Page 50 of Stream Heat (Omega Stream #1)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Kara

I found Theo in the kitchen later that night, and if the sandwich he was making had a soul, it would have been in danger.

The way he was manhandling the bread was borderline criminal, the knife hacking through the loaf with way more force than necessary.

The ingredients got clapped together so fast, I was surprised none of them broke the sound barrier.

I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You’re going to end up with a felony against that sandwich if you’re not careful.”

He glanced up at me, jaw tight, the entire room instantly thick with the smell of frustrated Alpha, sharp green tea, ozone, the edge of a lightning strike. Buried under that were layers I couldn’t untangle. Anger, jealousy, heat, but also something quiet and hopeful he’d never admit to having.

“I’m just showing this sandwich the attention it deserves,” he bit out, the smile he tried to throw on clearly not landing. “Not like some people, who get all the attention around here just for… existing.”

That was such a Theo thing to say that it almost made me laugh. Instead, I took a few steps in. “That’s exactly what we need to talk about.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he said, cutting the sandwich in half with enough force the knife skittered against the cutting board. “Alpha fucks Omega. Wow, what a shocker. How traditional. How boringly inevitable.”

“Is that what you think happened?” I asked, eyebrows up. “You think Reid claimed me like some kind of... possession?”

“You tell me.” His hands clenched tighter on the counter, knuckles pale against the wood. “You still smell like him. Do you have any idea what that does to the rest of us? To me?”

He finally met my gaze, for once not hiding behind a bad joke. He looked raw, stripped-down, nothing between me and that jagged vulnerability.

It threw me. I cleared my throat. “Tell me, then. What does it do to you? Specifically.”

He scrubbed a hand through his hair, almost frantic. “It makes me want to tear his throat out.” A wild, painful laugh. “And then bite you right where he did, just to prove I can. And then maybe cry about it a little, which is very not-alpha, so let’s just act like I didn’t say that last part.”

That startled a laugh out of me in spite of myself. “You don’t do anything halfway, do you?”

“That’s the Theo special.” He tried to grin, and it was actually better, but the tension didn’t really go anywhere. “Too loud, too much, too everything.”

I recognized that self-deprecation, because it was the same flavor I’d used to keep the world at arm’s length for years. “You’re not too much. You’re exactly what you’re supposed to be.”

He looked away. “Try telling that to all the people who just want me to turn the volume down. Or be less… messy.”

“I wouldn’t,” I said, moving closer, right into his space now. “Your chaos is the only reason I’m still sane.”

His scent changed, ozone spiking with interest. “You need me to keep you from going off the deep end, huh?”

“Exactly. You remind me not to take myself too seriously. You call me out when I start spiraling. And you make me laugh when I can’t see anything funny about my life.” I was near enough to touch him. “You balance me out.”

His breath caught, hope bright and sharp on his face before the old doubt wrapped around him again. “Even if you say that, you still picked Reid to be with first.”

“I didn’t pick anybody.” My voice came out low, fierce. “It just kind of happened. If it had been you…”

He snorted. “You wouldn’t have asked me. I’m not the steady one. That’s not my job. I’m the chaos gremlin, remember?”

“You’re selling yourself short.” His whole attitude was making me want to shake him. “You think I don’t notice how you ratchet it down around me when I’m close to the edge? All the times you distract me right when I’m about to spiral, or order what I want even if I haven’t even said it out loud?”

He looked surprised. “That’s just… what you do for friends, I guess.”

“It’s more than that, and you know it.” I was close enough now that I could practically taste his scent, the edge of sour-sweet green tea mixing with my own. “You don’t just care about me as an Omega. You care about me as me.”

“Course I do,” he said, and for once he didn’t try to hide it. “I’ve been half in love with you since you called me a ‘sentient energy drink with the aim of a drunk toddler’ on stream that time.”

The air between us changed, all the little confessions that had gone unsaid until now dotting the silence like lightning bugs.

“Theo…”

He cut me off, voice rough. “Don’t. You don’t have to let me down easy. I know I’m not your type.”

That was so wrong it made me want to scream. Instead, I stepped all the way up to him and took the risk. “Will you shut up for one second? I’m trying to tell you I feel the same way.”

His head jerked up, wide-eyed. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me.” It was scarier than anything else I’d faced lately, this raw honesty, but I shoved through it. “I want all of you. All the different ways you make my life less impossible.”

