Page 212 of Just Wait

I’m hoping I go back to feeling more like myself once the heat passes. It took some time, but I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’ve presented as an omega. There’s literally no other explanation for how I’m still alive.

The highest temperature they’ve recorded for me is 111.3, but apparently omegas can experience temperature spikes up to 112. It’s only an emergency if said fever doesn’t come down to below 110 after knotting or it persists for longer than two hours. Luckily mine came down with lots of orgasms, alpha cum, and being knotted repeatedly.

From what the guys have said, I have longer periods of lucidity than they were told to expect, but when the fog hits, it hits hard.

It’s scary to have huge chunks of time missing from my memory. If I didn’t trust Riser, Mal, and Kincaid, it would be terrifying.

I better understand why they tell omegas to only surround themselves with people they trust during a heat.

The main problem is that every time I think the waves are over, another hits with a vengeance. The guys are exhausted, and I feel terrible about wearing them out.

I’m going to try to focus on staying upbeat, though. I’ll do my best to make it up to them once the waves finally come to an end.

I’m just worried they won’t get to enjoy their break at all. Then they’re going to have to report back for the second leg of the tour, and I don’t want them to be resentful that they missed out on actually resting.

Once my brain is working a little better, I’m going to put all my focus into writing songs for them. I want to create the kind of music other musicians would kill to have access to.

I wake up surrounded by my naked guys. Under normal circumstances, I might try my luck for a foursome. Only, I’m pretty well tired of dick at the moment, so I bring my happy ass out to the living room to try to work.

The suite we moved to when the guys wanted to give me access to a nest is much smaller than the cabin, but it’s cozy.

The room has a king-size bed, an attached bathroom, and a nest. The only other space in the suite is the living room, which has a desk with a pad of paper and pen.

That’s all I really need.

Instruments and my notebook would make it easier, but I’m down to go old-school style. I just really need to feel productive.

Being an omega is something that I dreamed about for a long time. Knowing I can fully meet their sexual needs and that I don’t have to worry about losing them to another omega is a gift.

There are also parts of presenting that are overwhelming. I don’t want to lose myself or stop doing the things that I love.

If I had thought ahead, I could have brought my phone out with me. I hate typing out lyrics, but this pad of paper is so small that I write extra tiny and really think through if it’s something I want to put down.

About an hour after I sit in front of the coffee table, Riser comes out into the living room. He pulled on sweats but didn’t bother with a shirt. It makes me happy that he doesn’t make it a point to hide his scars in front of me.

“Hey,” I say, smiling as I drop the pad of paper and pen on the coffee table.

“I woke up, and you were gone,” he grunts, crossing the room. “I was worried. Whatcha doing?” He climbs onto the couch behind me and stretches out, resting his head on a throw pillow.

“Just seeing if I can get a little work in before the next wave hits.” I smile at him over my shoulder. “Damn, Ry. You look beat. You can go back to bed.”

He yawns, shaking his head. “Nah, I’ll keep you company.” Stretching out a hand, he rests it on my back, digging his thumb in like he’s searching for a knot.

His eyes fall shut, and my teeth push into my lower lip as I study him.

He’s so freaking sweet.

And comforting.

Just an all-around good man.

The fluttering in my stomach probably means that I’m in deep shit, but we’re bonded. The whole goal is to fall in love and build a life together, even if it is crazy fast.

It’s surprising to realize, but I actually miss being on the bus. Maybe Mal was right when he said I view the bedroom on the bus as my makeshift nest.

Watching them perform every night is an amazing incentive to get back on the road. Hopefully this means that I’m better suited for this life than I originally thought.

They’re incredibly talented musicians, and the fans deserve to see Liminal perform live. I won’t let my new designation interfere with that. It might take some getting used to, but I’m going to do my best to not be a hindrance to their careers.