Not thatthatmakes sense either…I mean, it could be a jealousy thing, though I’m not banging Sarah, or anybody. She’s sweet, but she’s not mine…ours. I really like her, but I don’t want to get too attached, ’cause I know it’ll already hurt when she leaves, and we’ve only known each other for a few days. Fuck, this is only really the third time talking to her, and she spent a good portion of the second time asleep on me. There’s just something about her…not her scent, though that’s really good. Strawberries and cream. I don’t know what to call it other than her fire. She’s tiny and fierce and so passionate about everything. She has so much life and enthusiasm, and I don’t know how I could ever get lucky enough to be a part of that.
So, there’s no reason for Hope to be jealous or whatever the hell she’s being weird about. Suddenly, I want to call Tiffany and ask for advice, but I’m not even sure exactly what the question would be. It’s not like I can try to court Sarah—Greg is her scent match, and I think he would be good with it from what he said earlier. But she also has another scent match, plus she lives so far away. How would one go about long-distance courting? Idon’t think Tiffany would have any suggestions on that; she’s never had a boyfriend, or at least not one she’s told me about. Though there was that one guy last year that she brought home for Christmas…But she said they were just friends, even though they were holding hands at the table.
Thinking about it now, I’m pretty sure she lied to me so I wouldn’t interrogate him about his intentions. Not that I would do it on purpose, but I guess some people might find me intimidating. I don’t try, and it’s not like I can make myself smaller. Kay tried to help me find “slimming” clothes, but it just never worked. I’m gonna be big, no matter what, and unless I can figure out how to wear shoes on my knees and hobble around like that, I’m gonna be taller than everybody. Still, it’s frustrating that I just realized she was worried enough not to be honest with me. Maybe I shouldn’t bother her with this after all…I don’t want to inconvenience her by asking too many questions, especially if she does have other stuff going on.
Al draws me out of my meandering thoughts by poking me in the shoulder…repeatedly, apparently. He looks annoyed when my brain finally comes back online and I focus on him. “Where’d you go?” My face must still be blanked out. “You were woolgathering. Are you ok, Spencer?” His hand comes up, wrist across my forehead, but he pulls it back shortly thereafter, muttering about not running a fever. Then he cups both sides of my face, making me turn and lower my head so he can check my eyes. “Are you alright? Did you bang your head today at work? Have you been using proper ventilation when you painted this week?”
Sarah snickers across the table from me and tries to turn it into a cough. His concern is appreciated, if embarrassing. Both he and Paul tend to baby me sometimes. I’m pretty sure it’s ’cause they both think of me as a younger brother, but it’s still awkward how far they’ll take it. Regardless, it’s nice to havethem worry, even when it does cause situations like this. I gently take his hands and move them away. “I’m fine, really. I’ve just been up late a lot with the nest, so I need some more rest. I’ll try to get to bed early tonight, ok? The star search can wait until tomorrow.” He looks puzzled for a moment at that statement before giving in and nodding once.
Sarah and Greg watch us from across the table. He has a small, amused smile on his face, and the only way I can describe her expression would be wistful. Though how Al acting like a mother hen is something to envy, I don’t know. I thought for sure that once I moved out of my parents’ house, it would be the end of that sort of thing, but clearly not. Finally, Greg breaks the moment, holding up a debit card. “So, we ready to head out? I can go pay up at the front and then follow you back to your place. I think I remember the way, but better to be safe than sorry.”
Al looks annoyed. “No, it was my idea to come out, and my packmate that invited you. I’ll cover dinner.”
Greg’s big, easy smile takes on a slightly brittle edge. “Nah, we pretty much invited ourselves, and y’all fed us over the weekend; this is fair.” Before Al can reply, Sarah blushes, pokes Greg in the arm and asks him to scoot, mumbling about the bathroom. He gets up to let her out and she takes his hand, kissing the back of it before she prances over to the cash register and points at our table, handing over the card that was in Greg’s hand earlier. She passes it over to Ginger and then takes off for the back where the restroom signs are.
Sarah hasn’t made it back yet before Ginger comes over with Greg’s card and the check for him to sign—much to Al’s annoyance. She’s also carrying a white foam container, and I completely spaced that Al ordered Paul’s dinner. I swear I’d forget my head if it wasn’t attached.
