standing like an idiot staring at him. “I should go. I’ll find you later.”
“June —”
I grab the door handle.
“Juniper,stop.”
