My Heat only lasts the weekend, but it’s the most powerful one I’ve ever had, possibly due to not having one for more than a year.
My limbs are weak and fatigue wracks my body, but I still feel a thousand times better than I did before.
I nap most of Sunday away, occasionally waking up to either Landon or River spooning me. They take turns holding me, feeding me, and doting on me.
I’m ashamed to say I love it. I wish I didn’t need to be taken care of.
I’m scared to ask for too much, even as River brings his mouth to my mating gland, inhaling deeply.
“You’re like a fucking drug,” he whispers into my skin as I doze. “You’re everything I shouldn’t want.”
I’ll disappoint you, I think. I’ll want too much. Need too much.
I don’t voice it. Instead, I allow myself to believe his words.
When I awake again, Landon is washing my face with a damp cloth and giving me one of his dimpled grins.
“Hey,” he whispers. “How are you feeling?”
I sigh lazily. “Better,” I admit. “Much better.”
He traces my lips with his finger, looking at me curiously. He joins me in the bed, lying on his side so he faces me.
“What?” I ask.
“You’re smiling,” he whispers, putting his forehead against mine. “I’m trying to memorize it.”
I giggle as he chuckles, snuggling closer to him through the blankets. They’ve been thoroughly cleaned again, and I’m in awe at how much they’ve done to ensure my comfort.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” I mumble. “Clean up and cook for me.”
His smile fades. “Of course we did,” he says, smoothing my hair from my face. “And we’d happily do it a thousand times more.”
I bite my lip and look down, suddenly interested in the fabric count of my blankets.
“Skylar,” Landon says. “Look at me.”
I meet his dark, soulful eyes in the lamplight.
“You’re worth it,” he says, his eyes searching mine. “Don’t ever forget that.”
I swallow and nod, still not believing it.
But I want to.
An hour later, I’m showered and dressed, and the sun is setting on Sunday night. I walk into the front room to see River and Landon quietly talking while looking at a laptop on the counter. River is squinting at the screen while Landon types.
Their scents are muted now. They mix into a warm, welcoming blend, and I realize that I could be content with this for a very long time.
Just River and Landon, occupying space with me.
But I shake the thought away.
We have to find April.
“Do you want me to pay you gas money?” I blurt out, and they both turn to look at me.
All three of us stand in awkward silence until River finds his voice.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” he demands, his brows furrowed.
“You came all this way and have done so much for me,” I say. “And gas isn’t cheap. I could pay—”
Landon’s expression matches River’s. “Skylar, I mean this as respectfully as I can, but don’t ever ask us that again,” he says.
“We can pay for our own gas,” River adds, searching my gaze. “Why would you—” Then realization dawns on his face.
“Has anyone ever asked you for gas money?” Landon adds.
My silence is all the answer they need.
Jason hated visiting. He said I lived too far and only wanted to come over if I gave him gas money.
Or if I was in Heat.
“Fuck this,” River adds, fishing into his wallet. He pulls out a card and places it in my hand. “If you ever need something,” he says.
I stare at the credit card in shock. “What? You don’t have to—”
“You live by yourself, and shit happens,” River snaps. “We can’t be here as often as we’d like to. Hold on to it. Use it.”
I stare at him, dumbfounded. “You can’t mean that,” I say. “I’m more than capable of making my own money—”
“Skylar, please,” Landon insists. “He’s right. We can’t be here all the time. Let us take care of you, sweetheart.”
My inner Omega does ten backflips in delight.
I never intend to use it. But it’s the intention behind it that makes my heart skip a beat.
I nod. “Okay,” I whisper. “Thank you.”
Landon gifts me a smile. “Now come here,” he says. “We have a lot to discuss.”
I stand around my kitchen counter with them late into the evening, answering questions and discussing their findings.
Hope rekindles in my chest.
I miss you, April.
But I’ll find you.
