Page 64

I start peeking around the huge pile. There are bags full of makeup and hair products that I avoid. I have no clue what I’m doing with those and I would rather not practice when they’re expecting a fashion show. I’ve never had access to things like that. The most I’ve had to take care of my appearance has been a brush and hair ties.

I instantly gravitate towards a bag full of comfy-looking clothes. There are a few matching sweatsuits with one of the softest fabrics I’ve ever felt.

“Are those the clothes you want to try on first?” Archer asks from his position on one of the couches in the sitting room, looking up from his phone. His expression is a bit softer than I’ve seen it before.

“Yeah! If that’s okay with you?” I clutch the plastic nervously in my hands.

“Of course. This is all for you. If there’s anything you don’t like, just let us know and Chase can easily return it and we can find something that suits you better.”

Ideally, I’d like everything to be returned and to get things exponentially cheaper, but I’m still grateful for the sentiment. They really seem to want me to like what they’ve gotten me.

“O—Okay, thank you.”

I take the shopping bag into the bathroom and take out a baby pink sweatsuit. There are a few of them in the bag, all different matching colors. I hold it up to my face, rubbing my cheek on the inner lining.

It’s literally like a bed of clouds.

I keep on Chase’s boxers, but slide off Madden’s old T-shirt. The sweatpants are loose and a bit baggy, so I’m able to slide them over my bandages pretty easily. My ribs protest a bit when I raise my arms to try and get the sweatshirt over my head, but it’s a totally manageable amount of pain.

I take a peek at myself in the mirror, finger-combing through my hair. The clothes look super cute. It looks like something Charlotte would wear. That makes me feel warm inside.

I feel like an omega. A real one.

Surrounded by the warm softness of this fabric, a spark of hope ignites in my chest. Maybe I can be warm and soft too. Like an omega should be.

That sounds so much better than being jaded and scared.

I open the door to see all four of them in the sitting room waiting for me.

Chase turns around instantly at the sound of the bathroom door opening. “Holy shit, that looks cute as hell! Come on out here so we can see better!”

I walk out, my steps a bit of a nervous shuffle.

“How do you like it?” Madden asks. “I bet it’s more comfortable than my old t-shirt.”

“I—I really like this fabric,” I say. A blush covers my cheeks as Iremember the planes of tattoo-covered muscle I got to see when Madden last gave me his shirt to wear. “I do really enjoy wearing your shirt too, though.”

“I’m glad,” Madden says. “It’s good to have variety though, so it’s awesome you’ve found something you like.”

“Do you want to try on the other sweatsuits right now? If this size works for you, all the rest in that bag should fit you!” Chase jumps up and starts rummaging through some of the bags.

“I—I think I’m okay, if it’s okay with you I’d like to just keep them all, I like having the different colors.”

“Awesome!” he says, jumping up with another bag. “You’re more than welcome to tell me to shut up, but if you’re taking requests, I’d love to see you in this.”

The bag he hands me has what looks to be a white dress with lavender flowers.

“Sure,” I say, taking the bag from him.

“Great! I know it’s still cold as shit outside, so this would probably be something you could only wear inside for a while, but I have a feeling it’ll look great on you.”

The feel of the soft fabric between my fingertips—the fabric of a dress that’s obviously meant to be worn months from now—makes something squeeze inside my chest. They’ve provided me with things they think I’ll need months from now.

As if they’re planning to keep me around.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “I—I really appreciate everything you all are doing for me.”

I quickly turn, the plastic of the shopping bag crinkling underneath my white-knuckled grip.