Clearly, my inner omega is a slut, and we are not going to listen to her.
I hurry to the closet and get out my first aid kit. I use it for first aid but it started out as a tackle box that I bought for crafts–but then I realized I don’t craft often enough to need that much storage. But I am incredibly accident prone and it would work wonders for keeping bandages, tweezers, and other patching up stuff in one spot–and it glows in the dark because I am easily amused. It worked out well.
Hurrying back through my nest, I close the door behind me. I don’t mind if Iggy goes in there for snuggles, but I don't want to risk hurting her if I go into there to flop and burrow and she’s hiding. Glaring at her when I pass for her part in this. Her onlyreaction is to blink at me, and honestly, life is so crazy right now, I can’t even stay mad at her. Frustrated, yes, definitely, mad, no–speaking of frustration where is he? I know I left a big guy with alotof skin showing right here next to the couch.
A loud crash comes from the kitchen and a colorful arm pops over the bar. “Hey, do you have a panini press in here? I can’t seem to find one.” This is the strangest conversation I’ve had in a while, and since that includes talk of hippopotamus dick, I really feel that’s saying something about where my life is right now.
Still carrying my tackle box/first aid kit, I walk around the bar to find the alpha sitting on my kitchen floor going through cabinets. When was the last time I dusted under there?
Shit.
God, but he looks good…like, all right there on display. Pale skin covered in a myriad of colors, but so well defined, long and lean, my fingers are all itchy and tingly, and they really just want to reach out and touch–to bandage him up, of course. The tiny voice is trying to hijack my thoughts again, but since we already know she is a slut, we’ve got to ignore that for now. “Hi, sorry, I don’t think I own a panini press. I’m not even sure what a panini is, or how to press it, sorry.”
A shaggy strip of caramel colored hair emerges out of the cabinet and over the countertop, hazel eyes crinkled at the corners in what I think is a smile, but could be plotting my demise for my lack of panini knowledge. I’m terrible at reading people. “Sorry, but, I got the first aid kit, if you can stand up and comeback over to the couch, I can get your elbows patched up, sorry. Is that ok?”
Wait, how many sorries was that? Do I apologize habitually, or am I just stressed out?
Ok, stupid question, of course I’m stressed. But, yeah, I should probably stop apologizing. I sound like a broken record.
He unfolds himself from my kitchen floor and I have to tilt my head back to watch his face. Okay, yes that is definitely a smile, but he still might be plotting vengeance over the panini thing.
“Sorry, Little Lion.” He walks towards me, all sinuous grace, brushing his hand down my back when he circles behind me before sitting down on the couch. That should not feel as good as it does, and I have to shake myself before sitting down and focusing on his arms.
The blood has mostly stopped, but I still want to make sure there are no little chunks of road stuck in there, so I hold a clean towel up and upend the bottle of hydrogen peroxide over his elbow. I would be hissing and whining about it by now, but he is just staring at me with a goofy grin. It’s starting to make me nervous. I wait for the bubbling to stop, smear him with ointment, and dig out one of my big bandages to put over the area.
Maybe he senses my confusion, maybe he just wants to talk…I like the sound of his voice regardless, it just makes me feel…right, somehow. He mentions something about last night, and a lasagna, and cookies. But I’m having a hard time focusing.The last 24 hours have been crazy and stressful, and I should be freaking out with him so close, and my mind is. Sort of. But my body seems to think that all is right with the world, and that in itself is concerning.
Standing up, I cross to his other side to repeat the process, he leans towards me still talking, and nuzzling his face into my hair as soon as I sit down.
Kind of freaky, but I can’t say I don’t feel the same, he smells like cinnamon and coffee. I had a hell of a time earlier fighting myself to get out of his lap when he wrapped me up. Except even then, his scent was muffled by all the blankets.
Why does he smell so good?
This side is not bleeding at all, but the skin is pretty scraped up. Once it’s clean and bandaged he pulls me into his lap and starts purring again. I haven't heard an alpha purr since grandpa died, he used to do it when I was little. When he would tell me about grandma and stories of when mom was little. As I got older he would do it less often, usually only if I got hurt, and then just for a few minutes.
It’s taking everything in me not to just close my eyes and fall asleep right now. Which is bat shit crazy, because I still don’t know anything about this guy, or why the hell he’s in my house. I guess it is good timing that there is a loud knock, and then another strange alpha walks in, followed by Dr. Leo and Gabe.
Chapter 11
Iam so fuckin’ sore right now. The first time I went down I landed on my phone, with my hand wrapped around it, so at least the phone was ok. But neither my thigh nor my hand are really happy with the situation. Then when I rolled over, I landed on her can of mace, that is definitely gonna leave a bruise–on my ass. Yeah, gonna have a fun time sitting at work the rest of this week.
Fucking hell.
I’m finally able to stand up, and work on brushing all the grass off. It has been a long fuckin’ day already and now I gotta deal with this shitshow before I can finish work.
“Leo, Xan, gimme a hand here, I think I broke my ass.” As expected, Xan lets out a loud bark of laughter, but then he comes ambling over to gimme a hand up off the ground. Leo starts brushing off my shoulders and back as I try to steady myself around my throbbing hand and aching ass. But I can’thelp the loud grunt when he smacks against my bruised butt trying to dust me off.
“What the actual fuck man, when were you gonna tell us you found our omega?” Xan whisper shouts at both Leo and myself.
“To be fair, I don’t think either of us was aware of Ms. Manning's designation until today, or even aware of Ms. Manning at all until yesterday.” Leo replies.
“If you say so, but I don’t know how you could have missed that. Hell, it took Jacks less than a minute to sniff her out, and he was farther away than either of us. Speaking of…” Xan trails off, as we all look towards the house. Worry pinching Leo’s brows as we wonder what exactly our least stable packmate is doing in there.
Yeah, that is a concern. Normally Jacks wouldn’t hurt a fly, but his reaction surprised me, he never likes strangers, and omegas tend to make him extra nervous. We better get in there and check on them both.
“I gotta warn y'all, I damned near lost it from her perfume when she just opened the door earlier. I don’t know what it is about her, but fuck, we are probably gonna have a hell of a time gettin’ Jacks out of there without scaring the bejesus outta her.” Leo and Xan nod, looking thoughtful. I don’t think they understand yet just how much her scent affected me.
Then again, judging by the front of Leo’s scrubs, maybe he does.
