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Leather creaks and I visualize him reclining in his office chair. Is he working late tonight? “The only one. You were going to ask me something. My answer is, anything.”
I’m still smiling when I tell him, “I was going to ask how Rune and Cian are.”
“Same as me. Missing you.”
My smile fades. I really wish he hadn’t said that.
“Everleigh?” he prompts me when I don’t respond.
My eyes prickle with tears. “Will you tell them that I miss them, too? I try to call, but it’s hard.”
Painful is what it is. A constant reminder I’m not with them and I want to be.
“I can,” he admits quietly.
I don’t hang up even though I should have minutes ago. If anything, my hand tightens around the cell phone because I’m not ready to let go of it yet. Or let go of Kylian, Cian, or Rune. Maybe I never will.
“Is Rune still cooking?” It’s important that he is. Drawing is the thing that makes me the happiest. I think cooking is for him too, even if he let himself forget it for a little while.
“He is. Though nothing has come close to matching that garbage he forced on us.” Kylian smiles.
“I wish—” I stop because I shouldn’t be saying any of this.
Kylian sighs. “We know. None of us is going anywhere, Everleigh. Take care of yourself and take care of your mom. We’ll be here when you need us.”
“You mean when it’s my heat?” It’s not what he means. I’m not sure why I ask it. Maybe I want a reason to get angry or make him angry, so I won’t want to cry.
“You’re more than an omega, Everleigh. You know it and so do I.” There’s no anger in his voice. Just disappointment.
I know. They call me little omega, but right from the start, they treated me as if I was just… me. Not a thing to own, control, or mold into whatever they wanted.
Me. Or the Everleigh I’d been before Lawrence got his hands on me.
“I know, I’m sorry,” I say.
“No apologies needed.”
“Good night, Kylian,” I say softly.
“Good night, beautiful.”
I force myself to hang up and put my phone on the bedside table or I’ll be clutching it all night.
I’m not sure what compels me to roll over and pick up the phone again, pressing number one.
Kylian answers on the first ring. “Everleigh?”
“Your T-shirt,” I tell him. “That’s what I’m wearing.”
And then I hang up.
My cell phone vibrates in my hand before I can return it to the table. A photo message. I bring it up. It’s a picture of a pair of gray socks. Close up. Wherever Kylian is tonight, it looks like he’s outside.
I have to clap my hand over my mouth to muffle my laugh so I don’t wake Mom up. When I’ve contained my giggles, I shoot off a text.
Me: Sexy
Kylian: You should see my ankle if you want a good time