Hope exploded in his expression, so overwhelming I almost had to look away.

“But Reid…”

“Reid is part of it, too. So are Jace and Ash and Malik.” I reached for his arm, fingers splayed over the muscles still tense as drawn wire. “I don’t want to choose between you. I finally figured out I don’t have to.”

He stared at me, like he was searching my face for any sign of a joke. When he found none, something fundamental in him shifted. “A real pack. Not just… coping. Not just business.”

“Exactly.” Relief rushed through me. “But to have that, it has to be balanced. Right now, it’s not.”

Theo’s nostrils flared, pupils wide as he caught my meaning. “You want to even it out.”

“I do. If you do. No pressure.”

He didn’t answer. He just closed the space in a blink, backing me against the countertop like the laws of physics didn’t apply, all feral need and pent-up tension.

“I’ve wanted to since the minute you walked in with your armor on and that ‘fuck off’ look in your eyes,” he said, voice gone deep and dangerous. “Even when you were pretending to hate our guts.”

“I never hated you,” I confessed, hands finding his arms for balance. “I was just… scared.”

“What of?”

I licked my lips, determined to see this through. “Of needing people. Of wanting things. Of being vulnerable, and risking not getting what I want.”

He went soft around the edges, gaze so steady it almost hurt. “And now?”

“Now I’m tired of pretending. Tired of fighting against what I want, what I care about.”

Whatever leash he’d been holding himself with snapped on the spot.

He crushed his mouth to mine, all rough edges and sharp angles, like he needed to memorize it before I changed my mind.

It wasn’t a romantic, gentle first kiss.

It was desperate, all teeth and hunger and the frantic need to make up for lost time.

He hoisted me up onto the counter, stepping in between my legs without ever breaking the kiss. His scent was everywhere, ozone and tea and that sharp Alpha kick screaming mine.

“Kara,” he breathed, “you’re running yourself ragged.” The words surprised me, sudden and serious, his lips running along my jaw. “You pretend you’re fine, but you’re not. The heat, the streaming, the tournaments... you don’t even give yourself a chance to heal.”

I jerked back, defensive. “I am fine.”

“No, you’re not. You’re just burning the candle at both ends to prove you’re still the same as before the suppressants. But you’re not. And that’s not a bad thing.”

His hands tightened at my hips, grounding. “You need to adapt. Let us help you instead of digging your heels in.”

Easy for you to say, almost came out, but I bit my tongue. Instead, I said, “You don’t get it. My body betrays me when I least expect it.”

“I don’t have to get it to care,” he said, eyes never leaving mine. “I just hate watching you run yourself down out of pride. Like you’re punishing yourself for something you had no control over.”

I swallowed, throat raw with a sudden rush of understanding. He was right, and I hated that he was right. I’d spent months driving myself into the ground, hanging on by my fingernails, because I couldn’t stand the idea of being less.

“I don’t know how to be this version of me,” I whispered. “I don’t know how to win like this.”

“Then let us help you figure it out.” His thumb brushed my cheek, gentle in a way I didn’t know he was capable of. “That’s what we’re here for, Kara. Not just for heat. For all the hard days.”

I couldn’t answer. Not with words, not right now. So I pulled him down for another kiss, everything I felt pouring out there instead.

He didn’t just lift me off the counter, he stole me from it, one strong arm under my thighs, the other braced around my back, holding me as if I weighed nothing. The movement was so fast, so sure, that my breath caught in a gasp.

The world blurred until my back hit the wall with a deep thud, the shock of it melting instantly into the delicious pressure of Theo’s body pressing me there. He didn’t step back. He didn’t give me an inch.

His palms gripped my thighs, keeping them hooked tight around his waist, and the heat pouring off him was enough to make my skin prickle.

The scent of him was everywhere, sharp, storm-lit ozone wrapped in that sweet undertone that was only Theo, flooding every breath I took. It made my head swim. Made me want to bury my face in his neck and never come up for air.

“Not very patient, are you?” My voice was teasing, but breathless against his lips.

“Not when it’s you,” he growled, the sound deep and rough enough to vibrate through my bones. His teeth grazed my throat, scraping over my pulse. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me .”

The truth was easy. “Want you,” I said, digging my nails into his shoulders. “Have for months. Want all of you.”

His gaze caught mine, pupils blown wide, his expression gone feral. “You want us all to claim you? Every last one?”