Page 61 of Secret Heart
I rest my chin on my arm and look out over the lake, counting the small ripples that distort the moon’s reflection. Another owl calls out, closer than the last. Exhaustion slowly sinks through my limbs and into my chest, muffling everything in my head and heart. Another few minutes, and maybe I’ll be able to settle back against Beau next to Penny where she’s sleeping in a travel cot.
Vanilla wraps around me, thicker and warmer than any flannel. All at once, the exhaustion leaves, my heart strung up tight all over again.
Chapter Thirty-Three
TRISTON
Ihold my breath, begging my body to not respond quite yet. Emily’s silent as a wraith as she sits beside me, her legs dangling over the edge in mirror of mine. Her feet are bare, and she’s only wearing the small slip she’d put on after Beau and I had both eaten her out long after Penny was asleep. A thick fleece blanket I’d brought from my nest covers her legs. The moon illuminates her face in pale light and soft shadows, leaching the color from her cheeks and eyes. Her focus is on something out on the lake—or something I can’t see at all.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
I shake my head.
“It’s all right.” I keep my voice the same quiet, not wanting to interrupt the night. “It’s… all of this is a lot happening all at once. We never meant for that summer to be more than orgasms.”
She smiles just a bit. “Intentions don’t really matter compared to impact.”
I don’t know what to say to that.
Silence falls between us, heavier than a ton of bricks and more smothering than the thickest of blankets. I don’t knowwhat to say to her, how to bridge the physical and emotional distance that’s still between us.
Maybe there’s not a way to bridge it, close it. Maybe this will be our dynamic. My stomach clenches, but I swallow down a more visceral reaction. So many Omegas have worse relationships than this. And who am I to hold it against her? Even if the fact I wasn’t here for the pregnancy and when she was struggling with postpartum anxiety might be something we’ve mostly navigated, there’s still all the attention and paparazzi and parasocial fanatics. There hasn’t been a day since she went with me to the Haven that some video or article hasn’t been posted about her.
“I’m scared,” she admits after a while.
I focus on her, resting my cheek on my knee. Tears line her lashes, and the column of her throat moves with her heavy swallow. Vanilla surrounds me again, tinged with fear just like last night.
“Of me leaving?”
It’s the logical answer. There’s a reason why most of the men on the circuit are single or divorced. Only one in the last five years has been registered with a pack, and they went though a dissolution during the height of the season last year. The travel is intense, and the circuit isn’t the type of environment that rewards fidelity. It’s probably part of why Omegas are so uncommon, especially in bull riding—outside of the loud noises and constantly changing arenas.
She frowns and shakes her head.
A bit of warmth loosens my stomach.
“Of losing you.” She’s so quiet, the crickets nearly drown out the words. “It’s not logical. But then none of my anxiety around Penny was ever logical, either.”
A lump forms in my throat. Slowly, I reach across the six inches between us and take her hand. Goosebumps race up her arm as I run my thumb over her knuckles.
“Tell me about it?” I ask, just as quiet.
She breathes in heavily and then slowly blows it out. Then she tightens her hold on my hand. Her vanilla lashes out. I soak in the scent, free of the fear and tinged with determination instead. Like she would always smell right before laying me out on her bed and making me see stars. I swallow a groan the memories drag up.
“I’m scared that registering will make it all fall apart. That… that by signing the paperwork and letting the world know that we’re a pack, that you’ll have a horrible ride or the Highlands cow that has it out for Beau will truly mess him up.” She shrugs and shakes her head. “It’s not logical.”
“That’s okay,” I murmur. “Whether it’s logical doesn’t change the fact that it’s real.”
“Ethan talked me through it this morning.”
I can’t help but smile. “That must have been mortifying.”
She scrunches her nose. “You have no idea. I now know way more about his tattoos than anyone ever should.”
“His tattoos?”
What would they have to do with Emily talking through her worry of our relationship falling apart?
“Yep.” She pulls her hair over her shoulder. “I now know most of them are places he’s knotted Brielle.”
