“Fuck me.” He flops back, raking a hand over his face. When his fingers brush his throat, he flinches and groans. “I forgot about Pitt. Is this…?”
“A calming bite, not a claiming one. You were panicking, so his instincts told him to settle you down.” I lean closer, drawing his hand from his face. “Is that how you remember it?”
“Yeah, I mean, not clearly, but that’s basically it. I got sick and bolted from the motel. He tackled me, told me to calm down, but I was out of my head. I could smell myself, smellhim, and I didn’t know what to do.”
I make a note on his chart, relieved that their stories match and Wings wasn’t put through a worse ordeal. Not every alpha has the ability to resist a new omega, especially when they’re running. Instincts press hard to chase, and I feel a grudging flash of respect for Pitt. “He’s a good friend of yours?”
“Yeah, although he’s closest to Ark. He invited him to patch in about a year ago. Like I said, he’s been bringing in new blood for some time, even before Booker got sick.”
“Well, I’m just glad he got you here safely.”
He nods, but as I step away, he grabs my hand. “Can I go home? To your place, I mean.”
The fact that he has to clarify that makes me sad. “That’s one of the things we need to discuss. For the next few days, it’s important you’re in a safe environment as your body adjusts.”
“That’s your place,” he insists. “I don’t want to stay here, and I don’t want to go to the club.” He pauses, uncertain. “Or is that a problem? If you’re having second thoughts…”
“About you?” I slide on the bed next to him and lean forward to stroke his cheek. His scent rises around me, sweet like chocolate warmed in a pan. “Nothing’s changed for me, Wings. I’m still as obsessed with you as I was yesterday.” Even thoughhis biology will now demand things of him that I’ll struggle to satisfy. But that’s a problem for another day. “Rest now, and once you’ve finished the drip, I’ll see if I can transfer you home.”
He’s still watching me with that hint of doubt in his eyes, so I brush my lips over his, trying to put all my love and devotion into the gentle kiss. “Ourhome, Wings. And if I didn’t make that clear before, I’m sorry. Where you are, I am, and that’s never going to change.”
Chapter Three: WINGS
It turns out that Pitt is waiting for me somewhere in the hospital, and when I’m ready to check out, Abbie brings him to my room. She sticks close to my side as he walks over to my bed, his hands shoved in his pockets and a rueful look on his face. He’s a little taller than me, but has a lot more muscle, and even when he’s looking downcast, it’s clear he’s as dominant as an alpha can be. Which means I can’t really blame him for chasing my ass down and biting me when I was out of my head on his pheromones. “Hey, brother,” he rumbles, a slight lilt in his voice from growing up in Puerto Rico. “Good to see you’re looking better.”
I nod, but it feels like someone’s jerking my strings. There’s nothing comfortable about my body right now, strung out on both my crazy hormones and the painkillers Abbie gave me during my hormonal hissy fit. “Hey, Pitt. Thanks for bringing me here, brother. And sorry about…Well, all this shit.”
He shakes his head, his gaze flitting between me and Abbie. “I fucked up by biting you. I just reacted, but I should’ve held it together until I got you here.”
“The fever would’ve probably been more advanced if you did,”Abbie counters, surprising us both. Pitt is watching her with a kind of strained fascination, and I feel jealousy curl in my gut. Not that I can blame him for being attracted to her. Abbie’s a knockout, with a delicious peach and cloves scent that sinks deep into your brain, but she’s got a wary, watchful way about her that plucks at my protective instincts. Given that Pitt is the club enforcer and a golden gloves boxing champion, I’m not surprised that he looks like he wants to wrap her in his arms and strip her out of her scrubs at the same time.
The truth is, I can smell his arousal, the same way I can smell my own sickly-sweet perfume. I grew up in a cramped clubhouse and went to war in places where soap was a rare commodity, so I have no problem with filtering scents. As a latent, I tended to lump all other alphas into a general musky category and get on with my day. But it’s a whole different deal when you’re an omega, biologically wired to hunt for alpha pheromones.
And Pitt smells like a mountain forest after a long, grueling hike. Pine needles, citrus zest, and just a hint of mint, all mixed together in a mouthwatering rush.
Jesus, middle schoolers at their first dance are less fucking awkward than I am right now.
Thankfully, Abbie gets me back on track, explaining that I’ll have a few fever spikes over the next few days, but nothing we can’t handle at home. She also makes it clear that she’s talking about her apartment and not the Iron Flyers’ clubhouse, where the reception might be unpredictable, to say the least.
Pitt nods along, but I can sense his rising anxiety, the same way I can feel Abbie’s wary calm. When she’s done, he folds his arms, looking every inch the club enforcer. “I’d like to come along, if that’s okay. Just to check the place out, make sure he can recover without any interference.”
It’s pretty obvious he means interferingalphas, since his gaze keeps flicking to the bite on my throat. Another inch, Abbie toldme, and he would’ve got my scent gland, which is something my fuzzy brain is still trying really hard not to process.
Abbie tilts her head, not insulted yet, but on the verge of getting there. “You really think I’d take Wings somewhere that wasn’t safe?”
“It’s not that.” He sighs and palms the back of his neck. “I tried to talk myself out of this conversation, but it’s not happening. I just feel really protective towards you right now, even though I know you’ve got each other’s backs.”
“We do.”
“I know. I’ve seen Wings fight, and I know he could take care of you both, if it came to that.”
“And I’m never more than a few feet away from a scalpel,” Abbie adds, giving him one of those sweet-but-deadly looks that makes my dick hard and my pulse race.
“Yeah.” He huffs out a breath and swipes his hand over his shaved head, wafting more of his scent my way. I grit my teeth so I don’t gulp it down like a junkie, and Abbie steps between us, smoothing her hand over my chest, like she knows exactly how chaotic I feel right now. And of course she does. Not only is she a kickass therapist, we’ve been reading each other’s moods since we were kids. It was the best way to navigate all the shit that goes down in a compound full of violence-prone alphas. “Can I just hang out for a little while? Just until I know you’re both okay.”
Given Abbie’s feelings about the club, I wait for her to turn him down, but she surprises me by agreeing, although she does it with a steely look in her eye. “You can check the place out and reassure yourself that he’ll be fine. But if any other Flyer turns up on my doorstep, you’re out, and I won’t let you back in again.”
Pitt frowns, his scent souring at the edges. “I’m not interested in bringing the club into this. Whatever happens, it’s just between the three of us, okay?”
