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I’m so glad tomorrow’s my day off. I couldn’t face work after this.
Fuck it. I’m taking the rest of the afternoon to build myself a nest and masturbate until I pass out from dehydration, and then I’m going to order enough takeout to feed a small army and then live in regret for spending the money.
Actually, that sounds perfect.
Just like last night, Dash and Quinn break apart, though Quinn is still carrying my basket like a prized possession as he looks for threats. I snort. He will find plenty of threats in this little neighborhood. The old brick buildings are literally falling apart and are one storm away from complete dilapidation. I only hope it takes me with it.
“You live here?” Malachi’s hand falls to his hip, his eyes scanning the block of apartment buildings.
“Yep.” I inhale the scent of garbage in the hot afternoon sunlight that perfectly masks my orange Creamsicle scent. “Don’t you love the smell?”
Malachi grimaces, clearly not appreciating the olfactory ambiance. “It’s…unique.”
Dash nudges him. “I think he means it’s a dump.”
“Charming,” I mutter. “I wasn’t aware alphas were so delicate.”
“We’re not,” Malachi counters, his gaze sharp. “But we do have standards.”
“Well, welcome to my low standards,” I say, a touch of bitterness creeping into my voice. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”
Quinn’s eyes soften as he looks around. “You shouldn’t have to live like this.”
“It’s all I can afford,” I snap back, my patience wearing thin. “Not all of us can live in fancy houses or wherever it is you come from.”
Dash steps in, trying to defuse the tension. “We didn’t mean to insult you, Aria. We’re just concerned.”
“Concerned?” I let out a harsh laugh. “You’ve known me for less than a day. What do you have to be concerned about?”
Malachi takes a step closer, his expression earnest. “Because we see someone who deserves better.”
I blink, taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, I’m tempted to let my guard down and believe they truly want to help, but then I remember my reality and the walls come back up.
“Well, thanks for the concern, but I’m fine.” I walk up to the entrance of my building, the door creaking ominously as I push it open. “You can leave the laundry there. I’ll take it from here.”
Quinn hesitates, clearly reluctant to let go of the basket. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” I say firmly, taking the basket from his hands. His fingers brush against mine, and a spark of something passes between us. I ignore it, focusing instead on the safety of my dingy apartment.
Dash leans against the doorframe, a mischievous grin on his face. “You know, we could help you carry it upstairs and make sure you get settled in okay.”
My hormones love the sound of that.
“I think I can manage,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady, “but thanks for the offer.”
Malachi’s eyes narrow slightly. “We’ll wait here then. Just to be sure.”
I roll my eyes. “Suit yourselves, but don’t expect a thank you for something I didn’t ask for.”
“We’re not doing it for thanks,” Malachi replies simply.
With that, I turn and make my way up the narrow, creaky, open-air stairs. I feel their eyes on me the entire way, but I refuse to look back. Reaching my apartment, I fumble with the keys, my hands shaking slightly. Once inside, I lean against the door, taking a moment to catch my breath.
Why are they so insistent? What do they really want from me?
My apartment is a small, cramped space, but it’s mine. I set the laundry basket down and head straight to the window, peeking through the curtains. Sure enough, the alphas are still there, talking amongst themselves.
I watch as Dash punches Malachi playfully on the arm, while Quinn glances up at my window, concern etched on his face. They look so out of place here in my world.
