39. Amaya

39

AMAYA

“ W hat's your favorite flavor?" I ask Vincent while he rinses out a dirty bowl.

"Lavender," he replies without missing a beat.

I scoff. "No, seriously, what syrup do you like in your coffee?"

It turns out my alpha likes his coffee sweet, just like I do. Or fancy, as he likes to call it. He's fucking adorable. I never knew someone with neck tats could be adorable.

"No seriously," he teases with a panty dropping grin. With the faucet turned off, he ambles over to me and licks his lips. "Lavender is my favorite flavor."

I narrow my eyes and lean back a little so I can argue properly. "Is that a real thing?"

Darting forward, his tongue takes a long swipe up my throat, making me squeal and bat him away. His dark chuckle heats my core while the wetness left behind sends shivers down my arms.

"Caramel macchiato," he rumbles, his thumb tugging on the collar of my shirt a little. I frown, not understanding, a little too entranced by his mouth now. "My favorite fancy coffee is an iced caramel macchiato. But I am definitely gonna enjoy some lavender in the morning with my coffee someday."

Ding dong .

Motherfuckers!

I'm starting to get used to the sound of my doorbell. It no longer makes me jump or gives me anxiety, but right now it's the most infuriating cock-block. We haven't done anything sexually, but I hate that they've interrupted our moment. At this point, nothing really gets a reaction out of me except for Vincent.

I could be starving or on my deathbed and I don't think I would really notice. But my alpha? He's hurting. Vincent's emotions and scent swirl around me constantly every day—he's the main thing I'm aware of—especially when he's being all yummy.

I know it's my fault he's struggling. We only met like three weeks ago and now he's stuck dealing with all my bullshit. Two of said bullshits are on the other side of the door I refuse to open, making my alpha have to handle my issues once again.

I've stopped running away from Emmett and Oliver when they show up, which has been at least six times in the last four days since their first visit. Instead of going upstairs, I twist in my spot on the kitchen counter to see Vincent open the door.

He had been teaching me how to make his grandma's zucchini bread. Well, more like I was just content to watch him and listen to his voice while he bustled around.

Vincent's lemony scent flares in dominance as he grunts a greeting. A shiver racks my body at the display, but I quickly shake it off. He stands off to the side enough for me to see the alpha and beta on my front porch.

Emmett's black hair shines in the afternoon light, making the shadow of his scruff more pronounced. His hair style is the norm right now, short on the sides and longer up top, but with his plump lips and eyes full of emotion as he searches me out make him anything but plain.

He's beautiful.

Oli pops up on his toes to look for me, his yellow T-shirt catching my attention like I'm sure he planned. Like when we were kids, his curly brown hair is wild around his forehead and ears.

The breeze picks up their mixture of fresh cut grass and minty freshness, causing me to stiffen.

‘ Mates?’

My omega prods me, trying to find out where I stand with them. I don't have anything to give her. There is no standing. Sure they've come over asking for me every day, but I haven't given myself to them. Not even a single hello has passed my lips.

"Hi Amaya." Emmett's voice is strong, just like his presence. "Vincent," he nods to him in greeting.

My alpha doesn't say anything. Instead, he crosses his arms and leans against the door frame. A small smile curls my lips. I love his respectful protectiveness. I thought he might go apeshit seeing them since my nightmare, but he has followed my cues as miniscule and silent as they may be. With Vincent resting on the doorframe, I can see Oliver more clearly now. My smile falls as his rises.

"You still prefer countertops over chairs, huh?" Oli teases.

‘ Mates?’

Vincent softens his gaze on me in question. I don't even need to shake my head or mouth the word no for him to know what I need.

"Time to go," Vince grunts and steps to block their view of me.

The oven timer beeps, so I hop down, ignoring the hushed whispers coming from the doorway. Pulling the two loaves of bread out, I take a deep breath and enjoy the way it covers all scents of the three men behind me. I place them on the counter and pad away. They'll need to cool down before I can try it, and my nest is calling my name.

My omega titters in my mind, making me a little anxious. Time for a nap.

Ding dong.

If I could sigh any deeper, I might just blow the fucking house down.

Six days since I screamed the neighborhood down, and I'm starting to feel again thanks to the alpha and beta determined to wake me up from every nap.

Vincent's steps falter when he notices me throwing my blanket off and stomping behind him to the door. "You sure?" he murmurs for my ears only.

I shrug. "We'll see."

I might be annoyed with the disturbances, but I don't know these men. Not anymore. An unknown alpha and beta near my nest, no matter our history, doesn't give me much leeway to attempt to trust them.

Staying two steps behind Vincent, he opens the door and blocks me from view. Similarly, I can't see Oliver or Emmett, which gives me a moment to collect myself before I make myself known.

"Vincent," Emmett greets like usual.

Oliver bypasses pleasantries. "How is she?"

Vincent and I don't actually talk about how I want him to handle the guys when they come over. While he lets me decide if I see them, Vince still gives them a little information. I feel like that's crossing a line, but I haven't cared much to say anything.

Now? After multiple ruined naps this week, I don't want my alpha speaking for me. It may have been the easy route while I come to terms with the fucked up life I've lived, but I'm cranky enough to deal with these assholes myself.

Nudging my scent match to the side, I peek around him with glare. " She's tired," I huff.

Their eyes widen at the first words I've spoken to them in five years. If only they knew how deep that statement actually goes.

"Are you not sleeping well?" Oliver worries.

I narrow my gaze, still half hiding behind a rumbling Vincent. "Every nap I've had, my doorbell rings."

"Oh," the beta mumbles, cringing.

Emmett nudges Oliver and clears his throat. "Maya, can we talk to you? Please ?"

Sass sizzles in my veins, begging to be unleashed on the men who've hurt me, but before I can say aren't we talking right now , Kate's car pulls into my driveway, followed by Paul's.

I release a soft groan and slam my forehead into Vincent’s back in defeat.

"I'm sorry, little mate." Vince turns and tucks me into his side. He places a kiss on top of my head and explains, "I wasn't gonna be able to hold them off forever."

I nod and release a sigh. I knew this was coming. I've been silent and obviously struggling for weeks, then the cops were called. I'm shocked the suicide watch didn't show up sooner.

"Who's that?" Emmett growls.

As I step around him and Oliver on my porch, Vincent responds for me. "Her dad. The other two would be Kate and Beckett. Check-in supports from rehab, and our friends."

"Oh fuck !" Oliver gasps. "Is that Beckett? Shit, Em, he's going to kill us."

I ignore his dramatics and the fact that he knows Beckett. I have bigger problems; convincing everyone I'm just fucking fine.