Page 28 of Claiming the Pack’s Omega (Riverwell Omegaverse #2)

Reyna

I knew his smile would be amazing.

I thought I’d have to work a lot harder for it. Threatening to smack a crazy bitch who’s willing to throw around false allegations for her own gain is nothing.

All lying sucks. We already know I hate lying.

But girls like that? Who lie about something as serious as that? Who watch the lives of those they accused fall apart, knowing that retribution was all based on a bunch of bullshit?

That’s fucked.

Not only do they victimize the people they’re accusing, but they make things harder for the women and girls who have actually gone through shit.

It gives douchebags reason not to believe us, the first time around.

But I’ll get off my soapbox now.

Milo obviously still carries the weight of what happened to him as a kid. My focus should be on him, not on getting back at a girl I haven’t even met before.

“Good conversation,” I say, smiling back up at him. “Thanks for trusting me with that.”

“I—I haven’t trusted very many people with that stuff before," he says, glancing away again. “It took me a few years of being a pack to tell Stone and Killian.”

Wow. A few years? That’s a long time to keep something so big, especially from your packmates.

“Well, I guess I’m extra honored you decided to tell me, then. Now, we’ve still got the rest of the tour, right?”

Milo nods before taking a step away from me. He looks longingly down at my hand before he swallows hard and nods to himself.

Does he want to hold my hand?

I can do that.

I don’t make touching alphas a habit, when I can help it, but I’ve been reaching out to Milo a lot. Almost instinctually, too. I wonder where that’s coming from.

“Let’s go,” I say, lacing my hand with his. “Lead the way, Milo!”

He rewards me holding his hand with another one of those expressions that look an awful lot like awe.

“Okay,” he says softly.

He shows me around the rest of the second floor, where there’s a bedroom for each of the guys, along with a few extra offices that they use when they’re working from home.

The first floor is where things get exciting.

The kitchen is the sleekest part of this house, with stainless steel appliances and sprawling countertops.

There’s a griddle on the stove. A built-in griddle.

That’s fancy as hell.

I’d make bomb ass pancakes for my siblings on something like that.

My heart pangs at the thought that I won’t get to make my siblings’ breakfast anymore.

Sure, it sucked waking up at what felt like the asscrack of dawn to make them all food and get them to school on time, but they’re all such good kids.

I miss them.

I miss my entire family.

Like, a lot.

I shake my head, dragging myself back to reality. I’m giving my family the golden ticket out of the dead-end life we were living. This is necessary. And good.

“Holy shit, your kitchen is insane,” I breathe out.

“Yeah," he says. “Theo wanted a fancy kitchen.”

“Really? I wouldn’t have pegged him as the kind of guy who’d care about that kind of thing.”

“He’s a great cook. When he’s not ridiculously busy with things at the firm, he tries to make things for us all,” Milo says, leaning against the kitchen counter. “He taught himself how to cook when he was a kid ‘cause his original family… wasn’t very present.”

“Yeah, he’s mentioned some stuff to me about them.”

Milo’s brows go up in surprise.

“Really? He doesn’t talk to a lot of people about that.”

“Yeah, well, I guess I’m special,” I say, teasingly tossing my hair over my shoulder. “What can I say, people feel safe around me.”

Milo’s eyes are soft as they look at me.

“Yeah,” he says, seriously, no hint of any joking in sight.

Shit, now I feel like I was being an ass about them confiding in me.

“I’m not really that special,” I shrug.

“Agree to disagree.” Theo’s voice calls out from the front door. He saunters into the kitchen. “Sorry, guys, didn’t mean to listen in, I just heard the tail end of the conversation and had to?—”

“Butt in?” I say, letting out a huff of laughter.

“Well, I was going to say correct your factually incorrect statement, but butt in works too,” Theo says, flashing me a wink.

An actual fucking wink.

Who does this man think he is?

I roll my eyes, but I swear I can feel my cheeks growing pink. Why the hell does this man have to look and smell so delicious?

“Okay, enough teasing,” he says. “I’ve got Stone’s medication right here.”

He sets down a few different paper bags on the table.

“I’m going to try to get back in time to make some dinner, since this is your first night here, but it’s definitely going to be a bit late.”

“That’s fine,” I say, shrugging. “As long as you show me where and what I can eat in the meantime, I can eat dinner as late as you want.”

“You’ve got free rein over the entire kitchen,” Theo says, walking over to the fridge. “We try to keep it stocked with all the basics, but if there’s something you want, just ask Steve to add it to the grocery list.”