The little omega looks smug when she returns to the table after the dishes are cleared away. Al is glaring at her, but Greg justkisses her on the forehead and nuzzles into her hair. Her voice carries an edge of uncertainty as she looks from Al to me. “Come on, you guys were going to get weird and take forever. I want to go see Moose’s nest and then get back to Teddy’s. I need a shower and cuddles.”
At this declaration, Greg pulls her close, and I’m hit with a jolt of envy as she burrows against his chest. I don’t even understand why showing her my work is so important. It’s not like she wants to be mine…ours? Paul would be supportive, but it wouldn’t be fair to her if he stayed so detached. Al is vehemently opposed to having an omega, though he’s fine with Teddy. So maybe it’s girls. Though he’s been…ok, not welcoming, or even polite. But not as brisk to Sarah, even when he is being an invasive butt monkey.
Maybe this is a bad idea, but I can’t help wanting her to like the nest, and wanting her to be proud of the work I put into it.
Chapter 58
Ifeel guilty that I don’t feel guilty, and that in itself is confusing. I should feel worse that I’m here in this amazing nest with this amazing alpha and his grumpy packmate and my beta. It’s not even mine, but I want it; I want them. I have an alpha back home. He’s my scent match, and this feels an awful lot like cheating on him, even if we aren’t being intimate.
Sadly, I’ve had more emotional intimacy with sleeping and cuddling Moose than I have with my own alpha since he’s always so busy. Fate and his scent say he’s supposed to be mine, but as time passes with no contact, I feel more like an afterthought to him than anything he actually wants.
Moose has done an amazing job in the nest he put together; it really does make me think of walking along the beach at twilight. It just needs a sound machine to give the full experience. I sit on the edge of the mattress—the other end is stacked highwith pillows and blankets still sealed in plastic bags—and stare around the room. He even painted wispy white around the floating shelves to make them look like clouds, and the thought of him using his huge hands with such a tiny brush to get all those itty-bitty details is adorable. Considering he looks more like the type to brute-force his way through everything, it creates such a strange image in my mind.
Of course, he’s already proven that looks can be deceiving, in a good way. He’s smarter than I could have imagined, but still has this presence about him. Like he grew up watching too many Disney movies where the good guy always wins, and nothing really bad can happen. Part of me wants to ask if he ever saw Bambi, because that one had a shit middle, and his mom stayed dead. Of course, those movies fucking thrived on dead parent syndrome, mostly moms. Like heroines have a harder time being raised by their dads. Though I guess in fairy tales, they were mostly clueless. I would have been fucked if it hadn’t been for Tio Miguel and my cousins.
There is still a slight edge of the paint smell in the air, but Spence said he’s kept the windows open all day, so it’s probably only noticeable because I’m an omega. I just want to open up the skylight, lie back, and pretend we’re on the beach staring up at the sky. Me and my beta and my alpha…at least for now I can pretend Moose is mine, right? He’s not the one I’m supposed to have, but he’s so sweet and kind, and even though my opinion shouldn’t matter for this room, you can see in his eyes how much he wants me to like it. I kind of want to cry at the unfairness of it all—that this is so amazing, and one day he’ll find someone to actually share it with…that won’t be me.
That’s not fair to him…or her, whoever this hypothetical future mate is. Deep down, I know I should tell him how pretty it is, wish him well, and leave before I get more attached or let him get attached. He’ll still have his pack, though, when I leave, andI’ll have Greg, so at least there’s that. This week has put into sharp perspective how much I’ve missed having my best friend close by, how much I’ve missed having someone to really talk to, to work out with. This last year…the last six months especially, has been so fucking lonely. I love Greg, but there are some things it’s hard to talk about. He’ll listen and let me talk, but he doesn’t have much opinion.
Right after I met him, I couldn’t even go and talk to Adam and Lily about it because of the horrible shit that happened that night to them. Of course, she’s been holed up in her room since then, rarely leaving, and poor Adam is always on guard—her constant panic flaring in their bond, keeping him on edge. Even if he wanted to go to classes, I don’t think he could leave her alone long enough to try. She just sobs whenever he has to go anywhere. I bought her a taser, but it’s kind of like shutting the barn door after the cows have escaped. The damage is done.
The only time she leaves their room is for doctor’s and therapist visits, and he’s always with her for those, of course. I think he panics almost as much as she does when he can’t see her. If I could just get my hands on those fucking alphas—I don’t even know what I’d do. Probably get myself arrested in an attempt at vengeance.
