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“Sure,” I say and stab another piece of egg.
“I promise it’ll be fun.”
More like torture, but I’m slowly learning I’m a glutton for punishment. What’s a little more?
The moon is full,so bright and reflecting off the ocean that it almost creates the illusion of sunlight on our private beach. A brine-coated breeze rolls through the open window and teases my hair. The alarm clock on the bedside table blinks an unholy number in my direction.
I should be sleeping, especially after I’ve spent every night since Dylan cornered me and Austin tried to scent me wide awake. My body should be exhausted. And yet here I am, forearms resting on the windowsill as I gaze out at the endless sea. Dreaming about what can never be.
My bedroom door opens, and I suck in a breath, staying put. I know exactly who it is. The only alpha in the house who’s ever made his way to my bed in the middle of the night. His feet shuffle across the floor, and my stomach flips as the bed dips. Dylan gets into my bed like it’s something he’s done his entire life. I keep my eyes pinned on the water, listening to him settle into the bed.
Tears prick at the edges of my eyes. It’s so painfully clear to me why he’s here. Is he clueless, or is he playing dumb? The way he’d caged me against the threshold of the front door was anything but pretend.
“Lie down, Quinn.”
Gasping, I whirl around and find Dylan wide awake, staring at me. His black hair is messy and his jaw is peppered with whiskers. Dark circles mar his beautiful face. Has he been having trouble sleeping too?
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
Pushing up to rest on one arm, he reaches for me. “I’m trying to sleep.” His fingers wrap around my wrist like a manacle, and he drags me off-balance.
“Dylan,” I chastise, using my freehand to catch myself. “You can’t be in here.”
“Why? I’ve slept in here more times than I can count.”
“Yeah, but?—”
“But what, little omega?”
My throat closes at the nickname, and I swallow, forcing air into my lungs to calm my racing heart. “You’re awake.”
“Never noticed.”
“Shut up.” I narrow my eyes on him, then cut my gaze toward his hand still wrapped around my wrist. “Brady?—”
“Can eat shit. I’m fucking tired, Quinn. My fight is tomorrow night, and if I don’t get some rest, I’m going to lose.”
Arching an eyebrow, I shake my head. “We can’t.”
“Says who?” He tugs and, this time, I fall face-first into his chest. His arms snap around me before I can push away and get some much needed space.
“Common sense,” I say, tipping my head to search his face. “This is a bad idea.”
His lips kick into a devilish smirk. “I love bad ideas.”
My breath stutters in my chest.He’s not saying he loves you, idiot. He loves bad ideas.“Well, I don’t want Brady to rip my head off.” I place my hands on his solid pecs and push, but he simply rolls until we’re lying side by side and one of his legs secures me to his body as well.
“Sleep with me.”
Okay.
“We can’t.”
He releases a harsh breath and pinches his eyes closed. “Please, Quinn. I just need to sleep.”
“Why can’t you do it in your own bed?” I try to push away again, but one hand catches my chin. My eyes fly to meet his.
He doesn’t answer my question with words, but there, in the reflection of his lightning-streaked irises, is a truth that soothes the ache in my chest. A raw sort of honesty not even Dylan can admit aloud. He needs me. Or needs an omega, but the way his eyes dip to my lips has my heart trembling in my chest and my cunt clenching.
