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No, please no.I don’t think I can keep from blushing.
“Of course,” I tell her, dropping my purse onto a foyer table. “It smells great.”
“I also brought some new wine for you to try.” She prattles on about her trip and the various things they did, the things they brought home, and how amazing it was as she leads me to the kitchen.
My stomach churns with nerves the closer we get. I can already smell them. Their scents are mixed in with my stepdads’ and mom’s, but it’s easy to pick theirs out. Cedarwood. Rain. Amber. The only thing that’s missing is mine. I rub at my chest and remind myself that it’s only for a little while.
“Quinn’s home!” Mom tells my stepdads, brushing by Trenton to grab a glass of wine for me.
“Hey, honey!” Trenton stands and gives me a gentle hug. Wyatt and Lock do the same. They all look a little more tan than before they left, and they’re glowing with happiness.
We definitely made the right decision to wait to tell them.
“Hey, Quinny,” Dylan says from his seat, nodding at me before turning back to tell Wyatt about his upcoming fight.
I’d be lying if I said the dismissal didn’t hurt, but this is all pretend. Brady simply looks at me and grumbleshi. I’d almost forgotten how grumpy and annoyed he used to be with me, but that tone hits me like a slap to the face. I swallow and look away without responding before he realizes how much it bothered me.
It’s just pretend, Quinn.
“Hey, Chef,” I tell Austin with a smile. “Need any help?”
“And have you burn the butter?” he teases with a shake of his head. “No, I’m almost done.
Actually, I’ve gotten a lot better in the kitchen, thanks to his tutoring, but it’s probably better we don’t bring that up or give our parents any reason to dig into what we did while they were away. He turns away from me to continue working.
Rejection floods through my veins.
God, this is fucking miserable.
“Here you go, hun. This is a sweet red from this little vineyard we went to. They had the prettiest patio, and there were cats everywhere, wandering around, begging for pets?—”
“And scraps,” Lock adds.
“They were hungry from all their hunting!” Mom chides him. “I guess they take care of the field mice. Anyway, taste the wine and tell me all about your internship. Oh, and the apartment hunt. Do you need any help? You know I love looking at new apartments and houses.”
I clutch my glass and take a seat beside my mom and next to Brady. His scent wraps around my neck, and I struggle to talk without choking. This is going to be a long night.
As soon asit’s socially acceptable, I escape to the safety of my room and dive into my nest—the only place I allowed myself to save their scents. I bury myself under the weight of their clothes and blankets and pillows, letting the pressure of their scents bear down on me until my hands stop shaking.
The fabric is oppressive against my nose and mouth, but at this point, I’ll gladly forgo oxygen to have their scents coating my skin. Eventually, I end up falling asleep. Nightmares of the guys running away or leaving haunt me.
I wake up a while later to the mattress shifting. Jolting up, I clutch my chest and stifle a scream as the guys climb into the nest. “What are you doing?” I hiss.
“Shhh,” Dylan warns. “Just let it happen.”
“This is exactly the opposite of what we agreed to,” I whisper.
“Lie down, baby,” Austin grumbles.
“But—”
“Quinn?”
I arch an eyebrow at Brady.
“Shut up and let us in. We’re all feeling miserable, and I know you are too.”
“It was awful,” I confess with a sniff. “I hated every second.”
