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Unfortunately, we’re in the middle of a pivotal moment here.
I turn her gingerly, waiting for her luminous blue eyes to land on mine. “What do you want?” I murmur.
Our gazes trace over one another. The smallest, cutest smile twists her pink lips. “You,” she whispers. “I want you, Archer. Your brilliant mind, your careful hands, the way you listen. I want all of those things forever.”
She doesn’t say I love you, but why would she need to? She’s just given me so much more than that.
She stretches up and kisses me, melding our mouths just long enough to leave me winded. With one last flash of her smile, she turns to Ronan. The look on her face is nothing short of rapturous.
“And you,” she breathes. “The way you defend and protect me. The way you provide for me like it’s as necessary to you as air.” Her mouth tilts impishly. “All of our games, and the way they really aren’t games at all.”
I’ve never seen the look on Ronan’s face before. Soft and electric at the same time. He seems to pause, his eyes sketching over her face like he just doesn’t know what to do with the strength of his feelings. He settles for pressing his forehead to hers, sighing. “Goddamn, Meg. You have me.”
Meg leans up just long enough to tease his mouth with hers. A second later, she turns in our arms, facing the bed.
Theo is a wretched specimen. Bent over his spread knees, breathing hard, still wearing his grass-stained game gear and covered in dry sweat. His hair is matted into a bun at the back of his neck. He scrubs his hands over his face again and again. I see the moment Meg realizes he’s crying, too.
She goes to him, floating down to her knees. Her small hands slide up his chest to cup his jaw.
“And you, Theo.”
His head snaps up, disbelief and guilt covering his features. “Meg, I fucked this all up so bad today. This is all my fault. I can’t believe I was so stupid?—”
To my surprise, Meg nods. “I’m mad about what you did today,” she tells him. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. It doesn’t mean I don’t want you just as much as I want them.”
Her smile is a tremulous, warm thing. “You’re my big guy. I want your excitement and your optimism. The way you want me and accept me even when I’m at my absolute worst. The joy you give to everyone you meet. There’s no one like you, Theo.” Her grin grows. “Besides, finders keepers, remember?”
Theo makes a choking, gasping sound, ripping Meg off the ground and crushing her to his chest. “Fuck,” he exhales. “I thought you would hate me for this.”
Meg smooths her touch over his hair, not caring how sticky he must be. “Never,” she vows, sweet and quiet. “Never ever, big guy.”
Theo moves to kiss her carefully, giving her plenty of time to pull away. When she doesn’t, he tenderly brushes his lips over hers. “Tell me again,” he begs, squeezing his eyes shut.
Meg scent-marks his cheek with hers, the gesture more touching than any words. I choose you, it says. Even now. “I love you, Theo.”
He visibly shudders. She gives his beard a tiny tug until he meets her eyes. “You must be hungry. We’ll have dinner in an hour, okay?” she says, her voice soothing. “Archer can order something that will be easy on Declan’s stomach. Ronan will get a statement out for the team to let everyone know Declan is recovering. Go start my shower and I’ll come wash you off, baby.”
He nods, swallows thickly, and then walks off. I watch him go, catching Ronan’s silver eyes as I turn. He stares at Meg with an odd look on his face. It takes me a moment to realize she’s just put him out of a job, ordering Theo around and deciding when the pack will gather for a meal.
A flush colors Meg’s cheeks when she reaches the same conclusion. She gapes at Ronan. “Oh. Sorry. Sir.”
I laugh. Ronan flashes me a glower that quickly cracks into a half-smile. “I guess our omega has finally figured out who’s really in charge around here, huh?” A swell of pride fills his face. “Smart girl.”
chapter
fifty-eight
I wake up with the memory of Meg’s hands washing me at the front of my brain. Only twelve hours later, and I already know we created a core memory under the steamy spray.
The way she beamed up at me. Her soft, sweet touches. The kisses I stole from her lips until she giggled.
Both of us were too wrung out for sex. It was almost better that way. We both needed the connection more than we needed anything physical.
After she scrubbed every inch of my body, Meg listened while I told her about my fight with Declan. She held me under the water, letting me bend almost in half to rest my face against her shoulder. It was easier for me to talk that way, spilling my tears of shame against her neck instead of all over her face.
When I finally got it all out, she hugged me for a long time. Long enough for me to believe that she meant what she said—she was mad about I did. But she still loves me.
It was the best shower of my life; and when we both came out, all pink-skinned from an hour under the hot water, the guys had dinner laid out on a big tray in the middle of our bed.
