A belch escapes my lips before I take another swig of lemonade. "I know, right? Ugh. And it's ineveryfrigging nesting store. Apart from Ruby's of course."
We're lying on the carpeted Annex floor, watchingHeat Helperson a TV that wouldn't even get through the front door of my apartment, with roast chicken and thick-cut hot chips, which are almost as good as the ones Aunty Di used to get us from the chip shop around the corner from where we grew up, spread out on greasy paper in front of us. It's almost enough to distract me from the tight tugging in my chest.
The scene shifts from the nesting phase to the preview of the next episode—the first heat spike.
The alphas on the screen are naked, with a black box censoring the essential bits. They are all chiselled gods. "I mean… I know it's nottechnicallyporn, but… fuuuuck," Loz murmurs. "Now I get why you wanted aHeat Helpersmarathon."
I nod enthusiastically, grabbing another handful of lukewarm chips, and tap on more chicken salt. "And it's not, like, anywhere near as gross as you expect, right? Like, I read an interview with their pack once, and Zander—"
"Which one's that?"
I point at a wall of dark muscle on the screen. "Him. You were calling him Sir Pecs-a-lot—"
"Oh. Right. Carry on."
"Yeah. Anyway, Zander was saying they started this as a project to, like, demythologize heats—"
She snorts. "Yep. Our biological needs to avoid severe pain and hospitalization and a medically induced coma. Not just for porn!"
I throw a chip at her.
"You know what I mean. Betas who aren't in packs didn't really have any other source of information until they started this—"
"Uh, you mean apart from health class at school—stopwasting chicken salt! It takes a month for Aunty Karen to send more over here!"
I cackle when the next chip I throw at her lands in her cleavage. She fishes it out and eats it, shrugging.
"Anyway," I glare pointedly at her, "he said they also wanted to normalise omegas in the workforce and that heat support wasn't only for those under thirty or a size two—"
She rolls her eyes at me, and wipes her hands on her pants as she stands. "We need ice-cream, babes."
"—and they always give the omegas the final edit!" I call out after her.
She snorts from the kitchen.
"Fuck," she mutters from the other room as the freezer door opens and spoons clink against bowls, "must be nice to set your own heat narrative like that." There's a pause as the freezer door slams shut. "Y'know, babes, the way you're talking about this, is just the way I'd expect the managing director of the foremost fucking heat support research charity to talk—"
"Loz. Not now. Seriously." My tone is flat.
She huffs. I can practically hear her rolling her eyes. "Just saying, babes." She stalks back into the room, plonks a bowl and spoon in front of me and drops a square tub each ofNeapolitan and rainbow ice-cream on the floor in front of us. I gape.
"Where did you find those?" Our childhood favourite ice-creams areimpossibleto find over here.
She shrugs and folds herself down next to me. "Had 'em shipped in a few months ago."
I push myself up and lean my arm around her. "You, Loz, are a frigging classy lady."
Her snort is almost loud enough to rattle the windows. "Damn right. Finish your chicken and chips first. And put the next episode on, I wanna see if Lord Hip Flexors gets the first knot in, or whether Bicep Boy or Master Bater sneak in under the radar."
I laugh and skip the credits. The screen snaps over to the next episode. The omega on the screen, a chubby Asian woman in her early forties, is curled up asleep in the arms of Miles, who Loz has dubbed Lord Hip Flexor, while Leo, their beta and main interviewer, and Russell, the youngest alpha, tidy the nest. Leo is clad in a pair of tight boxer briefs. Russell appears to be naked under the black censorship box, his tanned muscles glistening with sweat.
Nate, the quietest of the alphas, wanders across the screen, his dark blond hair mussed, his brow furrowed.
"Master Bater's obviously pissed he missed the cuddle cut." Loz's spoon clinks quietly as she digs around in her ice-cream bowl.
I sigh. They've never shown footage of any of the alphas doing…that. Or any of the omegas masturbating either, for that matter. "He's the only Aussie. Why'd you call him that?"
Loz shrugs. "Ex-cop. Seems fitting."