Greg hugs me tightly from behind, his voice quiet in my ear. “You ok? You started shaking.” No judgement, just a statement and concern. My pretty boy, always worried about me. No matter what I say, he keeps lingering under the misconception that he isn’t good enough and that an omega needs an alpha. But I love him, and while I’m not against adding a few alphas, they would have to understand that he’s mine, and that means he’s here to stay.
“Just thinking about having to go home, Pretty Boy. How messed up the last year has been, how much I’ve missed my friends.” He turns me around so he can look down at my face.“You know, Teddy’s here now, and Lily and Adam…” I trail off, not wanting to elaborate, but I don’t need to. The pained look that crosses his face is a harsh reminder that he knows. Hell, he’s a guard; he probably knows more than I do, all things considered. He pulls me tight against him, burying his face in my hair and rubbing his hands up and down my back, trying to soothe himself as much as me.
“I’m sorry, Sarah. I didn’t even think. I’ve been so caught up in us that it slipped my mind that you might miss the people who came before me. I know Teddy misses you; he’s told me as much. I can’t help with the others, though. I’m sorry, Shor—Sarah.” He usually manages to stop himself from calling me Shortcake or Spitfire. He knows I’m not fond of having a nickname. Teddy’s the only one who can give me one, and to be fair, I called him Thicc first. He thought it was an insult, so he called me short, and our relationship just kind of grew from there. Both snarky assholes together. Greg’s great, but he worries about upsetting me, so he won’t snark with me very often.
I bet Teach is snarky; he seems like he could be the sassy type under that stuffy exterior. Not Moose, I’d be worried about hurting his feelings—thanks, big guy, now I know how Greg feels. And Paul seems like the kind to give a small chuckle and then go back to whatever else he’s doing. Nothing wrong with that; every joke needs a foil for it to work properly.
Speaking of, I wonder where Officer Paul is tonight. They said he was working, but how late will he be out? “Hey, Moose. When does Paul get home from work, anyway?” I turn around to see the big alpha staring at us with so much longing it hurts, and it takes him a moment for my words to sink in.
“Oh, um…he should be back any time now. His schedule has been messed up for a few months, so they might need to have a meeting after his shift, but it shouldn’t be much longer. That’s why we got his sandwich with no mayo, so he could heat it upwhen he gets home if he needs to.” It takes me a minute to remember their to-go order from earlier. I stare blankly at the big alpha, waiting to see if he’ll elaborate, but he shuffles in place for a few minutes, one big hand coming up to ruffle the hair at the back of his head. “He…well, he’s not happy about it. But last year…Did Teddy tell you about Steve and Garret’s dad showing up at Sam’s place?”
He looks nervous as hell, but something he’s saying stirs a memory. Kelly mentioned it when we were at the nesting store, something about somebody getting shot and a fire. But I was kind of dizzy as fuck so I probably didn’t retain anything super well. “Sorry. It sounds vaguely familiar. Something about a fire?” The poor guy twists his hands nervously, like he’s worried that his answer will upset me.
“Yeah…Ok, yeah. So, it was while Teddy, Sam, and Garret were on their way back from getting his stuff, you know, like, the middle of the night sort of thing. I guess Jake woke up Kelly and Steve ’cause he was going nuts with barking and shi—stuff. And when they looked out, they saw that Sam’s shop was on fire.” I had wondered about that, with how the backyard looked. “Anyway, apparently their dad—Steve and Garret, not Kelly, her dad lives in town—had shown up and set it on fire, and then Kelly called 911 and went out to investigate. He shot Steve and Jake and tried to strangle her. The cops and fire department all showed up, and their dad—Steve and Garret’s, not any of the cops’ dads—ended up getting shot with Paul’s gun. I wasn’t there, and he doesn’t like to talk about it, but it led to a big investigation into his mental state, ’cause you know, killing people is bad.”
Holy shit, one of these guys murdered somebody? Fuck me, but I hope there’s more to this story than they’re letting on. Wait, no, Kelly mentioned somebody else taking Paul’s gun after the guy wouldn’t stop threatening everybody. Spence looks like he’drather be anywhere but here answering questions, and I hate to push, but my memory is kind of fucked up lately. “But…Paul didn’t shoot anybody, right? Somebody took his gun and—” The big alpha waves his arms back and forth, cutting me off.
