He looked at his feet, wrapping the words around himself, trying to see if they fit. He couldn’t tell. He was kind, perhaps. But strong? Micah had been hiding for so much of his life.
His stomach roiled again. Micah swallowed hard, clapping a hand over his mouth.
“Davis...?” Kai frowned.
Micah bolted for the hallway bathroom. He barely made it, heaving hard into the toilet. His breakfast came up through his mouth and nose, and he choked, tears prickling his eyes.
Gods, it had been a while since he’d thrown up. He hadn’t missed the puking at all.
I’m really pregnant. I have a baby in my belly.
Micah touched his still-flat abdomen, wonder unfurling in his chest.
The door eased open behind him. He heard the heavy thuds of crutches on tile. Then Kai knelt awkwardly beside him, brushing Micah’s hair out of his face. Micah froze. He spat into the toilet, reaching up to flush it.
Kai grabbed the nearest glass—York’s, actually—and filled it with water. Then he handed it to Micah, and Micah rinsed out his mouth. He tried to clean the puke out of his nose, too.
“Sorry. I’m not at my best—”
He heaved again, more of his breakfast splattering into the toilet. Micah thought Kai might leave, except Kai set a large hand on his back, slowly rubbing.
Micah tensed, spitting the taste out of his mouth. The last time he’d had morning sickness... he’d been alone and pregnant with York, and there hadn’t been any alphas with him at all. No one helping to keep his mug hand steady, no one just... there. Next to him.
He spat the last of his vomit from his mouth, his chest too tight. “You don’t have to.”
Kai refilled his mug, and handed it back to him. “I promised to be responsible,” Kai murmured, looking sidelong at Micah. “This is part of it.”
Tears prickled at Micah’s eyes. He rinsed his mouth out, blinking hard. Kai was kind. Generous. I shouldn’t be getting this emotional.
“I’ve never had—” Micah began, but his throat grew too tight to speak.
Gently, Kai took the mug away from him. Then he pulled Micah against his chest, and just held him, folding Micah into his warmth. Micah trembled, hardly able to breathe.
“Why?” he asked, Kai’s earthy elm lingering in his nostrils, all the way into his lungs. He curled his fingers into Kai’s shirt, savoring Kai’s strong chest against him, strength that Micah didn’t have.
Aside from that first night, they hadn’t been intimate. Kai had kept his distance whenever they met. But this wasn’t sex—it was comfort. And Micah would take comfort wherever he could find it.
“You need someone,” Kai rumbled. “Spike can’t be here all the time. I promised to step in when he can’t.”
He brushed large fingers through Micah’s hair, massaging his scalp. Micah’s eyelids fluttered shut. Like Spike, Kai felt safe, too. And Micah wanted to stay just a little longer in his arms. The tightness in his chest eased; he blinked his tears away.
“Thank you,” he mumbled.
“Anytime.” Kai caressed Micah’s jaw, on his scarred side.
Micah shivered. He really doesn’t mind the scars.
Voices rang outside the door. Confusion? York’s voice. Then the bathroom door banged open, and Micah’s heart lodged in his throat. He flailed, shoving Kai away.
“Dad?” York asked, frowning down at them. Spike peered over York’s shoulder, his gaze curious and intent.
“I wasn’t feeling well,” Micah said, flushing when York looked accusingly at him. “Kai helped.”
“By... hugging you?” York asked incredulously. “What the fuck?”
Micah squirmed. “It is what it is.”
Kai got clumsily to his feet, fumbling with his crutches. Then he extended a hand to Micah, and hauled him to his feet with ease. There was so much power in his touch, that it left Micah swaying.
“But you’re my dad,” York said.
“You’re missing the point, York,” Spike said, his nostrils flaring. “I smell puke.” Then his gaze locked on Micah. “Mi—Can I call you Micah?”
York frowned. Spike’s smile grew; he’d asked just for York’s sake. Spike hadn’t called Micah by any other name these past two weeks.
“You may,” Micah said, his heart fluttering.
York sniffed at the air. “Wait, you puked?”
“Are you feeling okay?” Spike stepped around York, pressing close against Micah’s other side. “Do you need to go to the doctor?”
Micah shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”
Spike studied him in concern. Then he rubbed Micah’s back, and glanced at his belly. “If you say so. I’m glad Kai was there with you.”
“Why are you guys even crowding around him?” York asked, confused. “He’s just your professor!”
Spike cleared his throat. For a moment, Micah thought York might put two and two together, but York didn’t.
His skin prickling under everyone’s attention, Micah pushed past York, stepping out of the bathroom. “I’m fine,” he said. “None of you have to worry about me.”
It was still very strange, though, having three alphas lock their gazes on you, as though they expected you to collapse any minute.
York followed Micah, sniffing at him. “Wait, how come you have a bite scab on your neck? Who bit you?”
Micah froze, his ears prickling. “Uh. It’s, uh. Temporary. I don’t remember.”
York looked accusingly at him. “Yes, you do.”
14
Micah
Micah felt two heavy, piercing gazes on his back. He hated lying about Spike and Kai. It didn’t feel right.
So he straightened his shoulders, and looked his son in the eye. “Do you really want to know who your dad slept with?”
York paled. “No. No, thanks.”
He ducked into the kitchen, leaving Micah with Spike and Kai. The brothers exchanged a glance. Then Spike caught Micah’s fingers, brushing their wrists together. Their scents mixed. That, too, was intimate.
“I don’t mind if you do this with Kai,” Spike murmured. “Any of it. I’m sorry I wasn’t there, though. I wish I was.”
For a moment, he looked as though he wanted to step close, and wrap his arms around Micah. Micah almost leaned into him.
But York ducked out of the kitchen, and Micah didn’t know how to explain any of this.
