Appetite for an Alpha (Omega Quadrant #4)

Chapter 2

2

“ W hat?” Brett asked, glaring between all three cooks.

“Get out of my kitchen before I boot you out,” Maurice said in his clipped, accented tone before returning to a simmering pot on the stove.

“It’s Avery’s kitchen, not yours,” Brett spat.

“Today, it’s mine. If you want your friend’s reception to have good food, you leave.”

Brett scowled. He and Maurice had had a confrontation his first month at the restaurant, and things had never gotten better after it. Usually, he’d go out of his way to bother the asshole, but it wasn’t the day to do that. “I’ll leave, but for Avery’s sake. Not yours.”

“Whatever,” Maurice muttered.

Speaking of Avery, Brett eyed his watch and realized he was late. He raced upstairs as fast as he could with a sore stomach, passing the painters finishing up on the second-floor landing and found his best friend in a sparse guest bedroom that simply had a small couch, chair, and a small vanity inside. Freshly showered and seated beside his uncle, Gray, Avery wore only a robe with his hair still damp, his phone to his ear.

“Where have you been? I just called and left you a message,” Avery said, dropping his arm.

Brett patted his pockets. “I must’ve left my phone in my car. But don’t worry, I was just outside, setting the grand table for tonight,” Brett said as he closed the door. “It looks amazing, if I do say so myself.”

He eyed Avery’s uncle and nodded. Gray offered a smile and nod in greeting.

“You’re not working today,” Avery said, rising with difficulty. He waddled closer and grasped both of Brett’s biceps. “We’re celebrating.”

“Not working?” Gray asked. “It’s going to be work trying to shove you into your suit, so you might want to amend that statement.”

Avery ran a hand over his burgeoning stomach and glowered. “Isn’t there a law that says you can’t be mean to an omega before his mating ceremony?”

Brett chuckled at the offended look on Avery’s face. “He’s only stating facts. You’re huge.”

Avery gasped. “You’re supposed to have my back!”

Brett immediately spun to face Gray. “Stop picking on your round little nephew. It’s his mating day.”

“Round?” Avery asked, eyes wide. “That’s it… you’re both exiled. Get out of my house.”

Exiled? Brett’s smile faded. To some degree, he already felt as if he were exiled.

“I suppose that means he’s going to the ceremony in that ratty robe,” Gray said to Brett.

“Ratty? It’s brand new!” Avery said, though Brett and Gray ignored him.

“I bet his alpha’s rich family would just loooove that,” Brett replied, forcing a new smile on his lips. “Though, it would be easy access after the reception. Wilder might appreciate that.”

“As if we’re going to be doing much of anything except sleep tonight,” Avery muttered. “Honestly, I might not even get that. I’ve slept in fits for days.”

“The baby’s coming soon,” Gray said. “Hopefully we make it through this ceremony tonight.”

“Don’t you dare jinx me,” Avery snapped, eyeing his uncle. “We are not having this baby tonight.” Avery stretched his back, wincing. “Though, I’m very, very ready to not be pregnant anymore.”

Gray grinned. “If you think you’re going to sleep any better once you have him, you’re wrong.”

“Maybe I should give in and let Wilder hire a manny,” Avery said before reclaiming his spot on the couch, dropping with a huff. “I hate the idea of a bunch of strangers being in our house. Wilder’s used to that, I’m not.”

“Your parents had a part-time housekeeper,” Gray said.

“And we will, too,” Avery said. “That’s all I’ve agreed to.” He rubbed his belly. “Yet the idea of having an extra set of hands around just for the baby—so I can get a nap on occasion—is awfully tempting right now as sleep deprived as I am.”

“Oh, let me tell you…” Gray said before extolling the virtues of having a manny.

Brett sat back, listening—and once again felt left out. He knew nothing of babies, except that his older brother had a couple and that seemed to be the only things his parents could ever talk about. He hadn’t spent much time with his nephews, not because he disliked kids but because his entire family had turned their backs on him when he’d failed to graduate Waltyn & Marris on time. He’d not heard from a single family member in months—not even when he’d finally graduated a semester later on his own dime.

Growing up the only beta in a family full of alphas and omegas hadn’t been easy. In their eyes, he wasn’t much more than the help. His parents had made it abundantly clear that he’d contribute nothing toward the next generation’s gene pool, so he was insignificant in their eyes. His papa had kept him busy with cleaning and organizing the house, preparing him for the life of service they’d expected he’d lead. His father had feigned interest, at best. His eldest brother had bullied him, claiming it was out of love. His younger brothers, one alpha and one omega, had pretty well ignored him as best they could.

