Page 45 of Altius (The Scent of Victory #2)

Twenty-Eight

Morgan

W hen we reemerged from the gym, freshly spritzed with scent-canceling spray, it was as though nothing had changed.

Kelsey bustled around the kitchen, rinsing a colander full of mixed berries while French toast sizzled on the stove.

A bleary-eyed Cal drank coffee at the dining table, frowning at the business headlines on my laptop, while ignoring his buzzing phone.

Tenny was sound asleep on the cat tree by the window, belly up and whiskers twitching, while Kip batted a fuzzy green ball around by the fireplace.

A half-drunk Jacobi staggered through the door, reeking of trouble, based on Kelsey’s expression. He gobbled down enough food for three people before heading upstairs to crash.

So cozy, so familiar. Normal. Yet I was still reeling from the quiet miracle by my side.

Wyatt beat Cal to the last piece of French toast, drowning it in maple syrup and whipped cream, unduly smug as he took a large bite, making exaggerated noises as he chewed.

Driving the point home that today, at least, he was the winner.

He looked at me in triumph. The color of his eyes reminded me of a blue glacier, otherworldly and rare, reflecting the profound depths of his happiness.

A large hand settled on my knee beneath the table. “I need to cancel our plans today.”

Cal’s voice was rough from lack of sleep. Sadly, it was from dealing with the fallout of the Roddy mess, not our nocturnal activities on the foyer ottoman.

“Chaz called a family meeting.” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Don’t know how long it’ll take. Sorry, sweetheart.”

Rubbing the hand on my knee, I offered him a gentle smile. “It’s okay. I figured this was coming. Besides, it’s not like we had any pressing plans.”

Cal’s mouth tightened as he gave me a knowing look, eyes tinged with gold. He’d been looking forward to spending the day in my nest, having lazy sex, and finishing off my heat snacks while he figured out how to work all the gadget upgrades Kelsey had installed.

“There’s always next weekend,” I reassured him—just as a second shorter, rougher hand landed on my opposite knee.

Wyatt’s fingers slid higher, caressing the fullest part of my thigh, indicating he was more than willing to take advantage of Cal’s absence.

The two alphas locked gazes. Cal raised a brow, issuing a silent challenge. A shit-eating grin slowly spread across Wyatt’s face. Both their chests expanded, along with their auras, crowding the table. Electricity crackled in the air.

Kelsey held her breath and shrank back in her seat.

Sparks of anger gathered on the tip of my tongue. I’d tolerate their alpha nonsense in a wide range of situations and locations, but not here.

The loft was not only Kelsey’s home but also her place of business. No one was allowed to make her uncomfortable for any reason, especially not these two.

My boyfriends—yes, plural—might have special privileges, but they still had to play by my rules.

Just as I was about to open my mouth, the air shifted, tension evaporating, and a pair of identical, easygoing smiles appeared on Wyatt and Cal’s faces.

“No need to reschedule.” Cal squeezed my knee before letting go. “Wyatt’s got you covered.”

A surprised hiccup escaped Kelsey. She pressed her napkin to her mouth and stared at me.

Oh no.

She was going to want answers, but I didn’t have any. I was still struggling to wrap my head around what happened in the gym.

Cal’s knees popped as he stood up, collected everyone’s dirty plates, and carried them into the kitchen. Wyatt was quick to follow with the toppings and empty glasses.

Observing their teamwork with gleaming eyes, Kelsey sprang up, grabbing my wrist as she rushed past, dragging me toward the staircase.

“Kels, what the—”

“Zip it.”

Cal and Wyatt leaned out of the kitchen, watching us climb the stairs with similar expressions of amused confusion.

Striding across the walkway, Kelsey pulled me toward her room—only to veer sideways at the last second, flinging the guest room door open and pulling me inside.

“Wake up,” she ordered Jacobi, turning on the overhead light.

My best friend and I both recoiled.

“Turn it off!” he cried, yanking the sheet over his head. “It burns, it burns.”

“Don’t care.” Kelsey pulled the covers off the bed without mercy, leaving Jacobi with only his boxers for warmth.

“What the hell, Kelsey?” He reared back, eyes blazing, ready to grapple with her to reclaim the bedspread.

“It’s an emergency.”

“Nothing is more important than letting a broken-hearted man sleep off a bender and bad sex!”

Rolling my eyes, I grabbed a chenille blanket from the accent chair and chucked it at him. “Take a deep breath.”

“Oh, don’t you start,” he said, swatting at the blanket, unable to make heads or tails of it. “Not when you’re the queen of self-destructive—”

“Jacobi.” I clapped my hands once to draw his attention, then took a few steps toward the bed. “Take a literal deep breath, you moron.”

