Page 105 of The Omega Exchange: Omnibus (The Exchange)

Chapter Seventeen

Oliver

Following Melody’s heat, I wake up feeling clearer and more coherent than I have in two or three years.

I spend a few hours fixing code that’s been annoying the hell out of me. It’s like a fog has slowly started to dissipate. Things I could do before, that have been harder since I got my diagnosis, are now surprisingly easy again.

It’s close to ten-thirty when the red, glowing numbers on the clock catch my attention. I only planned to spend an hour or two finishing up some work before the others got up.

Pushing the chair back from my desk, I aim to find Mel.

The nest is empty.

I check both living rooms and am on the verge of texting someone, but I aim for Miller’s bedroom first.

Melody is knocked out on his chest. A giddy warmth fills mine.

She didn’t bolt following her heat.

Well, at least not yet.

If she does that’s fine, I’m flexible on living locations. Texas is hotter than the world’s armpit, but I’ll survive if she’s fond of it.

I grimace.

I’m not one of those people who handle heat or sweat well, but I can always stay indoors and make sure we’ve got the best air conditioning money can buy.

Miller is awake and typing something out on his phone.

“She’s not feeling well,” he whispers, running his free hand over her back. “But she said my scent settled her stomach . . .” He quietly goes through the events of the morning. “I’ve got to check in with the shit show downstairs. Will you stay with her?”

“Of course,” I agree, “are you going to move her to my room or?”

“I don’t want to risk waking her, but once she wakes up you can ask her what she wants to do.” He nods for me to come over. It’s a slow process as he carefully removes himself from under her, rolling her to face the middle.

I climb into the spot he vacated. He gives a wave and heads out without another word.

Melody rolls over and blinks, rubbing at her eyes when she notices I’m not Miller.

“Morning,” she mumbles, rubbing her face against my chest.

“Miller has some work he’s got to get done, but I’m here. Get some more sleep if you need to.” I kiss her forehead.

“Am I keeping you from working?”

“No, I caught up on everything I needed to for the day. How about you?” I snuggle closer to her. My system doesn’t like any space between us, and I’m strangely okay with that.

“I’ve got a deadline in two weeks and . . .” Her eyes widen almost comically. “Holy crap, I lost five or six days of that. Oh no.”

I frown.

I understand that feeling of pressure to meet performance deadlines, but she’s still recovering from her heat and possibly an illness or something more.

“Is there any way I can help?” I have to at least offer.

“You’re good with computers?” she asks, rubbing her hand over my heart.

“Yeah, it’s kind of my thing.” I shrug because I don’t want to sound cocky, but I’m sure I can do whatever she needs done.

“Do you think if I dictated a couple of scenes that you could type it out for me?” she asks. Her eyes clench closed, and I frown even harder. “I’m a little afraid to stare at my computer screen when even keeping my eyes open is tough.”

“I can definitely do that.” My chest puffs up.

Could I set her up with some high-tech talk-to-text software?

Oh, absolutely.

Am I going to?

No fucking way.

I’m going to figure out her pen name and read all her books so I can see if I can get any clues or hints to what she finds romantic and use it to my advantage.

I’d also really like to read the sexy scenes she’s dreamed up. Hell, I’ll gladly offer to recreate any she’s having trouble getting the logistics right on. It’s clear her career is important to her.

I intend to be the most supportive boyfriend on the planet. And not just because being around her is giving me hope that I won’t end up feral and need to be put down.

I really fucking like her. I love that she never makes me feel like I’m weird even when I say things other people know not to say.

I’m going to study her through her writing and then be the perfect hero from every one of her books.

Okay, that might require split personalities . . . But there are three of us.

“It won’t be weird?” she asks, frowning at my chest. “Do you promise you won’t pick on me even if it’s kind of cheesy?”

I chuckle. “I promise. What I can’t guarantee is that I won’t get a hard on if you start saying sexy things. I mean, shit that wasn’t very romantic. Are we dating? Can we date? I want to woo you.”

Her hand slides over my chest and across my stomach. My cock jumps in response, but now is not the time.

