21. Henry

Liam and I are milling about the kitchen when Zara storms in with a massive bump on her head.

"Fuck," Liam murmurs, going to her and staring at it. "You've got a huge egg on your head."

"Thanks, asshole," she grumbles. "Is that what that splitting headache is all about?"

"How did you do that?" I ask, going over to her and taking her by the elbow to draw her over to a stool to sit.

"I ran into a door," she says.

Liam and I exchange a glance, which she sees and rolls her eyes at. "No, really. I ran into a door. It's fine. I'm okay."

"No, you look like you might be concussed," I say and go to the freezer. Searching, I can't find any frozen peas, but I do find something I can press to the bump.

"I'm not concussed," she says. "I know first aid. For adults, children and infants."

"So do I," I say, surprising her.

She purses her lips and narrows her eyes at me. "I'm still not concussed."

"Here, hold this on it," I instruct, holding up the pack of frozen vegetables to her head.

"Ow," she groans. "What the fuck is this? Broccoli?" She pulls it away and glares at it.

"Well, you didn't have peas and unless you want to hold some frozen chicken fillets to your head, this will have to do."

"It's all knobbly," she complains, but doesn't move it.

"Should've gone with the chicken," Liam pipes up, leaning on the island and gazing at her with a laugh. "You've already got an egg, so it would be fitting."

"How about you shut the fuck up?" she snarls.

"Ohh, feisty omegas are my favourite," he practically pants.

Shaking my head at him and giving her an apologetic smile, I lean in a bit closer and adjust the frozen broccoli. "Also, you do have that Mother Hen vibe going for you."

She glares at me, but then giggles. It's the sweetest sound. "I'm never going to live this down, am I?"

"Nope," I say. "Not while Liam's around anyway."

Her shoulders slump. "It hurts."

"I know. I'll get you some painkillers."

"In that cupboard up there," she says, pointing to one near the fridge.

I busy myself with popping two tablets out and getting her a glass of water.

"Thanks," she says when I hand them to her. "You smell nice." She blinks and frowns, but shakes her head and takes her pills. "Like fresh linen infused with bergamot."

I tilt my head. "Oh? That's a new one." Curious.

She stares at me for a second. "You didn't know you smelled like bergamot?"

"No, the fresh linen part. No one has ever said that before."

"Well, I guess they weren't smelling hard enough."

I chuckle. "Guess not." I move away from her, finding this conversation unsettling—not because of what she said, but because she is literally the only one who has said it. What does that mean? Does it even mean anything? I grab a tea towel and wet it with cold water. Wringing it out, I then take it over to her and remove the offending broccoli to replace it with the cloth.

Water drips down her face as she smiles and says, "Thanks. The broccoli was defrosting, so it wasn't so bad."

Liam looks between the two of us, his expression unreadable. "I need to go check in with work after I bolted. I'll be back in a few."

Taking over with the towel pressed to Zara's head, I lean in closer. Call me crazy, but I want her to breathe in my scent, and fuck, I need to breathe in hers. That lavender and honey combo is mouth-watering.

"You're very cool and reserved, Henry," she says. "Good in a crisis."

"Okay?"

"The three of you make a good team. Ben is growly and brooding, Liam is fun and flirty, and then there's you, cool and reserved."

"You make it sound really boring." I joke, not sure how I feel about her observations.

"It's not boring," she says, shaking her head and then wincing. "You're stable and pragmatic."

"Oh, this keeps on getting better," I murmur. If she calls me cute with a great personality, I'm going to go and hide under the duvet for a while.

"Omegas like that. They want someone they can rely on, you know?"

"Hmm."

"You don't agree?"

"I think I'd rather be called growly and brooding or fun and flirty."

"If wishes were horses…"

"Indeed. How's your head feeling now?"

"A bit better."

"It's going to hurt for a while. Maybe we should take you up to Urgent Care just to be on the safe side?"

"No, it's a two-hour round trip. I'm fine."

We settle into an easy silence, the kind that isn't awkward but comfortable—like a warm blanket on a chilly evening. She relaxes on the stool, the towel still pressed lightly against her forehead.

If she says she's fine, she's probably fine. Still, I can't help the protective surge that ripples through me. It's unfamiliar and surprising.

From the corner of my eye, I notice Liam slink back into the kitchen after his call. "Why don't you go up and make sure Ben is doing okay with Mia?" I ask him.

"Sure," he says, glancing between Zara and me.

Liam's expression is a mix of teasing and suspicion, as if he's caught onto something more than just my nursing duties. But he doesn't question it, just nods and disappears up the stairs.

Left alone with Zara, I'm acutely aware of the quiet that's settled between us. It's not uncomfortable—far from it. It's like we're both soaking up the tranquillity after the chaos of a minor injury.

Zara chuckles softly. "This house is starting to feel like a hazard zone."

"Maybe we need to wrap everyone in bubble wrap," I suggest, and her laughter brightens the room even more.

"Probably not the worst idea I've heard," she says and stands up.

She wobbles slightly, and I reach for her. "Let's get you to the couch. You can rest up a bit."

"Yeah, maybe that's not such a bad idea," she murmurs. She lets me help her into the lounge, and I settle her comfortably on the couch. "Tea? You were making some earlier."

"Please," she says. "Thank you, Henry. I appreciate the care."

"Anytime," I mutter, meaning it with every ounce of my being. This tiny omega with the huge bump on her head has wrapped her way around my lonely soul, and now I understand why Liam is so infatuated with her.

She is perfect.