Chapter 80: Kissing felt damn great

The door clicked shut, the electronic lock engaging with that sharp, definitive beep, leaving me entirely alone in the suffocating silence of the penthouse once more. I leaned my back against the wood, my knees still trembling slightly from the sheer exhaustion of the day.

​I looked across the vast, minimalist living room toward the sofa. Reid was already settling, his breathing slowing down as the medication began its work, though the room still hung heavy with the fading, addictive traces of frozen pine and crushed orchids.

​He would wake up tonight or tomorrow with a clear head. He wouldn’t be delirious anymore.

I slowly walked back toward the armchair and sat down, staring at him as he wheezed softly.

Would he really not remember? I wondered. Would he not remember locking his fingers into my hair and pulling me down?

​Or was I going to have to stand on the ice with him, pretending my first kiss wasn’t stolen from me in such a manner?

I decided to put all that behind me for the meantime and focus on what was in front of me. Reid.

I put it upon myself to play nursemaid, choosing to stay in the penthouse rather than leave him to burn alive in his own stubbornness. After all, if his leg gets worse, I’ll have myself to blame for not looking out for him.

But as I moved around the quiet space, the memory of that kiss hung between us like a physical wire. I kept wishing, desperately praying, that the fever had completely wiped his slate clean.

​But even if Reid’s conscious brain didn’t fully register the details, the memory was already burned deep into his muscle logic.

It would sit right at the tip of his tongue or lurk at the back of his mind. He had spent days taking what he wanted from my body, but that taste of my mouth would do some damage. Like rewriting his primal instincts.

I don’t know if it’s the same for him as it is for me, but kissing felt damn great, and his Alpha subconscious would already be looking for whatever chance it could get to do it again.

That was the only outcome I could foresee out of this, so I decided to be at full alert so he doesn’t catch me off guard when he does come around.

Though, I had a more pressing problem to handle.

​I checked on him one last time, ensuring the cold compress was still helping his temperature, before grabbing my jacket and slipping out of the penthouse.

I ran down to a 24-hour pharmacy three blocks away, my heart doing gymnastics in my chest as I stood at the counter. I kept my face a frozen, deadpan mask as I bought over-the-counter Omega contraceptives, casually telling the clerk they were ’for a friend’ who had a rough weekend.

​Once the pills were safely hidden in my pocket, I stopped by a high-end grocery store nearby. I bought a few things—plenty of fresh vegetables, meat, and a handful of casual snacks—so I could fill his embarrassingly empty fridge and actually have something real to cook with.

​When I let myself back into the penthouse, the electronic lock beeped softly. I crept into the living room, confirming Reid was still asleep, before taking over his kitchen.

I started preparing dinner early, the chopping sound of vegetables on the cutting board helping to ground my chaotic thoughts.

​By the time the stew was simmering on the stove, my phone had practically melted from the sheer volume of notifications I was receiving.

I had gotten several calls—first from Marcus, then from Coach Devin, and even a group chat buzz from a few of our teammates. Because I was the Captain, they all assumed I was just being incredibly responsible, but of course there was that occasional chatter about how Reid had become my favorite ever since he laid nursemaid for my bruised rib.

I had to play along and act like they were on their high horses, while keeping whatever real facts there was to myself.

I assured every single one of them over the phone that I was keeping a close eye on McCoy, making sure he was elevating the leg, and ensuring nothing bad would happen to our star rookie’s contract-heavy ankle.

​"Yeah, Coach. I’m right here," I whispered into the phone, keeping my voice low. "He’s resting. I won’t let him ruin the ligament, I promise. I’ll watch him the whole time."

​I hung up with a heavy sigh, setting the phone on the kitchen counter. I locked my lips and then closed my eyes for a second, but I quickly opened them before the feeling of Reid’s lips drowned me again.

Just as I turned around to check the heat on the stove, a low, scratchy sound drifted from the living room.

​Reid was finally waking up.

​His body shifted against the leather cushions, his eyelids fluttering open as the heavy fog of the fever reducer began to lift but I wasn’t sure if entirely.

He looked confused, his smoky grey eyes blinking at the ceiling before his jaw tightened, the physical pain in his ankle greeting him the moment he returned to consciousness.

​"Fuck..." he muttered, his voice incredibly dry. He cleared his throat, his chest heaving under his t-shirt. "My throat... Cap... You there?"

To think the first person he would look for after coming to was me.

​"I’m right here," I said, my captain’s mask snapping instantly back into place. "I’ll get you water,"

​I quickly poured a fresh, cold glass of water from the kitchen filter and walked over to the sofa. I kept my distance until the last possible second, stepping up to the edge of the cushions and leaning down slightly to hand him the glass.

"Drink. The doctor said you need to stay hydrated."

​But despite my mental warnings and being on full alert, the moment I got close enough for my shadow to fall over his chest, Reid didn’t care for the water at all.

​His eyes didn’t look delirious anymore—they looked sharp, focused, and instantly locked onto my mouth.

Before my hand could even steady the glass, his hand shot up from the blanket and grabbed my arm, the water slipping from my hold in sheer shock.

​It fell onto the rug and spilled everywhere, the glass rolling away, but Reid didn’t care about that at all. Instead, he let out a low, rough groan, his smoky grey eyes blinking up at me through a heavy, residual fog as he used his grip to anchor me right where I was.

​"I had a strange dream, Cap," he muttered, his voice gravelly and thick and my heart skipped at the sound of that.

​"Reid, let go," I said, my voice hardening as the alarm bells in my head went off.

I tried to pull my arm back, but he held me tight, his words slurring slightly as he stubborned his way through the lingering haze of his fever.

​"And right now," he whispered, his eyes darkening as they fixed entirely on my mouth, "I want to know if your lips feel as good as they did in my dream."

​Before I could even refute his ridiculous claim or violently free myself from his grip, he pulled me down across his chest with a sudden, heavy yank.

He shoved his long fingers over the back of my hair, locking my head in place, and then crashed his lips directly into mine.

This... was what I was avoiding.