Page 75 of Slick Trip

“You need to eat,” I said quietly.

Cooper blinked up at me, his eyes slightly glazed. “I already ate.”

I raised an eyebrow.

He sighed dramatically, but it was more like a tired huff. “A muffin totally counts if it has blueberries in it.”

I nodded toward the table. He muttered something under his breath about me being bossy, but the defiance lacked its usual bite. He went to sit, and I pulled his chair out first, my hand lingering on his shoulder as he settled. I liked the way his scent calmed the moment I touched him.

“Did you just pull out the chair for Coop?” Jack asked, looking incredulous. “Fuck, man. Is that an Alpha thing or just you being whipped?”

I ignored him.

“Have you thought about registering?” Mrs. Taylor asked Cooper. “Might be useful if you’re one of those Omegas with regular heats,” she continued. “So you’d be certified for sick leave.”

She turned to me, but nope, I was not ready to discuss a possible rut situation with Cooper’s mom.

“Apparently, there are oils and shit,” Jack said. “For heat anxiety,” he clarified. We all turned to stare at him, and he gave us a sheepish grin. “I did some research. I wanted to know what I can do to help if it gets bad,” he explained.

“You’re such a softie,” Cooper muttered, looking pleased despite himself.

“What about suppressants?” Mrs. Taylor asked. “They could help with separation anxiety and overprotective tendencies.”

“You’re overinterested,” Cooper said with a yawn.

“After you’ve eaten,” I said, leaning down so only he could hear me. “You’re going to rest. No arguing.”

I could see he was about to protest, so I added, “At my place.”

I watched his brain go somewhere very obvious and very dirty for a split second, and under different circumstances, I would’ve enjoyed the hell out of that. But then a deep, sleepy relief washed over him as he seemed to realize what my words meant.

He was coming home with me.

To the only place he belonged from now on.

26

The Rut

JON, a few weeks later

I woke in the middle of the night with a single purpose—to protect Cooper. It was promptly followed by another equally strong urge—to claim Cooper.

I sat up too fast, pulse racing, and looked to my right. Cooper was sleeping next to me. He looked peaceful, and not at all like he was in imminent danger.

But I needed to be sure.

I shuffled closer. Then a little closer. He opened his eyes to find me looming over him.

“Don’t move,” I rasped, my voice at least two octaves deeper than usual, and it hadn’t exactly been high to begin with.

“What? Why?” He looked alarmed and immediately tried to sit up.

“Stay here where it’s safe.”

He blinked. “What’s the danger?”

I paused. I didn’t actually know.