It’s part of why I liked eating at Tio Miguel’s so much. He was so used to feeding all of my alpha cousins that the tiny amount I ate wasn’t even a blip on the radar. None of them ever acted like I was a burden. His wife often tried to feed me more, or send me home with food for a snack later. It’s sad to think that I miss them more than my own family. Of course, after four alpha sons her body had gone soft, and Tio seemed to love every inch of it, so maybe it was just a personal issue Mamá had.
I realize I’m about to start crying thinking of them and try to sniff it away quietly. All it does is cause Paul to swear loudly and reach for my plate. Greg is watching me, concern written across his features, but he stops Paul’s hand before it can make contact. His voice is quiet, meant for the alpha, but not so quiet that I can’t hear. “No, leave it. It’s not…it’s complicated. But she’s fine; she just needs a minute.” He’s louder when he addresses me directly. “Sarah, Love. Do you want to step away for a second? Can I get you anything?” I appreciate him more than I can say. He doesn’t judge; he just gives me time to collect my shit and try to function like a normal fucking human being.
“Yeah…yeah, I’m gonna go…away for just a minute. I’ll be back in just a second.” I retreat to the bathroom they showed me earlier, just working on breathing while my mind spins out on my own insecurities, and I try to get my shit together. These alphas are sweet; they weren’t judging me. Hell, most alphasseem to be hard-wired to take care of omegas and make sure they have all the necessities like food and shelter and cuddles. Not that cuddles are required for survival. I’d gone a long ass time without them, but now that I have Greg, I’m getting all he can give me. I briefly considered riding him around piggyback when we have to walk around campus, just so I could get more snuggles in. I hadn’t realized how touch-starved I’d been for affection before he came along, but it feels so good to be near him.
These alphas and my beta have caused me more internal conflict than I ever thought possible, and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.
Chapter 65
Watching my omega nearly run out of the room is a sobering experience. I understood she had some body issues, and I expected those to translate to food, but I had no idea it was this much. To be fair, other than her family, no one has ever said anything to her about what she eats.
I just want her to be healthy and happy and give her whatever she needs to do so. Teddy has, in retrospect, avoided the subject admirably. Even causing some confusion to his alpha when they abandon the table to eat on the couch or in the game room. Or just piling her plate high with food and telling her how tired she must be, so if she needs to go eat and rest in her room, it’s fine. I guess he’s been traversing this minefield for a lot longer than I have. I could happily slap her entire family for the shit they’ve put her through and how self-conscious they’ve made her. Nobody should feel bad about their body, especially notbecause of people that are supposed to care about and support them unconditionally.
The room is quiet now, no sounds of forks scraping across plates or glasses clinking. My eyes meet those of the alpha across from me before his gaze turns to Al and Spence, a silent communication passing between them before he starts to clear the table. I’m still eating, so I raise my eyebrow in question at his actions, but his voice is hoarse when he replies. “I’m sorry, man. I don’t know what I did…Spence wanted to try out his rice cooker, and I thought this was…well, it’s something we all can agree on. I’m sorry for whatever I did to upset her.”
I shake my head in denial. This isn’t my trauma to tell, but I don’t want these guys to think they’ve done anything wrong. Being around them has brought out a side of my omega that I don’t get to see often. She’s always outgoing, but she seems more alive and laughs more easily. Teddy has helped a lot too, and it’s thrown into sharp contrast how much I’m not giving her what she needs to be happy. Apparently, I suck as a would-be mate. My voice almost cracks when I attempt to explain without going into too many details. “It’s not anything you did. The food’s great. Really.”
I take another bite of the buttery corn muffin to make my point, chewing slowly to give myself time to think. “I’ve mentioned before that Sarah’s family are…traditional.” Looks of confusion surround me at this apparent change of topic, but I continue. “Some of that fanaticism means that they tend to berate Sarah for her weight. That is to say that omegas are supposed to look pretty, be silent, and join a pack so they can pop out a lot of little baby alphas.”
Paul curses quietly, Al scoffs into his glass of tea, and Spence actually squeaks out a pathetic little whine. “You’ve seen my girl. Does anything about her give off those kinds of vibes?”
Al is the first one to speak. “I’m fairly certain she couldn’t stay silent if you muzzled her.” He looks horrified by his own words. “Not that you should, she should be allowed to say whatever she wants as long as she’s not hurting anyone in the process. Anyone should. Why should she be silent just because she’s an omega? That sort of thinking has been outdated for years.” He looks annoyed at himself for speaking.
