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Once upstairs, I knock on her door quietly in case she’s still asleep. But Riley’s sweet voice calls out, “Come in!”
My cock is hard before I’ve even twisted the handle.
I open the door and stroll in to find her curled up in a nest of her own making. It makes something sing inside me because it feels so right. My girl, in her nest. My chest tightens remembering that Thane may not be able to accept her to bond. I’m not the praying type, but when she smiles up from a notebook she has in her hand, I pray to whatever gods will listen that he changes his mind.
“What’s up, Fox?”
“May I?” I ask, gesturing to the nest. She nods happily, as if me noticing her nest was the best thing I could do. I toe off my shoes and climb in, sighing as my tired muscles relax against the softness of the blanket pile. Hell, maybe I need to make my own nest after working out. Maybe it could be a whole thing—athletes with nests. It’s cozy. Nice.
“What are you working on?” I ask, curling my body toward her, trying not to dry hump her leg.Be cool, Fox.
She doesn’t fight me, instead, she lays her head on my shoulder, the tiniest amount of contact racing through me like I’ve touched a livewire. She hands me the notebook and I swallow, gritting my teeth to gain control. Sweat beading at my hairline.
“I’ve been working on this book, but something isn’t right.” She points to a page that has words all over it in circles connected by lines. “I like to make a web map when that happens to see where the issue is, but I’ve just been staring for the past ten minutes. What do you think?”
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
I push the notebook back at her. “I’m sure it’s fine.”
“You didn’t even look at it,” she says, sounding slightly offended.
“I didn’t have to. You’re a genius, I already know it’s amazing.”
“That’s really sweet, Fox,” she says. “But maybe you could just take a look?”
“Riley,” I finally grit out, and I realize my heart is thudding crazy fast, like I just ran a marathon. “Ican’t.”
She tilts her head up to look at me, and I meet her eyes, expecting confusion or even pity. Instead, she is looking at me like she always does, like she enjoys being around me. Like she knows what the problem is and understands without even an ounce of judgment. “Are you okay telling me why not?”
I swallow back a lump forming in my throat. She isn’t asking me why I can’t read, she’s asking me if I’m okay telling her why. She’s asking about my feelings first. I… I don’t know what to say to that.
“The words don’t stay put,” I blurt out. “On the page. The letters, like, dance around when I look at them.”
“Ah.” She nods, as if her suspicions are confirmed. “That’s okay, I can read them aloud.”
“That’s… that’s it?” I pull back from her, sitting up.
Riley sits up too, staring at me. “Do you want something else?”
Where was the teasing? The look of pity? The immediate dismissal of the thing and abrupt change in subject?
“Well, no, but…” I rub the back of my neck. “You’re just accepting it.”
She looks hurt. “Why wouldn’t I? You think I would blame you for something that isn’t your fault?”
“Others have,” I mumble, and she stills. Then, she leans forward and gives me the sweetest kiss, lingering for a moment before pulling back with a shy smile. I fist my hands in her sheets, damn near tearing them as my insides twist.
“My cousin has dyslexia,” she says. “Because of her, I learned all sorts of different ways that people can receive information and learn. Reading is just one of them.”
“Tell that to my parents,” I say, sinking back into the comfort of the nest. Like it’s instinctual, Riley snuggles into my arms, tucking her head under my chin. I rub her back, stroking her spine back and forth. The intense need of a moment ago sated by something else. An unexpected feeling that brings with it a measure of peace.
“Everything I did wasn’t good enough for them. They wanted me to be the best at everything, not just football. I should have brought home straight-A report cards, but instead, they saw Cs and Ds and the occasional F. God, the lectures they would give me. I should focus, I should work harder. They refused to see that I was working as hard as I could. And even when I made it in professional football, even when I was the best atsomething, it still wasn’t enough.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” she says, placing her hand on my chest. “You just tell me when I need to do things differently for you, and I will. I promise.”
“How will you do that?” I ask, picking up the notebook from where it lies at Riley’s side.
She pokes me in the belly. “I’ve got a voice and fingers, don’t I?” She does jazz hands for a moment before taking the notebook from me. She holds it in a way that we can both see the page, and then points to the top bubble. “The main character, Lexy, is an Omega who has been living on the streets since she was a teenager. She’s a skilled pickpocket, but when she steals from Jamie—an Alpha and CEO of an investment banking firm—he catches her. He gives her a choice. She can either be turned in to the cops or go home with him.”
