I’m sure Greg would go for me and bring me back anything I want, but I don’t reallyneedtreats. My body is so messed up that I have to work twice as hard to lose any calories I take in. But having a steamed bun or a cookie every so often is ok. All things in moderation, including moderation. Mamá hates that saying, but it’s true. If I don’t get sugar every so often, I will go nuts and eat everything I can get my hands on, and it’s not like my beta would stop me....It’s not like I want him to, but sometimes having some extra willpower would be nice, when I want it…not just randomly. I’d have to kick his ass for trying to take my food away if I really want it. I can’t even ask him for help, because it would just stress him out trying to help me control my cravings when I sometimes don’t want them controlled.
We’re sitting on the side of the bed, watching Shaggy have the zoomies around the room. You’d think he never got any playtime. I stare down at my stomach and the little bulge that’s formed there just from the last few days of being here and eating Sam’s cooking. That man can cook, for real. Like holy shit. They’re gonna have to roll me out of this house if this keeps up. Still, it’s Thursday. We’re supposed to fly out again on Sunday, and I don’t want to. It’s not just Teddy and his pack. Kelly isgreat, seriously, and as pissed as I was at Steve, it’s nice that he has no peace living here with the feisty beta. Tio Miguel would love her.
Sam is sweet, and his voice really does make me want to melt. Paul is almost as good, but he never has the levels of affection that make Sam’s so divine. Not that it’s aimed at me, but when he talks to Kelly or Teddy, you can hear how much he cares about them. I’ve had to wipe a stupid grin off my face several times just at how much my bestie melts for his alpha.
I haven’t talked to Garret or Steve much. The first is quiet most of the time, and seems to orbit around Kelly like she’s his entire universe, always touching her or just smiling like a lovesick fool in her general direction. Steve vacillates between arguing with the beta and simping for the big alpha and omega. He hasn’t been rude, we just don’t have much to talk about. Which is probably for the best since I still hold the threat of beating him senseless if he hurts Teddy again.
It would be stupid to think about staying without considering the other alphas as well, mainly Spence. I don’t know what it is about that man; he’s not mine, not like Greg or even John are mine. He smells good, yeah. It reminds me of when I was young, before designations were so much of a thing, and I would watch my brothers and cousins play football in the backyard. It’s not as if I was allowed toplaywith them; I was too little, even then. But even now, I still love to watch it.
Paul is sweet, but distant, almost forlorn, like something happened and he’s not sure if he’s allowed to be happy anymore—or maybe not sure how to be upbeat. His scent is nice too, still not inherently mine, but like oak whiskey barrels. Not as harsh as straight-up booze. There’s an underlying woody scent that mellows it out, and his generally laid-back demeanor reflects that. Honestly, if Teddy hadn’t told me he was a cop, I never would have guessed. He just seems so easygoing abouteverything. Maybe that’s how he’s a good cop; he doesn’t take shit personally or get upset at people being dumbasses. Of course, that’s speculation, and he may be a shitty police officer or an asshole when he’s not at home. But he doesn’t feel like that.
Fuck, I even like the mini alpha with the huge fucking chip on his shoulder. He’s fun to tease, yeah, but he’s also smart as fuck—if pretentious. Seriously, if he could manage to pull that stick out of his ass, he would probably be awesome. His scent of roasted pecans doesn’t hurt anything either, though it does make me want to lick him. And wouldn’t that just throw the little asshat for a loop? He’s probably a lot more salty though, at least if his attitude is anything to go by.
My breath heaves out in a sigh, and Greg turns a questioning look my way. I try to smile but it must not look right since he pulls me against his chest and kisses the top of my head. “You ok, Sarah? How’s your…um…spikeyness?” Fuck me, but this man is cute and I can’t stop the laugh that bubbles free, unbinding the knot in my chest. He pulls back so he can meet my eyes while waiting for the answer.
“It’s not—spiking, I mean. I feel fine. Tired and extra hungry. Despite how much food I’m putting away. Look at my damned stomach. This is gonna take weeks to lose, and gods help me if it’s still there when we see my family again. You know Mamá will say something about it. She can’t seem to help herself. I should probably skip lunch and just have a salad or something for dinner until we get back to the center and I can get back into my normal routine.” His brows rise almost to his hairline with unasked questions. “I’m sorry, Pretty Boy. I’m just feeling kind of down about myself right now. I don’t know what happened all of a sudden, I just feel like a fat, lazy piece of shit.”
The poor guy has dealt with some of my mood swings before, but not usually this bad, so he looks flabbergasted for a moment, his mouth opening like he wants to respond before snappingshut again, so I opt for putting him out of his misery. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Hell, I don’t think I did anything wrong. I just…feel like a shit human being sometimes, ok. It gets worse when something goes wrong, or I have to think about dealing with reactions that I know are gonna hurt. I…I just don’t want to deal with it sometimes, and I’m sorry. But you’re fine. I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong, I just feel bad about myself. It happens.”
