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“I think he’ll be alright, but I’m going to get him into bed.” I step forward, but Reese grabs my arm.
“Let me do it,” he says.
I snort at him, pulling my arm away. “You punched him in the face yesterday. Maybe you’re not the best person to care for him right now.”
“He’s heavy.”
“I’m strong. If I need help, I’ll ask for it. But I think you’re better off taking a back seat here.”
Asking an alpha to take a backseat is asking him to go against everything in his gut, and I know it. I watch to see what he’ll do, interested to see what kind of alpha he truly is. Most of the ones I’ve met will steamroll over anyone who gets between them and what they think needs to be done.
But Reese just stands there, his brow creased, looking back and forth between me and Arlo. I can tell that his alpha instincts are howling. Arlo makes another sound of distress, and Reese inhales sharply, as if it pains him, too. But instead of barreling forward, he clenches his jaw and steps to the side, letting me take the lead.
“I’m here if you need me,” he says hoarsely, his eyes on Arlo.
I wonder if, perhaps, the two of them had stronger feelings for each other in their youth than either is willing to recognize.
Arlo shudders, doubling over in his chair, and I tsk to myself. Now is not the time to consider ancient history.
I step forward and lean down, wrapping Arlo’s arm around my shoulders and helping him to his feet. He weighs approximately one million pounds, but I hold myself upright, especially while Reese is watching. We make our way to Arlo’s room, and I help him into bed before pulling off his boots and setting them by the doorway.
I turn to see Reese lingering in the hall, watching me with hooded eyes. “Haven…” he starts. But he doesn’t seem to know what to say.
“I got it,” I tell him. “Do me a favor and keep the cameras busy. Maybe… maybe do a workout or something. We can’t all be off-camera the whole night, you know?”
Reese glances back at the living room, and gives me a nod. He turns back into the living room, giving me a view of his very muscular back. My body reacts instantly to the sight of those tattooed shoulders, mostly Celtic symbols and designs that roll over his shoulders in waves. He moves his arms from side to side as if ready to get to work out.
An alpha with a mission: it’s a shame I have to miss the show.
I close the door softly, and turn to find Arlo sitting on the side of his bed, clutching his stomach. He looks up at me with a haunted expression.
“What’s going on?” I ask him.
“Heat spike,” Arlo gasps. “I need… I need…”
“Drugs? Do you have something that could help?”
Arlo shakes his head. “Someone needs to bring them.” He gets to his feet, shoves his hand in his pocket, and pulls out his phone. A cramp hits him, and he staggers forward with a groan. I grab hold of him, letting him wrap his arms around my shoulders.
“Can you text Sean?” he asks, “tell him to bring the stuff here?”
“Of course,” I say. I lower him back down onto the bed and turn to look at his phone. I run through his texts and find “Sean” in his contacts. I drop him a quick text with the address, telling him I’ll meet him at the back door so I can take the stuff from him.
“Ok. Text sent.” I turn to hand him back his phone, and he stands up to take it from me. Our fingers brush against each other, and he groans.
“Fuck, Haven, you need to leave this room before I do something… something I shouldn’t.” He walks across the room and pulls open the top drawer of his bureau. When he turns around, there’s a wad of cash in his hand. “Take this, and give it to Sean, ok? But you have to get out of here before I do something we'll both regret.”
I take the cash and stuff it into my bra, but I don’t move toward the door. “You need release, Arlo.”
He shudders, shaking his head. “Haven, no, we shouldn’t…”
I press a finger to his lips. “You’re forgetting that I know what this is like,” I say softly.
His pupils are blown, his lips parted as he pants at me. “You’re so close, and you smell so good. Fuck, Haven, how can you smell so good?”
I smile at him and run my hand down over his chest toward his waist. “You smell good too. Is this ok?”
“Yes,” Arlo breathes, his eyelids sliding shut. “Fuck, yes, that’s ok.”
