Page 35 of The Coyote's Veterinarian Omega

Cal and I stared at each other for a long moment. “I’ll get some sheets,” he said at last, then disappeared down the hall.

“Y-yeah,” I agreed, then glanced at Wyatt.

“What?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Um,” I said.

Karla sighed again. Aunt Caroline grabbed the sheets from Cal when he stepped back into the room. “Wyatt,” she said, “you can take the guest room. Karla and I will move up to the master bedroom.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. It had been years since Dad had passed, and even longer since Mom had been gone, but it still hurt. We’d closed the door to that bedroom and hadn’t thought about it for ages.

“Karla,” Aunt Caroline said.

“On it,” the burly woman said, lumbering out of the room toward the guest room.

Wyatt’s head was on a swivel. “What?” he asked. “What’s going on? Why—”

“It’s just that the room hasn’t been used in a while,” Cal said. “Caroline and Karla will freshen it up, so you don’t need to worry.”

Karla stumbled by with a couple of suitcases, heading for the stairs. “Room’s all yours, Wyatt,” she said, then tromped up the staircase. Aunt Caroline followed, silent as she ascended.

Wyatt’s hazel gaze darted to me, and he opened his mouth like he wanted to say something. Instead, we ended up staring at each other for a moment, before he closed his mouth tight.

“You need some pyjamas?” Cal asked.

“This is fine,” Wyatt said, plucking at the oversized t-shirt he was wearing. I had to bite back a growl when I realized it wasone of the twins’. Something about Wyatt wearing one of my brothers’ clothes got my hackles up.

Stupid, I thought. I was being stupid. This whole thing was stupid.

“All right,” Cal said. “Good night then?”

Wyatt nodded. “Good night,” he said, then strode off in the direction of the guest bedroom.

I balled my hands into fists, letting my nails bite into my palms. I wanted nothing more than to drag Wyatt up to my room, to lock him in with me, and …

Well. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure what I wanted to do to him. Cuddle him or fuck him, one or the other. Maybe both.

Either way, it wasn’t happening; the door to the guest room closed, and I was left with Cal, who was looking at me with one of those meaningful big brother looks.

I trudged to the stairs without meeting his eyes. “I’m gonna hit the hay too,” I told him. “Good night.”

“Night,” he offered, then hollered at the twins. “Don’t stay up too late, y’hear?!”

“Shut up, Cal!”

“You’re not the boss of me!”

Cal scoffed and rolled his eyes. I almost cracked a smile. “Night, Mother Hen,” I told him.

He snorted at me, then swatted my hand. “Don’t make me nag you too,” he said as he started up the stairs.

“I don’t think you’d be happy without someone to nag,” I retorted, jogging up after him.

“You’d be surprised,” he muttered. “Night.”

“Night,” I replied for what felt like the tenth time, then slipped into the quiet of my room, closing the door behind me.

Wyatt