13. Zara

I'm trying to keep my cool, but this is a bloody disaster. I haven't even got used to living in someone else's house and now there's going to be another person moving in? And not just any person, but Liam with his cheeky grins and flirty comments that I should not be responding to. But I am. Responding, that is. And it's not good.

"Right," I say, clapping my hands together as if that will physically bring order to the chaos now threatening to topple me. "What's the timeframe for this move?"

Liam's smile widens, and he leans back against the counter. "After work."

"What? That's no time to prepare!"

He walks over, a little too close for my racing heart, and lowers his voice. "I'm sure you'll make it more than accommodating." He winks before heading off toward the lounge as if he doesn't have a care in the world.

Once he's gone, I finish eating my toast, all while planning what needs to be done before his arrival. I haven't even ventured into the spare rooms to see what state they're in. Do they need bedding? And OH. MY. GOD!

The broken lock on the bathroom door needs fixing! I hadn't paid it much mind before now, knowing Benjamin has an en-suite and wouldn't be using it anyway. It was completely devoid of any toiletries, and even the bog roll had a layer of dust on it when I first got here. But now! Oh, no. This needs sorting as soon as possible. I'm not that handy with a screwdriver, but surely it can't be that hard, right?

Right.

I won't be caught on the loo or in the shower by Liam bursting in to do his business.

Part of me wishes Benjamin had at least given me a heads-up, but I guess this was the heads-up. It sounds like Benjamin didn't know either until Liam arrived this morning.

I finish my breakfast at record speed, the urgency to ‘make things accommodating' suddenly taking over my entire to-do list between taking care of Mia. I hurry upstairs, making a mental checklist of everything I'll need to do before Liam drags his alpha ass and all his baggage into this already crowded domestic scene.

"Hey," Ben says, and I glare at him.

He snorts. "Liam tell you he's moving in?"

"Yeah, you've just made a shit ton of work for me."

He frowns. "Fuck that. It's not a hotel. He can sort himself out later."

"Oh no," I say, shaking my head. "Not on my watch."

"He's not a guest. He's going to be chipping in and stuff."

"Did you know the lock on the bathroom door was broken?"

He shrugs. "I'll fix it."

Shaking my head, I say, "Go to work. I'll do it."

"Do you know how?" he inquires.

"I'll figure it out. Tools?"

"Under the stairs."

"Awesome."

He shakes his head and leaves me to it as I barge into the bedroom furthest from mine.

Taking it all in, I decide I can work with this.

I fling open windows for ventilation and search through the wardrobe for a duvet and pillows, which I find still wrapped in plastic. I unwrap them and shake them out, before searching through the linen cupboard at the end of the landing. Grabbing some spare covers, I quickly make up the bed and grabbing the duster and polish from the kitchen, I give the room a bit of a tidy.

Checking in on Mia, who is still sleeping, bless her little socks, I move onto the bathroom door lock situation. It's one of those simple internal locks, but it's completely jammed. Right, YouTube tutorial it is. I fetch Benjamin's toolbox from under the stairs. The man's got every tool under the sun but doesn't seem to have used any of them––and settle down with my phone for a quick crash course in basic DIY.

Armed with a modicum of newly acquired confidence and a screwdriver, I set to work on the lock mechanism. Half an hour later, after some muttered curses with my wrists aching, there's a click that sounds like victory. The lock turns smoothly in its casing when I test it.

"Ha!" I punch the air in triumph, my voice echoing, and then I clap my hand over my mouth, hoping I didn't wake Mia.

I check on her immediately, creeping into her room with the softness of a cat burglar. She's still fast asleep. I feel my chest swell with love for the little girl.

Once I'm sure she's okay, it's back to my list. I tiptoe out, closing the door gently behind me and head downstairs to tackle the next job on my list. God, there's so much to do, but now that the bathroom lock is fixed, I feel like bloody Superwoman! Not all heroes wear capes and there's no cheering crowd. What a fucking let down.

I start pottering around in the kitchen, cleaning up after breakfast, wondering how I'm going to approach this whole ‘Liam moving in' situation. A part of me is ready to take control of this whole fiasco, but another side––the side that blushes when he looks at me––is slightly panicked at the thought of sharing a living space with him.

I didn't get a chance to ask if I'm supposed to cook for him or leave him to his own devices. That doesn't feel right to me. It's in my contract that I make food for Benjamin. I'm happy with that, especially as it means one meal at a time, which I can then clean up after. If Liam saunters in with a different schedule, it's going to throw me right off kilter.

I decide to text Benjamin because, let's face it, I can't just stand around like a lemon, not knowing what the heck is going on. My thumbs fly across the screen with a rapid-fire message before I can second-guess myself.

Benjamin. Am I cooking for Liam, or what? I need details. Zara.

Sent.

The kettle whistles its shrill tune, and I jump, snapping my focus back to the here and now. Tea, that's what I need—a nice cuppa to steady the nerves.

As the tea steeps, Benjamin's reply pings through.

Whatever. Don't go out of your way.

Well, that's frustratingly vague. I take a sip of my tea, letting the warmth settle me.

My phone pings again. It's from Liam.

Feed me all the things.

Growling at the winky face, I inhale deeply. "Asshole," I murmur, but the smile tugging at my lips is hard to squash.

I've gone into panic mode because I'm nervous about being so close to an alpha who makes my omega purr inwardly. But now that I think about it, it will make getting to know him easier without having to sneak around. Maybe this is fate knocking.

I guess we'll find out.