After he finished draping the blanket over his head like a babushka, Jacobi gave me a perfunctory sniff—and froze.

“Wait. You’re wearing spray.” He scrambled across the mattress, snagging a fistful of my shirt and holding me in place while he sniffed my wrists and neck. “Ooh, that’s not post-workout Wyatt stink.”

Kelsey dropped his bedding on the mattress and sat down, crossing her arms with satisfaction. “I think it smells like someone tried to erase the evidence of a make-out session. How about you?”

“Either that or her New Year’s resolution was to faceplant in a hedge maze.” Jacobi grabbed my shoulders, using them as leverage to rise on his toes, staring down at me with devilish delight. “Was it good? I bet it was good.”

I shook my head. “There’s nothing much—”

“Overruled,” he said, dropping back to the floor and guiding me to the bed by my shoulders.

“But—”

“It’s you and Wyatt ,” Kelsey said with emphasis. “That’s the exact opposite of nothing.”

Forcing me to sit down, Jacobi plopped beside me, still wearing the blanket like a ridiculous hood, and gripped both my hands tightly, commanding, “Out with it.”

“You guys—”

“Ten seconds,” he said, intense brown eyes boring into mine. “Or I holler for Wyatt to get his fine ass up here.”

Kelsey gave me a knowing look. “And you know he’ll spill. He can’t wait to brag after holding his own against Cal just now.”

“What?” The pressure of Jacobi’s hold rivaled the tightest of handcuffs. “Oh, honey. You’re not leaving until I know everything .”

And he meant it.

***

Hooking a leg over the solid reassurance of Wyatt’s calf as we cuddled in my nest, I shifted closer and sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Wyatt murmured into my hair as he stroked my back. “Worried they’ve told the rest of your family by now?”

“They probably have, but I don’t mind. Mostly still stunned. About us. And Kelsey. Can’t believe she pulled a stunt like that in front of you.”

“Baby,” Wyatt said with an indulgent chuckle, “don’t take this the wrong way, but don’t you think she’s been exceptionally accommodating of all the men sniffing around you? I mean, when was the last time she had a full day to herself around here?”

“Uh…” I tried, really tried, to scour my memory bank.

Wyatt came over at the crack of dawn to work out every morning, while Cal came over most evenings and at least one night every weekend.

And since my heat, the other guys kept popping by with increasing regularity—Alijah asking to borrow a cup of sugar, Owen swinging by to retrieve paperwork he forgot in my office, and Joaquin helping haul last-minute Beaufeather’s orders for Christmas down to Kelsey’s car.

“Shit.” I repeatedly knocked my head against his chest in frustration.

“Don’t feel bad.” He slid a hand between my forehead and his sternum to stop my self-punishment. “Cal and I weren’t exactly minding our manners today. It was well-deserved payback.”

I pulled away and narrowed my eyes at him. “But you two didn’t have to answer Jacobi’s seven hundred questions. I did.”

“But on the plus side, you got to tell him about us in person. I want him to know. I want everyone to know.”

Pulling me into a tight embrace, Wyatt rolled me onto my back and buried his face in my neck. After a few greedy huffs of my scent, his tongue darted out to trace my collarbone.

“This is happening, Morgan.”

Eyes closed, I trailed my fingers through his long hair and let the moment sink in.

The two of us. Together.

His broad, densely muscled form pressed against mine, the steady strength of his pulse echoing the confidence in his voice. Each stroke of his fingers beckoned another flicker of desire. The breathless shivers caused by the teasing grazes of his tongue.

Twirling his hair around my fingers, I marveled at its inky softness. “Is working together going to be a problem?”

“No,” he asked, without hesitation. “We really won’t see each other that much. Not like you and Cal during football. If he can keep your relationship a secret, I can do the same.”

“Okay,” I said, pressing his coiled hair to my lips. “But if being around each other during gymnastics meets is too difficult for you, or triggers your pheromones—”

“It won’t, I promise.”

“Are we having a conversation, or are you just agreeing with everything I’m saying right now because you want to use your free pass?”

“Probably a bit of both.” His nose trailed along the side of my neck. “But I’ll admit I used to agree with most things you said because I was desperate for your approval.”

His words stung, an unintentional double-edged sword of honesty and regret that cut deep without meaning to.

Was the pain of our separation destined to be like my temper—an unbreakable curse—or could we learn to mend the matching voids in our souls?

“You don’t need my approval, Wyatt,” I murmured as I slipped my glasses off. Reaching back, I tucked them behind a pillow for safety. “Or to go out of your way to please me. I want us to be together as we are now. The current versions of us. No more looking back.”