Paul stares at the hallway she disappeared down. “The same thing goes for kids. Not everyone wants a family. Not everyone can have one. Male omegas can’t have children. Do they think that something like that makes Teddy any less? None of their pack want children, especially Kelly…Ok, well, I guess Steve mentioned it once, but I think it was a novelty thing from seeing Pack Asher’s twin girls, but he hasn’t brought it up since he got that cat of his.” He shudders almost imperceptibly at the mental image of Rio. Teddy showed us some pictures of the poor critter from the vet’s office when they first brought it home, and I can understand the reaction; it was horrible what somebody put her through.
Spence looks deep in thought for a moment before he, too, chimes in. “But she is pretty. Well…beautiful, and adorable. Even her toes are cute, and I was worried for a little while that I might have a foot fetish or something, but it’s just her.” He continues on despite all the puzzled looks aimed his way. “And she’s so ripped. Though I think she’d still be amazing if she wasn’t. I bet she could crush a watermelon with her thighs. They aren’t ripe yet, so we can’t test that. Watermelons, I mean, it’s the wrong time of year. But how could anybody not think she’s perfect? I just want to wrap her up in one of those papoose things so I can…” He trails off, taking in the confused stares. “The ones you can strap on to carry someone around, not that musician.” He practically scoffs, as if anyone might actually conflate those two things, and Paul snorts laughter in response.
Being the somber and mellow beta I am, I manage not to cackle at the mental images that he’s just unleashed, both the watermelon and him strapping her to his chest to wear like an infant. She might actually enjoy the second one…I’m sure she’d enjoy the challenge of the first, though the two of us would be hard pressed to eat an entire watermelon in one go afterwards.
I ignore the questions that the other two raised before and continue on with my explanation. “Sarah has an oftentimes…complicated relationship with food based on some stuff in her past and family. I don’t want to say more without her permission because it’s not my trauma to tell. Just know that you didn’t do anything wrong. I will admit, she was probably confused because the stuffed peppers that I’ve seen her eat before are more similar to jalapeno poppers than Southern comfort food. Also, Western cornbread is a lot sweeter than Southern. So it was probably a combination of culture shock and family stuff. I’ll also tell you something I haven’t said to her; I don’t like her family. They almost all deserve a swift, sharp kick to the ass for how they treat her. And if I had known what was going to happen at Christmas, I wouldn’t ever have suggested we go there.”
That statement should be enough to quiet their concerns and pacify their curiosity without overstepping into sharing anything too personal. Paul sets down the platter that he had started to put away and the three of them sit back in their chairs. Al looks thoughtful, and Paul is sucking on his teeth, but it’s Spence’s staring over my head towards the hallway where my girl disappeared that keeps my attention. His earlier declaration would have made her smile, and probably gone a long way to pull her out of this depression she falls into when she thinks about her family.
I wish she wasn’t so hell-bent and determined to do what she thinks she’s “supposed” to do. Seriously, the amount of times I’ve wanted to scream when she talks about how things aresupposed to be is frustrating. I love her, but life isn’t perfect, and this isn’t a Disney movie. I don’t care that in a perfect world you are “supposed” to love and respect your family. That street goes both ways, my dear. Scent matches are not the end-all-be-all. I’m clearly a catch, but John is a gold patinaed turd. I don’t care what kind of money he comes from; if it looks like shit, and it smells like shit, it’s shit. Scent match or not, he treats her like an afterthought, and my omega deserves to be the center of somebody’s universe. I just hope she keeps me by her side for it.
The room is silent enough that her footsteps sound loud when she comes down the hall behind me, and it’s not a surprise when her warm hand lands on my shoulder. Her voice is soft, worried when she addresses the room, “I’m sorry about that. I’ve never had these kinds of stuffed peppers. They made me think of my Tia Angela. Her family was pretty eclectic, but the food was never boring.” Her bark of laughter doesn’t hold any humor. “That’s not a bad thing; it’s just her family tried to make sure everyone had a well-rounded sense of flavor, so they’d have a different type of food almost every day. Thankfully, I missed when she tried to make sushi. I don’t think ten-year-old me would have appreciated the raw fish.” Her smile is more genuine now, as her eyes take on a far-off look.
Spence is staring at her mouth while she talks, a goofy grin stretched over his features as if it’s the best thing in the world to learn more about this girl. Al stares silently at his plate, brows furrowed, while Paul has a small, soft smile as he takes in her words. New information about her that I hadn’t been privy to before. It’s always amazing to me to learn new things about her; some of them are fun, some pretty random, but just hearing about her life and everything that happened before I came into it makes me smile.
