Fucking Moretti.
I can’t believe I fucked up and called him by his nickname. I occasionally call him by his first name when it’s just the two of us, but I try not to give away our friendship in front of anyone else. I’m not sure if that facade will extend to Vanessa. I suppose it’ll come down to how their relationship develops.
Even if I consider him a friend, he must not feel the same about me. No way a friend sticks another friend in this position.Heshould be the one to break this news to her.
It’s not my goddamn place.
“Moretti has his own room here on the third floor,” I tell her, keeping my tone matter-of-fact. “I think this room is just for you.”
“Okay, great. Thanks, Hawk.”
I grunt, feeling like a total dick as I pull the door closed. Running away from the misery I can see written all over her face is the only option. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s betteroff here than she would be with that sick fuck Grigoryan or even being trapped at her family’s mansion, but it’s also obvious that she just traded one prison for another.
I’m half-tempted to drag my mattress in to toss on the ground in the sitting room. The couch is a foot or more too short, and it’s uncomfortable as fuck. No matter how hard I toss and turn, I can’t make a decent groove for my big ass.
The door to the bedroom portion of the suite flies open, and I roll over, sitting up to see what’s going on.
Vanessa leaves the door open, allowing light to spill out behind her as she stomps across the floor with purpose. She spots me and squeaks, planting her hands on her hips. “You can tellmy husbandthat I don’t play games, and he shouldn’t either.”
“What’s wrong?” I toss back the blanket and climb off the uncomfortable sofa.
“Do you know what psychological warfare is?” she asks, her tone shrill. “Because I do. I lived with it every day, thanks to my father, and to some degree, my brothers. This is not okay.”
“What’s not?” I take a few steps toward her, and she doesn’t back away. It’s hard to make out her face. The light from behind her does offer some illumination, but my eyes are still adjusting from the time I spent in the dark. Most of her hair seems dry, but little pieces frame her face in curly ringlets.
My nostrils flare, picking up her tart apple and cinnamon scent. It’s slightly muted, but that makes sense if she took a shower in the time I was getting changed before trying to call it a night on the sofa.
“Every single piece of clothing that woman bought for me is at least a size too small, if nottwosizes.” Vanessa turns to the side, and the light shines over her front. “And look, I get it. I’m not a size two or even a size four, but I’m an omega,goddammit. Everyone knows we’re curvy, and I’m happy with my body.”
“Whoa,” I say, raising my hands like there’s a wild dog about to pounce. “I’m sure something got lost in translation with the pictures.”
“I tried on multiple sets. This is the closest I got to finding one that fits.” Vanessa gestures to the front of the button-up pajama top. “I got one button done. The one under my tits!” Her words come out an impressive growl that would intimidate even the most hardened alpha. “Who buys shorts and T-shirt sets when it’s winter in Boston?” She raises her arms, gesturing to the empty room, and the single button gives up on holding the two sides together. It flings across the room, and Vanessa’s bare tits pop into view as the shirt hangs open. “Oh, you know what?” She rips herself out of the shirt, balls it up, and chucks it at my head. “I’m sucking in right now! I had to just to force myself into these awful pajama shorts.” She peels herself out of those too, tossing them at me. “I like things loose and comfy when I sleep!”
I drop them in a pile and tug myself out of my T-shirt with a hand at the back of my neck. “We’ll go shopping first thing tomorrow morning. Clothing definitely counts as a necessity under these circumstances. Arms up. You can sleep in my shirt.” She brings her arms up, and I pull the material down over her curvy form.
“Thank you,” she mutters, shaking her head. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I took a shower, and all I wanted to do was get dressed so I could climb into bed. I don’t have any of my things, and I’m just…”
“Don’t apologize. You’ve had a hell of a night.”
Her head tilts. “Did Moretti force you to sleep in here to watch me?”
Damn.
There goes my hope that she’d be too distracted to ask why I’m here.
“The third floor is secure, but Moretti’s personal security team lives here in the house, along with other staff.” I cross my arms over my chest, wondering if I’m even supposed to be telling her this. “You’re an omega. Even if I trust them, it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
“Yeah, I guess so, especially since my husband won’t be sleeping with me to offer his protection.” She glances between me and the open door to the primary bedroom. “Thanks again, Hawk. I promise not to screech at you tomorrow.” She twirls around, flashing me a sexy little peek of her ass as my shirt flies up. “At least, not first thing in the morning.”
I’m in hell.
I have to be.
I text Moretti a warning about what happened and stretch out on the uncomfortable couch. When I take Vanessa shopping tomorrow, I’m buying a sectional large enough to fit my big ass.
There’s no way to tell how much time has passed when I roll over, waking from a light sleep, but based on the lack of light filtering in the windows, it’s still dark outside.
I need to take a piss. Going to one of the bathrooms off the hallway is an option. Nah, I might as well use the one in her room. It’ll allow me to knock out two birds with one stone, ensuring she stayed put.
