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I dig my nails into my palms.
“I… I don’t know.” I can’t deny him outright, even though I should. Aside from Thane’s cold welcome, they’ve been nothing but nice to me, and I can’t throw that back in his face with a sharp denial. I’ll have to let them down easy when the time comes.
Miles nods, his expression remaining neutral. “It’s okay. Take your time; it’s a big decision. However, since you’ll be in such close proximity with us for the indeterminable future, Thane’s right about the heat suppressants. You should probably use your scent blocking soap, too.”
He scrunches his mouth in thought. “Although, Thane might be able to get you some of the regulated heat suppressants. I bet it’d work better and you wouldn’t have to take as many. And he may be able to get some of that really good scent blocking soap, the kind they use at the hospital for Omega patients. I know it’s not exactly gentle on the skin, but it works the best.”
I frown. “How does he have access to that?”
“Thane works at the hospital. He’s an endocrinologist and works with hormone regulation and suppression, that kind of thing. If you do want to go that route, we’ll have to set up an appointment for you. That way they can do all the kinds of testing they need to in order to get your suppressant dosage right based on your levels.”
I shake my head, a flash of unease shaking me to my core at the thought of doctors poking and prodding me, finding odd levels in my hormone panels that point directly to my cervus with big bold red arrows.
Nope.
No appointments, not for me. “Whatever you can get your hands on is fine. I don’t need anything special.”
“Not a fan of hospitals, I take it? No matter. I’ll see what we can do,” Miles says, but his eyes narrow on me. Does he already suspect something is wrong? No. How could he?
“Thanks.”
“You should probably start birth control as well if you aren’t on it already.”
“What?” I chirp, knocked out of my own head, my cheeks flushing.
Miles blushes, his gaze shifting away from me as he pulls at the collar of his shirt as if it’s asphyxiating him. He clears his throat. “Like I said, no one is going to touch you if you don’t want them to, but…” He trails off, and he doesn’t have to finish. It might happen. The natural instinct to mate is strong enough as it is, but if one of them goes into rut, or if I were to go into heat…
It would be all but impossible to avoid.
“Right,” I choke out. “I’ll order some from the pharmacy.”
“Great. And I’ll pick it up for you.”
Silence stretches between us for a moment before a tremor makes my fingers twitch and I press them between my thighs to hide it, trying to think of something to say to clear the air and failing miserably.
Miles jumps up from his seat.
“Hey, do you want something to eat? I know Levi wanted to cook for you, but I think he had to run out for something and Thane made breakfast this morning. There’s still some left over.”
“That was a few hours ago, wasn’t it?” I asked, looking at the clock that reads nearly eleven in the morning. “Should I just make something fresh?”
Miles grins and shakes his head. “You can try, but I doubt anything you make could ever be as good as something Thane made.”
“Is that so?” I ask with an eyebrow raised, trying and failing to picture the Greek statue of a man with the heart of stone in the kitchen, an apron tied around his trim waist, scrambling eggs.
I start to stand to get the food myself, curiosity getting the better of me, but Miles waves me away.
“Sit down. I’ll take care of you.”
My cheeks flush at the double meaning in his words and I studiously look at the veins in the marble countertop.
Miles pulls out a glass container from the fridge, removing two golden pastries from inside. He puts them in the microwave for ten seconds and then brings them to me on a plate. “I’m going to be honest, Thane calls these by some fancy French name, and I can never remember what it is. Something-somethingpommes. But they are basically apple turnovers. He’d hate that I put them in the microwave and didn’t warm them in the oven, though.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” I tease, and he laughs.
“They look amazing,” I say. The pastry is golden and flaky, with chocolate drizzled on top. I pick up the warm turnover and take a tentative bite. I moan as the flavors fill my mouth, punching me in the throat with sweet buttery apple and spicy cinnamon. “Oh, my God, this is the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my entire life.”
Miles waggles his eyebrows. “Right? Thane teases me about being a computer nerd, but by definition the man is practically a food nerd, himself. He studies recipes and techniques like he’s about to go on theGreat British Baking Show.Tomorrow, I’ll ask him to make you his French toast. You’ll never be able to eat normal French toast again.”
