Page 34

Pepper Vines

Morning slips into the attic nest through the window facing the channel. I blink awake to silver first, then pale gold, brushing across the draped tablecloths overhead and catching in the string lights until the whole room looks assembled from soft fabric and river air.

I smile, amused by my own instinctual choices.

The smile lasts until my body reports in. I’m tender between my thighs, deliciously heavy in my limbs, and sore in places that make memory bloom bright enough to heat my face. I’ve had sex before, but never like this. Heat turns every sensation brighter.

Ezra’s mouth. Theo’s hands. Ezra inside me while Theo held us both.

I press my cheek deeper into the gray hoodie beneath my face and breathe in clean linen, sea salt, and crisp apple. Ezra’s scent is threaded through the nest, tangled with Theo’s leather and bourbon warmth, my blue blanket from home, the faint green damp of the porch plants, and the peppermint-vanilla-rosemary perfume still rising from me in lazy waves.

I wanted them. I still do. The realization is less frightening in daylight than I expected. It feels like finding a plant that survived a storm and discovering it has new growth.

A quiet breath stirs behind me. Ezra is asleep on his side, one hand tucked beneath his cheek. He is fully solid. His brown hair falls over his forehead, and there’s a crease from the blanket along his jaw. I watch his fingers rest against the mattress, present and wonderfully real after everything his body has taken from him.

“Good morning, professor.”

I squeak.

Ezra’s eyes open, blue and amused with softness around the edges. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I was conducting visual confirmation.”

“Of my face?”

“Your solidity.”

“Tragic. I was hoping you were cataloging my dashing looks.”

“It was also noted.”

His smile changes, turning quietly pleased.

A purr rolls from the far side of the nest.

Theo is awake too. He lies on his back with one arm bent behind his head, watching both of us with sleepy heat in his hazel eyes. The morning light touches the dark geometric tattoos along his forearm and the broad slope of his chest.

My omega gives a happy little internal clap before a small purr vibrates from my chest.

Theo’s gaze drops to my mouth. “How do you feel, little rabbit?”

“Happy.” The word escapes first. I take a more careful inventory. “Tender. Warm. Hungry. Slightly scandalized by myself. Extremely hydrated in spirit, though not in practice.”

Ezra reaches behind him and produces my water bottle. Full.

I sit up enough to take it, dizzy only for a second. “You refilled it again?”

“My position in this pack is clear.”

The word pack sends a fizzy thrill through me.

Theo notices the way my scent lifts, but he only sits up and reaches for the washcloth beside the mattress. “Bathroom first. Then food.”

“I would like to walk.”

Concern shifts across his face. It’s quiet, but big, and already arranging risks in order.

“I’m not going far,” I add. “I just want to stretch my legs. My body feels like it got rewritten overnight.”