I know I have it bad for this woman. Scent matches aren’t as much of a thing for betas, and I thank all the gods in theuniverse that I lucked into such an amazing little mate who loves me, despite my own batshit crazy past. Not that she knows much about it, I tend to steer clear of more than the basics. She gets sad for me when I talk about growing up and constantly moving around with no friends, and I don’t want sadness for her. Certainly not because of me.
Her face turns down, eyes meeting mine, and I meet her smile with one of my own. There are different reasons behind them—she was accepted by some of her family at least. I’m just glad she wants me now. She sits back down, reaching out to run her hand over my thigh as she continues to eat, but the conversation around us doesn’t pick back up. Spence is picking apart and eating another corn muffin. He had four of the peppers already, and honestly, he looks like he needs the calories for his giant body. Al picks at his own second helping, and Paul mostly watches Sarah eat, a self-satisfied smile flitting across his face until he sees me watching. He turns away, still looking happy, despite everything else.
Chapter 66
Dinner has not been as bad as I feared. Paul’s cooking is always good, but the company is surprisingly not as stressful as I worried it would be. Not that I’ll tell her that; omegas are smug enough without adding any sort of praise into the equation. Though her show of vulnerability was a bit disquieting, as I’m unsure if it was genuine or a carefully constructed emotional landmine. Spencer keeps staring, and even the small, smug smile on Paul’s face as she eats his food raises my hackles. I understand that it’s an alpha’s instinct to take care of omegas, but I’ve seen it used against our kind before, and I have no desire for my packmates to get hurt when she invariably leaves in a few days. I don’t know what they’re thinking with this.
Thankfully, it ends before any loud declarations or talk of feelings come into play, and I plan to seize on the moment toescape to the sanctity of our library—as soon as I finish loading the dishwasher. It’s the quietest room in the house most of the time, and as I’ve been filling it with books, it makes me feel like I’m surrounded by old friends. I was able to unpack and relocate my dilapidated paperbacks into it, hidden away on a bottom shelf that no one else will readily go to. Spencer would practically have to lie on the floor to get to them, and Paul doesn’t spend a lot of time in there. His hobbies are more tactile in nature, things he can do with his hands while his mind drifts away. I envy his ability to do that sometimes.
Spencer tries to catch me before I can flee. “Hey, I have some games in the hall closet, if anybody wants to play. Board or card? Paul and I used to play Rook on Saturday nights when we were too broke to go out and do anything.” The older alpha groans in the background. “Or we have Uno or just regular playing cards, Trivial Pursuit or Monopoly…no, probably better save those, Al tends to cheat at Monopoly, and I don’t want to scare you away with my crazy amount of useless jeopardy trivia knowledge.” He chuckles to himself, and I’m not sure if that was supposed to be a joke or not.
I luck out when my phone rings, and it’s a depressing state of affairs when I use talking to my mother as an excuse to escape an omega. “Just go ahead and start without me, I need to take this.” Leaving my plate in the kitchen sink, I nod to let Paul know that I’ll load the dishwasher later. It’s the least I can do after he went through all the trouble to make dinner. Not that it was my favorite. I’m not a huge fan of a lot of the spice that is in so much Southern cooking, but it wasn’t bad either.
My thumb swipes across the screen and I bring it to my ear just in time to hear my mother’s voice as I walk into the comforting space of the library. “So, finally answering the phone, are we? I was starting to think you’d fallen off the face of the Earth—if that big alpha packmate of yours wasn’t sending meupdates every few weeks, I wouldn’t have any idea what was happening in your life.” Oh my god, Spencer, what the hell?
“Big packmate? You mean Spencer, correct? Large, lumbering, built like my siblings, but super-sized? There is another one, but he’s fairly standard in height, though of course he looks big compared to me. Which one are you referring to, Mother?” She cackles back in response, finding hilarity in my apparent lack of privacy.
“No. No, it’s the big one, Spence. Though I have spoken to Paul a couple of times as well. He’s the one who first reached out to make sure we knew you were ok, and then Spence ended up friending me and all your brothers on social media. So, congratulations on the house! I’m so proud of you all, honey,” Ok, well, that was unexpected. Not Spence friending everyone, that…really shouldn’t be a surprise, but her being proud. I haven’t heard that from her in a few months, and I always keep it short. We didn’t exactly talk regularly before the move, but still, it makes my chest warm to think about it. It’s mildly uncomfortable.
