Sugar Coated

39

Delaney Linwood

    I was still dripping every once in a while after Andres finally hauled me out of bed and subsequently off of Em's sweater. As soon as I thought about the sweater my cheeks were flaming. What the fuck was I thinking?

    I stared at the light pink fabric clenched in Andres' hand. He'd hefted my bag over his shoulder and walked me out of my apartment as if he hadn't just railed me within an inch of my life. I surreptitiously sniffed at my hair. I could only pick up the scent of Em's chocolate, but I wondered if the alphas we'd passed in my hallway could pick up the scent of sex on us.

    They hadn't commented though.

    Andres opened the door to the SUV for me before loading my bag in the back. I kept my hands primly in my lap, doing my damndest not to wring them like a wet dishrag.

    When he hopped into the driver's side it let in a waft of the cool wet air of the overcast day and it felt good against my burning cheeks. The sweater he dropped into my lap, didn't help though.

    "Hold that for me sweetheart," His hand hit the headrest of my seat while he craned to look behind us while he navigated the car out of the parking garage and onto the street.

    I delicately unfolded the sweater, assessing the damage. It can't be that bad right?

    It was bad.

    A very wet...very creamy...spot.

    I folded it again, fast enough that I caught the movement of Andres glance out of my peripherals.

    "What's wrong?"

    I picked at the fabric, the dry part of it anyway. Not sure how to voice what I was feeling. Half of me was desperate to keep the damn sweater, to pretend I'd lost it.

    "Are you worried?"

    That was probably at least a good part of it. I'd never done well with change so the fact that I was walking into a new situation would color my anxieties. "Yes."

    "If you're worried about the sweater, don't be. He'll love it. I promise."

    "You promise?" I would beg Andres to be telling me the truth right now because something felt weirdly tight in my chest and I didn't know what it was.

    Andres' sharp features softened and his eyes crinkled at the sides, his face familiar enough with the expression that they followed the faint lines you could sometimes catch on him in the right lighting. "With the breeding comes nesting. He's been in a foul temper over it even more so than his first few heats. He'll grab any nasty old clothes off the floor and they'll disappear. He made me cream my jeans about two weeks ago because he likes to tease when he's mad...I haven't seen those pants since. I guarantee you that as soon as he catches a hint of that sweater on the breeze it will disappear, shoved under some random ass cushion in his nest and we won't find it until we deep clean after his heat. You immediately coming into our pack with a gift of your scent for his nest? He'll lose his mind."

    I blew out a breath, feeling my chest lighten. When Andres explained it that way it made sense.

    I ran the sleeve of the sweater between my fingers. I'd still miss it though.

    Andres parked in the back alley, the very same one I'd been perusing when he'd found me in the back room with the jukebox, and I found myself staring again, this time at the pretty wooden door that was technically the front door to their pack space as he unlocked it for me.