So he’d gotten loud. He’d made it impossible for any of them to ignore him for long. He’d made their comfortable lives as uncomfortable as possible, as often as possible. Trouble had become his middle name.

His gaze drifted to Avery. He didn’t want to get loud again, and potentially push his best friend farther onto that new path—the one taking the guy away from him.

The path that probably didn’t have room for Brett on it, anyway.

Avery caught his gaze and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Brett sat straighter and smiled. “What? Wrong? Nothing.”

“I can see it on your face, Brett. Something’s up.”

Brett shrugged. “Just wondering when we’re getting this show on the road. Unless you’d prefer to be late for your own ceremony, that is.”

Avery narrowed his eyes, clearly not convinced. He rose to his feet and appeared to let it slide. Brett would need to be careful. Avery knew him too well. “Let’s get me shoved into that suit, then. If I hear either of you laugh, I’m stabbing you both. I learned how to make a shank in prison.”

“No you didn’t,” Brett argued, grinning.

“You don’t know what I learned there,” Avery replied, chuckling. “Maybe I did and maybe I didn’t. Either way, I’m sure I can find something sharp and stabby, if needed.”

Brett searched the barren, pale-blue, barely furnished bedroom. “I think we’re good, Gray. Thank the gods they haven’t finished the house yet.”

“Another reason why the baby can’t come right now,” Avery said as he drew his suit from the closet. “We need to do so much to get this place ready before I give birth.”

“A few important rooms are done. That’s enough to get started,” Gray said. “The rest can come later.”

“The nursery isn’t finished,” Avery argued, waving a hand around the room. “The painters were doing final touch-ups today. Hopefully that means it’s the last time we see the work crew inside the house. If so, we can roll the crib in here and finish decorating tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Aren’t you going away for a post-mating holiday?” Brett asked.

“Not with the baby coming any day,” Avery said. “Once he’s weaned, we’ll go on a little adventure, just the two of us.”

“Unless you get pregnant again,” Gray whispered.

“Stop! I’m going back to work in a few months. I will have a career, come hell or high water.”

Brett eyed his best friend, self-doubt creeping in. Avery, even with all the shit that had been thrown his way, still pretty much had his life together. He’d graduated top of his class, worked an internship, and was soon to be working under the CFO of Jaymes & Associates. Brett had fucked up college, had to stay an extra semester to finish, and graduated without honors. Instead of going out to build a career after he’d finally earned that degree, he was still working at the restaurant. Sure, he’d taken over Avery’s part-time bookkeeping responsibilities, but he was basically in the same exact spot five years later.

He was terrified of the life waiting for him—mostly because he didn’t know where he wanted to go. If all he had to look forward to was a life of servitude, as his papa and brother had pummeled him with his entire life, then did it really matter what he did? While many betas he knew were glad to be left outside the constraints of heats and ruts and families to raise, Brett longed for it. He’d never admitted it to anyone, but he wanted children and a family of his own, things he’d never be able to have. He had vivid dreams of himself pregnant, in bed beside a loving alpha—who was usually in the form of Pierce. He hated waking those mornings. They left him depressed to return to his reality.

He was simply a cog in the birthers’ machine and there was no way out, no matter how many rules he broke.

Brett didn’t understand why Avery would’ve wanted the life of a beta. To forgo a family for a career? It was an empty existence, at least in Brett’s opinion. He’d give anything to be an omega—and have the chance to be a papa.

After helping Avery into his suit and then getting into his own, he sat back and watched Gray braiding Avery’s growing hair. It was only shoulder length—nowhere near as long as was the fashion for an omega—but longer than Brett had ever seen it. It was odd seeing Avery changed and sliding back into his life as an omega.

Brett desperately wished he could follow. He wanted to be on that same path. An omega, about to be mated and ready to start a family. He closed his eyes, picturing him in his dreams. Pierce’s smiling face flashed in his mind. He saw himself swollen and round, like Avery, in Pierce’s arms with a toddler between them.

Opening his eyes, Brett cringed, his stomach clenching hard again. Brett let out a light gasp, running a hand over his abdomen.

“Are you okay?” Avery asked, his brow deeply furrowed.

