Brendan pancake for pancake, blushing when he realized he’d gained Angie’s attention too.
“You look flushed,” she said. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I think it’s just my body adjusting to being a shifter again.”
“Uh-huh.” She seemed unconvinced as she gave Brendan a look.
Riley didn’t know what the glance was meant to signify but it made him uneasy. He was missing something. There was this worry at the back of his mind, some little thing nagging at him. As if how he was feeling right then wasn’t wholly unfamiliar.
He insisted on helping with the cleanup, pairing with Brendan. That kept them busy while the rest of the family arrived to be fed. Riley felt a little less self-conscious about his own appetite when everyone else seemed to have no problem putting away stacks of pancakes and bowls of oatmeal. He still felt hot and was happy to escape outside once someone else took their turn at the sink. Leaning against the wall next to the kitchen door, he couldn’t help overhearing the whispered conversation between Angie and Brendan.
“Bren, are you sure Riley’s okay? And don’t give me that nonsense about him not having shifted in a while. That might explain a bit of muscle stiffness, maybe a little tiredness, but not…”
Not his bottomless pit of an appetite, not his fever, not the way his skin was starting to tingle… Oh. Oh, no. He knew those signs, knew what they meant. He needed to get out of there.
Slipping around the side of the house, he came in through the front door and hurried to the attic bedroom. When Brendan came in a few minutes later, Riley was almost packed.
“Uh…” Brendan glanced at his watch then back at Riley. “I thought we were leaving this evening. There’s still the party this afternoon.”
“I, um, I’m not feeling so good. I hate to shorten the trip, but do you think we could head home?”
He knew it was terrible timing, since the cake, cards, and presents for Brendan’s parents weren’t going to be exchanged until that afternoon. But time was running out, and the sooner he got home, the better.
“Or I could call a taxi to take me back?” he suggested instead. “Then you can stay.”
“Won’t get a taxi to take you that far on a Sunday,” Brendan said softly. “But don’t worry, I’ll take you. Let me just get my stuff together.”
Riley sat on the edge of the bed, feeling guilty as he watched Brendan pack. There was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Brendan called.
Angie poked her head in, catching sight of the packed bags. “You’re not leaving, are you?”
“I think we have to,” Brendan said, throwing a meaningful look Riley’s way.
“Nonsense. Nate and Logan are leaving this afternoon. You two can have the cottage for as long as you need it.”
“Angie…”
She ignored Brendan, turning her attention to Riley, her tone matter-of-fact.
“How long does it normally last?”
Riley wanted his mortification to swallow him whole.
“Um, four or five days?”
“What are we talking about?” Brendan looked puzzled, and Riley wanted to sink through the floor.
Angie raised an eyebrow and looked between them. “You two are adults, in a relationship. Surely, I don’t have to spell this out for you?”
“My, um, my cycle isn’t exactly predictable,” Riley mumbled. Each word hurt to force out. “I haven’t had one in a while.”
Truth be told, he’d always hated his heats. As a teenager, it pretty much meant being locked up in solitary in whatever group home he was living in. He’d never had one while in a relationship or with an alpha he trusted enough to share it with. Heats were something to suffer through. Alone. And the best place for him to do that was Mrs. O’Brien’s house. Right then, it felt like nowhere in the world was as far away as his little room there.
“Does someone want to clue me in here?” Brendan asked.
“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Angie said. “The cottage is there if you need it. You’ll probably be more comfortable there than stuck in that boarding house.”
She slipped from the room, and he and Brendan sat there in awkward silence.
“Riley, what’s going on?”
“I’m really sorry, Brendan.”
He never would have agreed to come if he thought he’d ruin the alpha’s weekend like this.
“I don’t see that you have anything to apologize for. It’s not your fault that you’re sick.”
Groaning, Riley pushed to his feet. “But I’m not sick, not really. I’m—”
Brendan’s eyes went wide, the clues falling into place.
“Oh. You’re in heat.”
“Uh, yeah. Sorry. Like I