Page 93 of In Deep

He chuckles. “I don’t know what you’ve done to me, Rosie. I can’t stop all these words from pouring out of me when I’m inside you.”

“You should write them down.”

He shakes his head.

“Why? They’re poetic.”

He peers into my face to see if I’m serious. “You think?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Sometimes I write,” he admits.

I smile at him. “I thought you probably did. Do the others know?”

“No, I haven’t shared any of it with anyone.” He twists his head and kisses the palm of my hand. “You’re the first person I’ve told.”

“What’s it about?”

“Shit. All sorts.” He wraps his arms around me, bringing me closer, his knot still firm inside me. “Some of it’s about this little mouse who kept driving the big bad wolf to distraction with her squeaks and her squeals.”

“Until finally, he caught her in his big paws.”

“And then she squeaked and squealed for him.”

He kisses my neck, a trail up and down. “I’m glad you’re home, Rosie. I’m sorry all that heartache happened with Seb. But now it’s better than before. Now that we all belong together. It feels stronger.”

“See,” I say, aware I’m sniffling. “You could be a writer.”

“I want to win a gold medal at the Olympics.” He grins. “Just got to find those extra seconds.”

I smile back at him, my eyes wet, my heart full of emotion.

“And what do you want to be, little mouse, when you grow up?”

“If I can get a good degree and Dr Whei puts a word in for me, I’m hoping I can get a job at the International Space Agency.”

He squeezes me tight.

“Our omega is fucking awesome,” he roars, tilting his head to listen. “Did you hear that, boys?” he yells again towards the staircase. “Awesome.”

“Very poetic,” I giggle.

Chapter 29

“Ican’t believe you’re leaving me,” Soph moans face down on my bed, making no effort to help me pack up my stuff like she’d offered.

“I’m not leaving you,” I say from my position cross-legged on the floor, where I’m stacking my books into boxes. “I’m only moving to the outskirts of the city.”

“It’s so far!”

“It is not. And I’m going to see you every day in lectures. And you can come for sleepovers in my room and actually have somewhere to sleep.”

Soph props herself up on her elbows. “You mean your room in the roof? Like Cinderella. Are they going to make you cook and clean?”

“Cinderella lived in the cellar. Disney got it wrong. She didn’t live in a massive, designer attic room.”

“You’re so lucky.”