“I’m fine,” Brett lied.

Avery lifted a brow.

“My stomach’s been off today. Something I ate, I think,” Brett fibbed. Avery’s eyes widened. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Avery’s frown softened but didn’t go away. “Are you sure?”

Brett winced again as another pain hit.

Avery rose unsteadily. “We should get you to an urgent care.”

“No!” Brett said, rising to his full height and waylaying that command with an outstretched palm. “I’m good. It’s probably… just gas.” His cheeks flamed at the admission, even if it was a lie. He chuckled to hide his embarrassment.

Avery searched Brett’s face, unconvinced. “If you’re really in pain, you need to see a doctor. Not later. Now. Please don’t lie because it’s my mating day and you have some illusions that you’re ruining something, because you wouldn’t be. If you’re ill or in pain, you need help.”

“I’m not lying. I swear.” He was going to rot for lying, but he would totally ruin Avery’s day if he left. He’d make it through, one way or another.

“Avery has some gas pills in his bathroom. I saw them on the counter earlier,” Gray offered. “Go grab a couple. Maybe that’ll help.”

Avery rubbed his belly, cheeks growing pink. “I’ve never been so gassy since getting knocked up. I eat those things like candy some days.”

Brett chuckled. “I’ll give them a try.”

“Make sure you knock. Wilder’s probably still getting ready in there,” Gray said.

“Why does he get your bedroom? You’re the pregnant omega. You should be in there,” Brett said as he strode for the door. “And he should be in here.”

“I wanted to be in here,” Avery answered, a soft smile on his face as he glanced around the room. “It’s going to be the baby’s nursery. I want to leave some happy memories in here for him.”

Brett saw the wistful smile on Avery’s face and tamped down on his rising jealousy. After closing the door behind him, he wandered down the hall and found Wilder’s bedroom door open. There were two other alphas just inside—Wilder’s younger brother, Vaughn, and his best friend Rohan, who was also mated to Gray.

“How’s it going down there? Is Avery ready?” Wilder asked. He moved in closer and whispered, “Nothing’s wrong, right? No cold feet?”

“I think it’s a little late for indecision now,” Brett said. “Not when he’s as big as a house.”

Wilder grinned. “I suppose not.”

“I just need to get something out of your bathroom.”

Wilder stepped back. “Grab whatever you need.”

After nodding hello to the other men, Brett sauntered into the bathroom. He quickly found the pills in between the double sinks—but as he lifted his gaze, he saw a message written on the corner of the extra-wide bathroom mirror.

I love you twice as much today as I did yesterday.

-W

Brett smiled to himself, gaze flicking to a similar message on the other corner.

You called me your sun and moon… but you’re my whole world. We’ll soon dot the sky with our stars.

Love, A

Brett read and reread their messages, his heart tightening. A sudden rush of tears—actual tears—came to his eyes. He never cried. Never. Willing them away, he eyed himself in the mirror. “Get it together, Brett,” he whispered to himself.

The cramping pains had been coming and going for some time, but so had waves of uncontrolled emotion. He knew something was wrong and he needed to see a doctor, but what if it was something really bad? Like really, really bad? Ignoring it wasn’t going to help, either. He knew that… but he’d hoped it would go away on its own. He wasn’t sure he had the strength, or the bank account, to handle a serious illness. After becoming the part-time bookkeeper, he’d gotten Lambeau’s health insurance, but the basic plan he’d been able to afford was meager, at best. He spent nearly every dime he had to pay for the last, extra semester of school that his parents had refused to cover, but then, why should they? He’d been the fuckup.

He tossed back two of the gas pills, sure they’d likely not help but maybe they’d take the edge off. Who knew? If he could just get through the evening, he’d be good. After pocketing a couple more, he returned to Avery’s bedroom with a forced smile, lying about already feeling better.

Brett wore that same smile through the service, standing at Avery’s side in the evening twilight. His mind raced back to Avery and Wilder’s messages for one another. There they stood, giving themselves to one another at dusk—the moment the sun and moon met above the earth under the stars. He saw the love in their eyes as they looked at one another and Brett wondered if he’d ever have anything like it.

His gaze drifted to Pierce.

Pierce’s stare was already trained on him.

Brett snagged his away. He did his best not to look again, but his gaze kept returning against his will. Each and every time, Pierce was staring at him. It made his face grow redder and his gut ache as the service progressed. He was elated when it was over, and he could go hide from Pierce at the opposite end of the table.

