Koa returns first, arms full of pillows stripped from his bed. He already gave me one of his pillows but now he hasloads.
I chuckle. I didn’t really have him pegged as a fancy pillows kind of guy, but right now I’m grateful for it.
He doesn’t toss them. He places them carefully around the edges of the mattress, building structure. He doesn’t even seem to mind when I follow after him, readjusting everythingjust so.
Kai follows with an armful of hoodies and t-shirts, plus a blanket that very clearly came from his own room. “This one’s prime,” he says, tossing it toward me. “I haven’t washed it in days.”
“Charming,” Finn mutters, but there’s no edge in it.
I take the blanket anyway. It smells like salt and smoke and chocolate warmth, and when I drape it along one side of the nest, my body reacts instantly – a deeper breath, a subtle unclenching.
Perfect.
Finn disappears briefly and returns with two heavy duvets - one from Sol’s bed I think - and his own. He places another pillow near where my head will rest without comment.
Sol watches all of it with quiet intensity, eyes tracking every movement I make as I rearrange and adjust. He doesn’t seem as frustrated to be helping as I thought he would be. In fact, he seems pretty content to just watch me.
I don’t rush.
I tuck pillows upright to create walls. I layer blankets and clothing into thick, uneven ridges. I press my cheek against one section, then adjust it slightly, building instinctively until the shape feels right. Until it feels enclosed. Safe.
Mine.
“Water,” Koa says softly, reappearing with several bottles. “And sensible snacks,” he adds, placing protein bars and fruit within reach.
Kai makes a face. “Where’s the fun in being sensible?”
“Sugar crash mid-heat isn’t fun,” Koa replies calmly.
I smile faintly.
Kai drops the now-baked cookies onto the bedside table anyway. “Backup plan. Because I think if you try to feed our omega granola, she might revolt.”
Our omega.I like that. I like that alot.
Sol’s phone rings but Finn takes it from his hand before he can move, and steps out into the hallway to answer it, voice lowering into business cadence as he handles what must be fallout – the surf school, the staff, the fact that gunshots went off in the neighbourhood. He moves with quiet authority, containing the outside world so it doesn’t bleed into this room.
I love him for that. The outside isn’t allowed in here. This is our sanctuary, I’ve decided.
Sol hasn’t moved.
His gaze follows me as I adjust the final layer of fabric, then sit back on my heels.
The nest is substantial now. Sure, it’s not filled with fancy cushions and plush new blankets but it’s enveloped inthem.It’s perfect. Layered high on three sides. Thick with scent. Pillows forming a crescent around the centre.
Even with all the money in the world, this is all I’d want. Just them and their perfect summer scents and the feeling of completeness that they bring me.
My body hums with quiet approval and I flush with pride. I did that. I built a nest and it’s agoodone.
I crawl into it slowly.
The first touch of fabric against my bare skin sends a ripple through me – not sharp, not desperate – just deeplyright. I burrow instinctively, shifting blankets around my shoulders, pulling one of Kai’s hoodies closer and tucking Finn’s pillow beneath my head.
A soft, involuntary sound escapes me. Kai freezes mid-step. Koa’s mouth curves slightly. Sol’s jaw tightens.
I feel it. That look.
I beam at them. Not seductive. Not coy. Happy. So overwhelmingly happy.