“I really like it.” She beams, clearly loving the way the fabric flows as she moves. She looks radiant. Like she’s glowing from the inside out.
“We need that one in blue, red, pink, and black,” I say, nodding toward the eager beta assistant. She nods, making her ponytail bounce, then starts tapping rapidly on her tablet.
“Autry?” I turn back to my omega.
She meets my gaze with bright, excited eyes. “Yeah?”
“Charlie’s refusing to try anything on,” I say, not even pretending to be subtle. “All I want is to buy him a few decent outfits, but he’s being stubborn.”
Autry immediately gasps, spinning toward Charlie with a disapproving frown. “Charlie,” she scolds, her voice full of playful offense. “You have to try something on. Even just one outfit.”
I slowly turn to watch him, and it’s worth it. Charlie’s eyes go wide, his jaw drops, and his whole face flushes a deep red.
“Are you serious right now?” he says to me. “You’re telling on me?”
I raise a brow, smirking.
Autry doesn’t hesitate. She marches right up to him and grabs his hand. “Come on. You’re going to look amazing.”
Charlie visibly short-circuits the second her hand touches his. His ears turn red, and his fingers twitch in hers like he’s unsure what to do with the contact. His mouth opens, but no words come out for a second. He glances between her hand and her face, then sends me a look that’s equal parts betrayed by me involving Autry and panicked.
“Try on one thing,” I say with a single finger raised. “That’s all I’m asking.”
Charlie lets out an overly dramatic sigh and rolls his eyes. “Fine,” he mutters. “But I’m not doing a fashion show.”
Autry flashes me a victorious grin as she drags him toward a rack of clothes curated for him.
I win.
“That’s really nice of you,” Oli says from behind me. I glance over my shoulder to find him hovering near themirrored wall, arms crossed and looking like he’s two seconds from bolting.
“You look like you could use a new shirt, too,” I say, eyeing the wrinkled black t-shirt he’s wearing. “There’s probably a whole section for husky omegas.”
“Husky?” Oli lifts an eyebrow, circling the couch so he’s in my line of sight. “Do husky omegas exist?”
“Only in my dreams,” I reply dryly, then switch gears. “How’s Brock?”
Oli relaxes at the question, his shoulders dropping. “He’s really good. I talked to him last night. He’s seeing a girl.”
I grin. “Seriously? I can’t remember the last time Brock dated someone for more than a week.”
“She’s good for him,” Oli says with a proud little smirk. “She keeps him on his toes. Doesn’t let him get away with any of his usual bullshit.”
“That makes me really happy,” I say honestly. “He’s a good guy. He just... overindulges. Always has.”
Oli plops down next to me on the couch, which nearly swallows him whole. He jerks upright like he sat in a beanbag. I smirk but don’t say anything, watching as Autry piles dozens of shirts and pants into Charlie’s stiff arms.
“Okay, I gotta ask,” Oli says, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. His voice drops slightly, like he doesn’t want anyone to hear. “Your old man. Is he always so fucking stiff?”
I bark out a laugh. “He’s not stiff—he’s stressed. Big difference.”
Oli side-eyes me. “He threatened to rip my fucking head off if Autry so much as stubbed her toe.”
I nod, sipping my champagne. “Yeah. That sounds about right.”
“Come on.” Autry lets out a slightly evil laugh as she practically shoves Charlie into the dressing rooms. The poor beta stumbles inside, pink crawling all the way up to his ears.
“You didn’t have to push me,” he grumbles, clearly trying to sound annoyed, but his goofy smile gives him away.