“You really want to court me?” she asks.

“Yes, courting. That’s the word I was supposed to use. Wait, is that different from dating? We go on dates and I buy you stuff and we see how things go? That’s what I would like to do. Do you want that too?”

“Yeah,” she says, chuckling. “I think I do.”

Melody and I spend several hours learning how to work together. I quickly pick up on the fact that she has one voice when she’s testing something out and another when she wants me to type it.

My favorite is when she brainstorms for the male character, she rambles aloud in her impression of his voice, and it’s fucking adorable.

Carver pops his head in Miller’s door sometime in the early afternoon. He’s got a tray of food and a smirk that makes me want to snarl at him to get out.

Shit, I probably should have fed her lunch by now.

Having a girlfriend is harder than a goldfish. I ignore the fact that my mom ended up repossessing the fish when I forgot to feed it for several days.

He lived, I’m not a monster.

I occasionally forget to feed myself too.

I set my laptop aside and pull out my phone. I quickly schedule daily reminders for mealtimes so I never accidentally forget to feed Melody again.

This is why packs are a good thing since I’ll likely manage to miss the alarms at some point.

“Are you okay?” Melody asks, patting my thigh.

“I should have considered that you didn’t keep down much breakfast. I never thought to offer to order us lunch.” I cross my arms over my chest and glance at Carver, who is busy stretching across the end of the bed. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” he says, nodding to the tray. “There’s a grilled cheese, a turkey sandwich, and a few other things. Do you think you can keep something down?”

Melody looks like she’s contemplating exactly that as she sits up against Miller’s pillows. “Yeah, I hope so.”

Melody takes the grilled cheese, but she only nibbles at it. The three of us eat in Miller’s bed, which I find funny because he’d kill Carver and me for doing the same thing if Melody wasn’t involved.

We’re just finishing up when Carver grins dangerously. “Are you still going to let me take you out some time?”

She’s still got half her sandwich left. I think it’s in poor taste to push the issue while she’s unwell, but also, I did ask to court her earlier, so I keep my mouth shut.

“Is there anywhere to go on a date during this time of year?” Melody asks, giving Carver a smile that makes me jealous.

“I guess you’ll just have to put a little faith in me.” He winks.

Melody chuckles. “Yeah, I think I’d like that Mr. Carver.”

He looks at me and smirks. “Don’t be jealous. You can plan a date on your own night.”

“You’re not taking her anywhere until the weather clears up,” I growl.

Melody jumps at the sound, and I instantly feel like an asshole.

“Damn, you’re on edge.” Carver laughs. “That’s why I said some time. All right, if we’re done, I’m going to take this tray back.”

He gathers up the remaining stuff, and right as he’s about to head out the door, he turns back. “Call me if you plan to workout.” He grins. “I’d really like to see you in those tight-ass workout pants again.”

Melody laughs and snuggles into my side.

“You do seem like you’re doing better than you were this morning,” I muse, rolling slightly to face her.

“Yeah,” she agrees around a yawn. “But I’m beat. It’s weird, I’m never this exhausted after a heat.”

My mind races with the possibility of what that could mean. It could be nothing, or it might be something totally life changing. I know from the research I did that we won’t be able to find out this soon. It’s one of those things where only time will tell.

My mom ranted and raved for years that I stopped taking naps before I turned three. I was an active kid because my brain never shut off. As an adult, I think I can count the number of times I’ve napped during the day on one hand. That’s not including when I’m up for days and then crash.

But as Mel runs her fingers over my chest I will myself to be normal.

I can do normal things like nap in the day with a beautiful woman . . .

Right?

Yeah, I can if I want to.

I breathe in deep lungfuls of Melody’s scent. It’s not as strong as right before her heat hit, but it’s still the most amazing scent I’ve ever smelled. I pull her closer with a hand on her back and wish I wasn’t so damn bony.

It feels like it takes years before I manage to start purring, but when I do, she lets out an adorable sigh as she wiggles closer.

See, I can be totally normal even if I have to lie here and pretend to sleep rather than actually accomplish it. I still can’t imagine a more peaceful moment in time.