Chapter Six
Forrest
I woke up, initially unsure of where I was, and then it all came tumbling back to me. How River had fallen trying to hop to the car to get what I had not grabbed when I got his things. How scooping him up in my arms felt like the most natural thing in the world and how leaving him to get his pills was the most challenging thing I’d done in week, the draw to stay by his side was beyond intense. How I waited for his pills to work, perched on the foot of his bed until his plea to lie beside him weakened me and I found myself with a snuggling omega at my side. How I tried to extricate myself from the situation every time his breathing became steady, only to have him grab on to me tighter until I eventually drifted off with him.
And then I woke in bed beside him. There was nothing right about the picture before me, and yet everything about it was right. I cracked my eyes to see his little smile as he slept, no sign of pain on his face.
I inched away, not wanting to leave him, but needing a little private time in the bathroom after having drunk so much cocoa the night before. That was apparently Snowflake’s cue to commence her purring, and one thing she was excellent at was purring loudly.
“Five more minutes,” River mumbled as he reached for his phone and instead found Snowflake who liked him because yeah, my cat was weird like that. “Oh, morning, Snowy.” His affection for Snowflake warmed my heart even if it was a craptastic nickname.
“I’m going to take a trip to the bathroom, and then I can help you up.”
His head snapped back, his eyes meeting mine filled with surprise and something else I couldn’t quite place.
“You stayed.”
“You wouldn’t let go of me.” I reached down to pet Snowflake, not at all because I wanted to be closer to River. Except totally because of that.
“Sorry about that.” His cheeks pinkened lightly. “Would you believe it was the meds?”
No part of me wanted to believe that.
“Never.” I tapped his nose before climbing out of bed. “It was my sexy pajamas, and no one’s gonna tell me anything different.” I twirled around in my ratty plaid pj’s before taking care of my needs in the bathroom, taking the time to brush my teeth because—sexy omega. I was glad I’d forgotten to take my shower bag upstairs with the rest of my things.
When I got back, he was sitting up, rubbing his eyes, Snowflake kneading his lap.
“You could’ve stayed asleep.” There was no need for either of us to be up. The snow was still falling hard, so even if we had places to go, that wasn’t going to happen. I had words to write, but the omega distraction that walked through the door felt like a better way to ride out the storm.
My agent would most definitely disagree with that assessment.
“I needed to get up.” He pouted, and I wanted to bite his lip.
Bad Forrest.
“You need help.” I wasn’t asking.
“One thing last night taught me was I’m pretty much done.” He petted Snowflake one last time before lifting her off his lap and onto the pillow beside him. Spoiled cat.
“How’s your arm?” I asked as I reached his side. The last thing I wanted to was to hurt him while trying to assist him.
“It didn’t bother me when I stretched it, so I’m thinking it’s fine.” He rotated until his legs dangled off the bed. From what I could see, his leg wasn’t swollen, but swelling might not even be a part of his injury.
“Here, slide into your foot in unless you want to shower.” I scooped his boot up off the floor.
“I really do. Want to shower, I mean. And brush my teeth.” I tried not to hold out hope that it was for the same reason I was so quick to get to my teeth that morning. Kissing would be bad. Very. Also, very amazing.
“Do you think you could look in the garage and see if my grandfather’s old shower bench is still in there? I’m hoping none of the cousins threw it away. You never need those things until you get rid of them, in my experience.”
I thought back to the night before. I hadn’t seen one, but I hadn’t been looking, and there was a ton of junk in that garage.
“True story.” I placed the boot beside him. “Sure. I’ll grab it if it’s there. Wait here.”
He nodded, and off I went to find the bench. It took me far less time to find it than I feared, but the thing was a hot mess of spiderwebs and bug carcasses. I wiped them off the best I could and carried it inside.
“This it?” I asked as I brought it into the bedroom.
“Yeah.”
“It’s pretty grubby. Can you wait five minutes while I clean it?
“Sure.” He was so much more docile and compliant than he had been the day before. I was sure a good chunk of it was that he had come to terms with the fact I was neither a squatter nor a serial killer. I had a feeling the other part was that he was in significantly less pain.
