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I grab a glass and fill it with water. “No, I’m just thirsty,” I say right as my stomach growls.
“Eat, princess,” Brady snaps. The first thing he’s said to me.
Is it possible to hate and love a nickname? The way he says it is venomous, but at the same time, he’s given me one. Maybe unintentionally, or maybe he’s always meant it as an insult. To me, though, it’s proof of this thing between us, and since I’ve spent years pretending it’s not real, I cling to the scraps of evidence. His anger and annoyance prove I’m not delusional.
I sneak a glance at him, taking in the rigid set of his jaw and white-knuckled fists. “Okay,” I comply, and that alone seems to ease a little of the tension that’s taken hold of him.
Austin sets a plate with three sets of tortillas in front of me and pushes the fajita mixture toward me. “Omegas first.” He slides Dylan and Brady their plates and tortillas.
I chuckle nervously. “You made it, you should go first.”
“No.” He places his palms on the counter and squints at me. Without realizing it, Austin has blocked the last of the fresh air. The three brothers surround me, like points of a triangle, and it’s almost too much to bear. “Go ahead,” he says softly, flashing his dimples.
I can’t deny that look.
My fingers tremble as I take the handle of the spoon. I inhale shallow breaths, doing my best to stay sane and serve myself. A hand brushes mine, and I pinch my eyes shut as Brady takes the spoon.
Get it together, Quinn.
I force my eyes open, catching Austin’s sky-blue gaze lit with curiosity. “I’m tired,” I say before dropping my gaze.
He hums but doesn’t call me on the obvious lie. The alphas move around me, and even though I pray for a hole to appear and swallow me whole, being encapsulated in their scents is soothing and devastating. Part of me basks in their presence, and the primal part demands I share my secret. Demands I claim what’s mine.
This torture is all I’ll ever have.
The guys talk and discuss potentially suing the contractor responsible for the faulty plumbing, oblivious to my inner turmoil. I choke down one fajita, barely managing to swallow around the thick lump of agony in my throat. The food is delicious. It’s the keen awareness of the alphas that keeps me from enjoying it. I drain my water, hoping it’ll help ground me.
It doesn’t.
Brady’s arm brushes mine as we reach for the pitcher of water at the same time.
My eyes jump to his, and his nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath. Is he...trying to scent me? The descenting lotion has yet to wear off. There’s nothing for him to smell. His jaw ticks, almost like he’s mad, and he retracts his arm. I fill my glass halfway and quickly drink it before excusing myself and running from the room like it’s on fire.
Fifteen
QUINN
Scalding hot water isn’t enough to chase away their scents. I wash off the sunblock with special soap formulated to break down the scent suppressors. Water and sweat aren’t strong enough to break it down. My scent floods the bathroom. This is about the only place I don’t have to worry about them catching my scent. There’s an industrial-strength air purifier in my room, and the ventilation system sucks away most of it, along with the steam from the shower, anyway.
I shut the water off and breathe in the honey and musk of my perfume, fantasizing about how Dylan and Austin would react if they knew. Wrapping a towel around myself, I climb out of the shower and shake off my delusions. Dinner was a moment of weakness. I won’t let them catch me off guard like that again. I will be strong. I will deny the desires that burn inside of me.
Them staying here isn’t a big deal.
Brady and I have kept the secret safe for years. The same for me and Austin, when it comes to our kiss. But I have a secret with Dylan, too, don’t I? This is exactly why I can’t let myself get lost in the what ifs. Our secrets have the power to destroy the happy home my mom and stepdads have built. Knowing howmuch it hurt her when my real dads left, having witnessed the bone-deep pain, only makes me more determined to make sure Dylan and Austin never find out I’m their scent match.
I leave my hair to drip dry and reach for the door to my en suite bathroom. Before I can open it, it’s wrenched open. Brady takes up more space than any alpha has a right to. I remember him being tall. I remember the way his eyes bore into me, like he wanted to rip me apart. I remember him being broad shouldered and thickly muscled, but I don’t remember the sprinkling of a five o’clock shadow highlighting his strong jaw.
Heart skipping, I clutch the towel to my body. “What do you want?” My voice is a faint rasp.
He doesn’t respond but takes a step forward. I frown and take one back, refusing to so much as touch him. Something dark flashes over his features, and he surges toward me. I gasp and stumble away from him until my back kisses the wall. My heart is in my throat as he stops mere inches away from me. My head tips back and my eyebrows slam together.
“Brady?”What are you doing?
His nostrils flare, and he lowers his face toward mine. My breath catches, heart hammering against my rib cage as he draws nearer. This close, I notice tiny specks of light blue in his midnight irises. This close, I can sense how intensely he wants to destroy me. It’s so visceral, it almost hurts. I swallow and hold my breath as he shifts to the side. His nose trails up the length of my neck, a whisper of a touch, and his inhale caresses over my skin. A soft, unbidden keen spills from my lips.So close.
His fist slams into the wall, and I gasp, cowering beneath his hulking form. Every breath he takes shudders through his chest. The room swims with his rich, earthen scent. So potent and filled with promises of late nights full of pleasure that I’ll never have. A teasing reminder of what willneverbe allowed. His other palm slaps against the wall by my head, and I pinch my eyes shut,ignoring my omega instincts, which are demanding that I please the pissed-off alpha.
I want to touch him, to soothe away whatever it is that’s made him mad, but I know it’s me. I know he hates me. I know he can’t stand the sight of me, as much as he can’t stand the way I smell. Still, he cages me against the wall and breathes me in. Almost as though he’s savoring my scent.