While those present congratulated the happy pair, he took the last two pills and hoped for the best. He marched to his assigned seat—but found someone already sitting there. Brett scanned the setting and didn’t see his name. After traveling the entire table in search of his card, he found it.

Right beside Pierce.

Pierce slid out the empty chair wearing a victorious smile. As soon as Brett plopped down and crossed his arms over his chest, Pierce leaned in close.

“Two can play the musical chairs number.”

“I could make tonight hell for you,” Brett whispered back.

“And ruin Avery’s perfect night? I doubt it.”

Brett’s gaze whipped to Avery angled across from him, in the center of the table beside Wilder. Stars shone in Avery’s eyes every time he looked up at his alpha. Brett couldn’t help but smile at the happiness his best friend had found. He might be a little jealous, but he truly was happy for Avery and Wilder. They both deserved the love they shared with one another.

Pierce crowded close, that hint of cologne and fresh-smelling alpha filling his nose once more. “Can’t we call a truce for one night?”

Brett bit the inside of his cheek, his stomach cramping again. He realized Pierce’s arm lay over the back of his chair, touching his back when he relaxed into it. He stiffened, trying to create distance without being a total asshole. “Sure.”

Pierce smiled at him. Not a fake smile or the professional one he’d seen a million times before, but a true, happy grin—and it nearly took his breath away.

And another cramp came on the heels of it. He leaned forward and gripped the edge of the table tight.

“Brett?”

Brett released a slow breath before turning to eye Pierce. “Yeah?”

“You don’t look well.”

“I’m fine,” Brett whispered, reaching for a recently poured glass of champagne. He downed it before turning to the server and demanding another.

“It’s for the toast,” Pierce whispered, grabbing the fluted base and dragging the refilled glass from Brett’s lips before the second one disappeared, too.

Brett’s hand shook. He lowered the glass and tore his gaze from Pierce’s.

Pierce leaned even closer, his lips a mere inch away from Brett’s ear. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” Brett said, perhaps a wee bit louder than anticipated. Several people turned to stare. Brett forced a smile until they looked away. He faced Pierce again, another massive cramp hitting him. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“If I can have everyone’s attention?” Wilder called over the table.

Brett sighed with relief when Pierce’s attention drifted. He attempted to listen to Wilder’s speech, but his stomach was in painful knots. It was next to impossible to hear much more than every third or fourth word. When everyone applauded and lifted their glasses, Brett followed their lead. When he drained the glass, he leaned back in the seat and found Pierce watching him closely.

The wait staff swooped in and placed the appetizer on each setting in quick succession. Brett forced himself to eat, hoping that might help. He’d eaten little that day or the one before it. Perhaps his stomach was rebelling extra hard for that reason. Yet, he couldn’t get more than a few bites of any of the six courses down his throat.

“Not hungry? Or ill?”

Brett glared at Pierce. “I’m watching my figure.”

“You’re sweating,” Pierce whispered in his ear.

Brett had already felt the fine sheen breaking out over his forehead and the back of his neck. “It’s hot out.”

While it was warmer than Brett had expected, it was nowhere near hot.

“If you’re unwell, I can get you out of here without causing a scene, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Brett almost agreed. He needed space away from everyone, but especially away from Pierce. No way was he leaving with the guy. He rose—just as the musicians began to play. “I’m fine.”

If he had to say ‘I’m fine’ one more time, he might lose his mind.

Before he could get more than two steps away, Pierce had ahold of him and led him to the dance floor. He pulled Brett’s arms around him and swayed to the music. Tucking a thumb under Brett’s chin, he forced a stare his way. “You’re not fine. I can see it in your eyes.”

Cradled in Pierce’s embrace was the one place he’d never expected to find himself. If he’d not felt like hell, perhaps he could’ve enjoyed it. Instead, Brett fought a reaction to another heavy cramp.

Pierce watched him a few more seconds—and then quickly led him off the dance floor and inside the house. He pushed them past the servers and into the den at the back of the house. Once Brett was seated, Pierce knelt in front of him.

It was too close.

Too intimate.

Brett’s stomach rebelled even harder. Leaning forward, he breathed through the cramping.

“I know you don’t want to ruin Avery’s night, but I think he’d be more upset you were hiding that you were sick.”

“I’m fin—” Brett was unable to finish as another massive spasm claimed his abdomen.