I used the bathroom cleaner to get it ready to use and set it up in the stall before setting River up for his shower. He was much more self-sufficient than the day before, and I was glad. Seeing him in that much pain and frustration had been hard on me. Not that it was any easier on him. In fact, it had to have been a thousand time worse for him. But still.
I headed into the kitchen and threw together the best breakfast I could without too much trouble. I wanted to be done and ready when the shower turned off if he needed me then.
He was hobbling out of the bathroom as I came in to let him know what was up—or at least that was my story. I was going in there to check on him. Overbearing alpha in the house.
“I made breakfast.”
His smile shone brighter than the sun against the snow. If breakfast could bring that out, I planned to make all the meals.
“I can smell it. It smells like hotdogs and eggs.” He looked baffled as if he knew he got it wrong. To the contrary, he was spot on.
“It is exactly that. No bacon and the sausage is frozen.”
“No bacon. That’s just wrong.”
“Tell that to the Mapleville Grocer who was sold out.” If I had had any passing thought I’d be in a town without any bacon left, I’d have brought some from home. A baconless cabin was just plain not right.
“They sell out of a lot of things—often. Small towns.” As if small towns was all the explanation needed. It kind of was. And if running out of bacon was the worst that happened by not living in the city, it was still more appealing.
“Let’s slide this on you.” I grabbed the boot as he perched on the edge of the bed. “There. How’s that?”
“Better.” He wiggled it around to the extent one could wiggle a boot. “I want to walk to the kitchen.”
“Are you in pain?” Not that any of this was my business, but out the words flew.
“No. Not now.”
“Then I’ll set up the table and join me when you can.” It was not my favorite thing, to walk away from him, but I had the table set by the time he arrived and was able to scoop up his meal as he sat down.
“Looks yummy.”
He was exaggerating. It looked edible, at best. But edible worked since going out wasn’t an option.
“Thanks. I know it’s not traditionally a breakfast combo.”
“Nope, but it works.”
It really did. I shoveled a forkful in my mouth as I heard the coffee pot stop dripping.
“Coffee?” Because I knew I could use a pot or five.
“Breathing?” Was his reply.
“What?” His answer perplexed me.
“My granddad used to say asking someone if they want coffee in the morning is like asking someone if they like to breathe. This place was his, so I tend to think about him a lot when I’m here.” The fondness that shone through him every time he mentioned his grandfather had me wishing I’d had someone like that in my life. Someone I thought of randomly and affectionately.
“I never knew any of mine. My parents did the eloping against all odds thing.” Or against all assholes as the case was.
“Sounds romantic.”
“I guess. Their parents on both sides were very into societal roles and having a beta and an alpha getting married broke all their expectations.” Or more accurately, their parents were made of awful.
“That’s stupid.” He ate another bite, looking at his food.
“It is. But you can’t pick your family.” Truer words were never spoken.
“I kind of get it.”
“Get what?” He’d only mentioned his family a few times the night before, but it was always with affection, so I had a feeling I was missing something.
“The societal bullshit. Being an omega but presenting as more alpha tends to rub people the wrong way.”
Aside from him standing toe to toe with me when he thought I was a squatter, he had been pretty omega like, which made me sound like a stereotyping asshole to myself.
“I never got that from you.”
His head snapped up, and he met my eyes. Crap. That’s what I got for speaking without thinking.
“I didn’t mean that how it sounded.” The last thing I wanted to do was upset him.
“No. You’re right. I should’ve said I didn’t come across that way in my field.” His clarification didn’t help.
“Which is?”
“Winter sports.” He reached for his last bit of hot dog, effectively shutting down the conversation. He probably worked at the ski resort or something and was embarrassed. He had no need to be. I told stories for my living. Nothing alpha about that. “Any more eggs?”
“Absolutely.” I grabbed his plate and headed to the stove. “And, River, for what it’s worth,” I called back, “I’ve been told I’m pretty un-alpha like myself. And you know what? Hasn’t hurt me any.”
At least not in my profession. In my personal life, it had hurt me a lot.