Double Redamancy

Chapter 20: Cingulomania

Cingulomania: (n.) a strong desire to hold a person in one's arms

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"Wakey, wakey." Someone whispers in my ear, their warm breath creating tingles on my neck.

I look up to see Booker's grinning face looking at me from behind the couch. I sit up quickly, not realizing I had fallen asleep in the first place. I run a hand through my messy blonde hair in an attempt to fix it.

"You could have slept in my bed." Acer offers, walking up behind Booker.

"Or mine." Booker cuts in quickly, scowling at Acer.

I laugh at their silly argument and stand up. I push them both gently, turning to walk to the door. Booker takes that as an opportunity to grab me around the waist. I laugh as he peppers gentle kisses against my neck.

"Let me go." I chuckle, pulling away from him.

"Tell me you like me better than Acer." Booker teases, wrapping an arm around me as we approach the pack house.

"Hey!" Acer speaks up and I can hear the slightest bit of fear in his voice.

"Stop being a dick, Booker." I sigh, opening the front doors.

When I step inside everyone is already eating. Sage waves to me excitedly and I wave back to her with a grin. However, that smile falters slightly when I see who's sitting next to her.

Pierce glances at me with an angry scowl before rolling his eyes and returning to his food. I'll deal with him later, I decide.

"Hi boys!" My mother greets cheerily.

"Nice of you to finally join us." Beta Dean comments playfully.

"Sorry for being late, sir." Acer apologizes.

"Our apologies." Booker agrees.

"We're fine." I assure my mates, taking their hands and pulling them towards the kitchen.

"I don't think your Beta likes us." Acer whispers to me.

"He was just joking." I laugh, pushing a plate into Acer's hands.

"You're too sensitive, Acer." Booker agrees, piling pancakes and bacon onto the white porcelain.

"Aren't you eating?" Acer asks, looking down at me with worried eyes.

"I already ate." I assure him, patting his arm gently.

We walk into the kitchen and sit at the long table. Everyone is making casual conversation. The awkward air from the recent "incident" seems to be gone and breakfast is peaceful.

My father clears his throat suddenly and scans the table. Everyone quiets waiting for him to speak.

"It's training day." my father comments, his eyes landing on my face. "I expect everyone to be there."

I nearly laugh right there. I'd skipped all too many trainings in my lifetime. My many years of declining my identity, lead to many excuses and escape plans. Training could mean shifting.