He's avoiding looking at me again.
I hope to the gods above I'm not visibly reacting. I'm not afraid of him at all, obviously, but itisjarring to my stupid instinctive omega hindbrain. When I'm under enough stress, a fucking shadow on the wall is enough to make my inner omega want to dive into a primordial burrow.
"Good," Orion manages. Then, quieter, "That was good."
"Again?" I ask.
He nods.
We do it over and over. I become an expert at this, even with him flinching again and turning his head at unexpected angles. When I get a streak of ten unmaskings in a row without fucking up once and hurting him, my confidence is flaring.
I think I can actually do this.
My last attempt is the smoothest yet and Orion catches my wrist. Guess he's at the end of his rope with this.
"You have steady hands," he murmurs. Those green eyes finally meet mine through the curtain of auburn hair. "Rex is lucky."
"I'll make sure to tell him that. He loves compliments."
Orion's permanent grin doesn't change—can'tchange—but his eyes crinkle at the corners. The ghost of a smile that lives above the damage.
He releases my wrist and carefully peels the adhesive housing off his scarred cheek, wincing as it pulls at the delicate skin. Then he reaches for his golden skull, buckling it back into place with a relieved sigh. The transformation is immediate. The vulnerability vanishes behind sculpted metal and the tall, composed alpha I first met reassembles himself piece by piece.
Jamie crosses the room and wraps both arms around Orion's waist from behind, burying his face between Orion's shoulder blades. Orion's hand covers Jamie's where they're clasped against his waist.
Neither of them says anything.
I pack the mask case in silence, giving them the moment.
Jamie walks me toward the staircase when everything's packed up, his bounce fully restored. "Hey, Bells?"
"Yeah?"
"Game night sometime." He smiles wider. "When things settle down.Platonicgame night, of course. No funny business. Scout's honor." He holds up three fingers in a Boy Scout salute that I'm ninety percent sure is wrong. "Just board games and snacks and Cheeto shedding fur all over everyone."
"Pencil me in," I say, grinning.
"Yeah? Orion makes this incredible mulled wine. And I make a killer cheese board. You could bring your—" He waves a hand vaguely. "Your people."
I tilt my head. "My mates?" I say without thinking.
Oh fuck.
"Bandmates," I correct quickly. "My bandmates."
Jamie's eyebrows have already shot up and Orion's green eyes go wide above the golden skull. They exchange a stare.
Fuck.
My face goes hot. "I—that's not—I didn't mean?—"
Jamie's maniacal grin is spreading across his face.
"You saidmates," he sings.
"I saidbandmates."
"You didnotsay bandmates."