Page 59 of My Three Hometown Alphas

To remember her.

Like I could ever forget her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Avery

I bolt upright in bed,hearing a banging sound coming from the front of the guesthouse. My heart starts beating out of control. Rain is pelting against the window above my bed.

The banging sound continues over and over again. Fear wraps around my heart like a vice. I can barely breathe.

Someone’s breaking in.

I scramble to grab my phone from the bedside table. I press Will’s name without even thinking about it. I can contemplate later why he’s the one I chose to call in this moment.

“Avery,” his gravelly voice comes through the line.

“Help,” I rasp, hearing the banging once again.

His voice is suddenly more alert. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“I… I think someone’s trying to break in,” I say, my hand shaking the phone as I press it against my ear.

I can hear his feet pounding against the stairs. “I’m coming,” he says.

I stay in my bed, unable to move with the terror running through me.

“Just breathe, baby,” he says. I know he’s outside with the pattering of rain coming through the line.

I yelp when the front door swings open.

“It’s just me,” he says, loud enough for me to hear him in the bedroom.

I drag in a breath of relief. His footsteps pad around the small space until he walks into my bedroom. His eyes scan the room before settling on me.

“A tree branch snapped with the wind and was banging against the front window,” he says.

“Oh…” is all I can manage.

“I moved it, so it won’t happen again.”

“Oh,” I say again, trying to crawl out of bed with shaky legs. He’s suddenly gripping my arms to steady me.

“Sit back down,” he says, easing me back onto the edge of the bed. “Your body’s crashing from the adrenaline.”

“Oh,” I say again because apparently that’s the only word my brain has access to.

He fits himself between my thighs, rubbing his hands up and down my arms. His touch is firm, letting me know he’s right here. I’m not alone.

One of his hands moves up to cup the side of my face. “I’ve got you. You’re okay,” he whispers.

I blink several times, taking a deep breath, then another.

“That’s my girl,” he says, gently.

My eyes finally focus enough to take in his appearance. He’s soaking wet and wearing only a pair of boxer briefs.

Maybe if my brain wasn’t crashing out, I would laugh at the fact he’s the second Kingston brother to show up in his underwear in the middle of the night.