His arms tighten around me, and his voice is muffled against the top of my head. “You know I don’t think that, right? I love you just the way you are. You could weigh five hundred pounds, and I would love every squishy little inch of you…though I probably wouldn’t be able to pick you up as easily; I’d have to hit the gym a lot more.”
His voice sounds pained. “I hate hearing you talk bad about yourself. I hate that anybody ever made you feel bad about yourself. You are wonderful, and amazing, and beautiful, and until you change your mind, you’re stuck with me. So get used to having me as a cheering squad when you start feeling like this. I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure you know how perfect you are.” His body rocks back and forth, just holding me and comforting me and while my self-confidence is still lying in tatters on the floor, it does feel nice to have the cuddles.
Chapter 63
I’ve been trying not to notice Sarah at the gym every day. I still need to work, and while she gives me a little wave every time she sees me, she seems to be taking into account that this is my job and I don’t want to get in trouble. I’m supposed to be around if people need me. I only have a couple of personal training sessions this week, and those are trials. I don’t actually expect them to sign up for something more long term. They just need a little hand getting started, and I’d be happy to help with that even if I wasn’t getting paid for it. Of course, Teddy says that’s what I’m here for, so I’m just doing what I’m told. It isn’t the kind of job I want to do for the rest of my life, but I still like being helpful.
I’m walking out of the break room when I see her sitting at the front desk, talking to Teddy and Greg. Her smile is huge as she laughs at something the big beta says, and he blushes,smiling back at her. While I’d never tell her to her face that she’s adorable, it makes my chest tight looking at them together. I want to have the kind of connection that they have with each other. And he seems like such a nice guy for her. Idowish she was amiable to our pack, but I know that the distance is a huge problem with her family and her other scent match living back in California. Greg already told me he would follow her anywhere, so I’m not too worried about him, but I don’t want to upend her life.
Plus, I don’t really know what we have to offer an omega. Well, Paul and Al are pretty established in their careers, and we have a house with a nest…but that doesn’t seem like enough. I’m not enough, and I don’t really know what I’m doing most of the time. Claire tells me that confidence is key and I just need to visualize what I want to achieve, but I don’t know if that’s a good long-term strategy to live by. Of course, she’s in high school; all she has to visualize is graduation, and she’s smart enough she’ll get there no problem. But I’m done with that. I have my degree, and all I’m doing with it is hanging it on the wall like a pretty piece of overpriced artwork while I fill out applications for a teaching job. Not that there are a lot of them; we only have one school district, so it’s kind of a wait and see sort of situation.
I sidle closer to the desk, trying to find a way to insert myself with the happy trio. Paul said I could invite them over for dinner tonight. He’s making stuffed peppers—finally using my rice maker, so I’m super excited about that. But I also kind of feel like I’m gonna barf, and that would be embarrassing. It takes them a few minutes to notice me loitering by the desk, and it’s tempting to pretend that I’m not really there to talk when all the attention suddenly turns my way. Maybe I should just ask Teddy a work-related question so I don’t make an idiot out of myself.
No, then we’d have way too many leftovers, and I don’t know how well bell peppers freeze and reheat. Of course, that’ll be aproblem too if she doesn’t want to come for dinner. Ugh, why didn’t I think this out better. Maybe Paul won’t start cooking until I call, but I can’t risk it. I want her to be in our house and in our lives. Well begun is half done, as Dad says, which means I just have to take this step.
I am totally gonna look like an idiot.
Fuck, I already look like an idiot just standing here.
Use your words, Spence.
Open mouth, move tongue, express air.
Fucking hell.
They’re all looking at me, and I’m not sure if those were inside the head thoughts or outside the head thoughts. Hopefully inside…I don’t want to get in trouble for cursing at work. “Hey, Paul’s making stuffed peppers for dinner.”
Smile, there you go.
Nope, too much, you look like a lunatic.
Pull it back.
Teddy’s the only one to react. “Oh, that sounds good. What kind does he make? I wonder if Sam knows how. I should ask him or Vee.” Sarah and Greg nod to him, still looking over at me, and I realize I haven’t actually invited them over; I just said what we’re having. I’d like for the floor to open up and swallow me down. Hopefully without chewing first, ’cause that sounds painful.
“Do you want to come over for dinner? Paul’s making stuffed peppers.” Go me, I got out a whole sentence…too bad I’m nearly yelling instead of speaking in a normal tone. Of course, I don’t realize this until Greg and Sarah both jerk back, looking uncomfortable. Unless they’re uncomfortable because of the invitation. Why am I doing this again?
Greg, at least, answers. “Is everything ok there, Spence? You seem to be having some volume control issues, are your earsalright?” At least their faces are now filled with concern and not annoyance or fear of the big, loud alpha.