“Steve? Who’s he?”

“Oh, you haven’t explained Steve yet, Milo?” Theo says.

“No, not yet.” Milo glances at me, shifting nervously.

“Steve is the smart-home assistant Milo programmed for us. It’s like Alexa, but it’s fancier, in my opinion. It can do a lot more, and it tracks our voice so it knows who’s adding what. Here, watch.” Theo waves his hand up in the air. “Steve, make things sexy.”

The lights in the kitchen automatically dim, and sensual saxophone music starts playing over hidden speakers.

“You’re kidding,” I say, my jaw dropping. “Milo, that’s crazy cool!”

“It was pretty easy,” he says softly. He can’t hide the blush that covers his freckle-covered cheeks, though.

“Well then, you must be a genius, ‘cause that’s insane.” I turn to Theo. “Saxophone music, though? I can think of sexier music than this.”

“Well then, by all means, show me some other time,” he says. “Unfortunately, I’ve got to run to a meeting. You have my number, right?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Perfect. Use it if you need anything.”

Theo takes a second to just stare at me, like he’s taking in the sight of me in his kitchen, before he glances away.

“See you tonight, Spitfire.”

And then he’s leaving.

For whatever stupid reason, as I watch his broad back turn the corner, I want to yell at him to stay.

But that’s silly.

He has to go to work and I’m still mad at him.

But am I really mad at him? Or just the suddenness of this change?

I shake my head, snapping myself back to reality.

“Do you have the instructions the nurse gave you for Stone’s care?” I ask Milo.

“Yeah, they’re right here.”

“Perfect. I don’t think we have to change his bandages or anything until tonight. I can start teaching you how to do that then, how does that sound?”

Milo nods, leaning over my shoulder as I flip through the papers and find all the medications Stone has been prescribed.

I toss all the orange plastic pill bottles into one paper bag and tuck that under my arm.

“Cool, we should go bring these to Stone now, then. His injuries must be hurting like a bitch,” I say. “Could you grab a water bottle or something for him?”

Milo follows my instructions like an eager puppy dog. I can’t hold my smile back if I tried.

“This is his room, right?” I ask him, glancing over my shoulder and stopping in front of the door I think Milo pointed out earlier.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding.

“You don’t have to come along for this part, you know.”

“I—I want to," he says softly. “I like spending time with you.”

“Good to know,” I say, flashing him a genuine smile. “I’m starting to like your company.”

I turn to Stone’s bedroom door and knock a few times.

“Come in,” Stone calls through the door, his voice a little strained.

He’s resting near the edge of his large, king-sized bed, as if he collapsed there and hasn’t found the energy to move.

“Damn, you look like shit,” I say, setting down the paper bag full of medication on his nightstand.

“That’s not very nice, Wildflower.”

“It’s the truth. You shouldn’t have pushed yourself trying to get to your room without help,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

“You’re right,” he sighs. “I just hate feeling like I’m useless.”

“Seems like you seriously hate hospitals, too,” I add.

“You noticed that, huh?” He says, glancing away nervously.

Part of me wants to say I’d have to be blind not to notice. He looked like he was going to throw up. Considering I already fucked up earlier by mentioning something about matching names, I don’t want to stick my foot in my mouth again.

“Yeah,” I say softly. “I did.”

“Sorry about that,” he says, shrugging his shoulders, even though I know it causes him pain.

“Hey, stop moving that shoulder. And stop apologizing too, you have nothing to apologize for,” I say, reaching out and touching his shoulder as if me touching him will keep him still.

Which is silly, considering there’s no way in hell I could keep this mountain of a man from moving if I wanted to. I can feel the warmth of his skin and the bulk of his muscles through the fabric of his T-shirt.

He reaches up and holds my hand to his shoulder, making me jump slightly. His large, calloused hand engulfs mine.

“I’m glad you’re safe," he murmurs, looking up at me with those piercing blue eyes that captivated me ever since I first looked into them in The Warehouse’s locker room.

God, no wonder the girls there were fighting over who got to be his ring girl. Even with the bruises turning a mottled shade of blue and purple along his jaw, he’s still ridiculously handsome.

His spicy pepper scent swirls around us, sinking into every pore of my body and all I can think about is him.

“What?” I say, blinking down at him.

Fuck, I need to keep my wits about me more. A handsome alpha blinks up at me in bed, looking vulnerable, and I lose my ability to function?

An alpha who’s shown me nothing but kindness since the day I first met him.