Gold Rush (Golden Omegaverse #1)

Chapter 6 – June

CHAPTER SIX

JUNE

There’s a sleek black car waiting outside the Designation Center for us, and I don’t know if it’s their personal valet, or a rental. It doesn’t matter, in the grand scheme of things, because the second we step out, there’s a barrage of camera flashes and people screaming questions at me.

Seth’s hand on my back is the only stability I have to get from point A to point B. Bennett takes up the rear, snarling something at a man behind us as he puts my bag into the car, and then we’re in the backseat, two bench seats facing each other.

The flashes cut off when the door slams shut.

Denise seemed thrilled for me when I left the conference room to find her and Bennett in the hallway. Seth had touched my back while Denise looked up at Bennett with wide eyes, and, I don’t think I imagined the way Seth’s fingers flexed, almost possessively as he moved us toward the alpha. I didn’t mind, a small part of me was on board to squish the alpha between the two of us so no one else would look at him.

I’m not blind — Bennett is handsome .

Regardless, no one stopped me from leaving, but they also didn’t stop the rush of reporters ready to pounce. I’ve sold enough books to know what comfort looks like in knowing my rent is covered, but never enough to be subjected to the brunt of public speculation.

The roar of voices dies down as I sit in the back of the car, running my hands over my arms self-consciously as Seth’s jacket hangs over my shoulders. He glances at me, then shifts closer. “You’ll like our townhouse. Arin found it and we all have our own space. There’s a guest room on the second floor across from mine and Bennett’s room.”

“Thank you.” My eyes fall on the aforementioned alpha across from us. “I really appreciate —”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he cuts me off quickly, but gently. He adjusts, like he’s keeping his distance as he glances out of the window at the reporters, frowning. “I… I don’t think I knew how bad those places were.”

Seth scoffs. “Downright fucking inhumane.” His hands move, and then he pulls his jacket tighter around me, flashing me a smile. “You’re lucky I didn’t run after you last night.”

A flush rises on my cheeks. “I don’t think they would have let you in after hours.”

Seth’s answering grin is downright naughty. “Probably not, but I could have caused some chaos.”

I laugh, my lips twitching as I try to fight the smile. It shouldn’t be this easy for him to get a reaction out of me, but each one seems to spur him on.

He leans in closer, his grin growing. “I mean big, huge commotion.” He nudges me. “I’m talking throwing rocks through those glass walls at the front — who the fuck puts that much glass all over a building meant to keep a low profile, anyway? Stupid.”

I laugh harder, shaking my head at him. “I don’t know, but the main office had street facing windows. That’s all I’ve heard the past two nights — traffic. And it was so bright ,” I whine the last word, thankful the car interior is darker.

“That’s a crime.” Seth looks down at me. “I can’t believe they’d risk your beauty sleep like that. It doesn’t seem to have affected you though.”

Scoffing, I lift a hand, pressing it against my cheeks, worried that they’re bright red. For a moment Seth’s gaze flickers down to my lips. The car suddenly feels no bigger than the eye of a pin. His lips part, his tongue appearing as it runs over the plump flesh of his lower lip, and my breath catches as his hand moves, knuckles brushing my cheek.

Then he just pushes my hair back and tilts his head, his smile goofy, the tension breaking apart. “What do you want for lunch? We’ll order something to eat after you get settled.”

I sink into the car seat, unable to stop smiling at the man next to me as he goads me into admitting I’ve had a diet entirely of vending machine snacks for two days straight. The car slows to a stop and Bennett climbs out first, turning immediately to offer me a hand.

It shocks me, but as I glance up at him, I recognize the same look of surprise — like he didn’t even know he was going to do it himself. On auto-pilot, I reach out and take it. The slide of my palm against his sends sparks up my arm, like a continuous zap of static electricity.

Bennett’s grip tightens and he pulls , our chests touching as I’m suddenly upright on the sidewalk, my head tilted, staring at him wide-eyed as a rich, deep vibration travels from his chest all the way down to my hand and up my arm.

He’s purring .

Even though I’ve never heard the deep, contented sound, my body reacts, preening like he’s just given me a deluge of compliments. An alpha’s purr is supposed to comfort stressed out omegas, or show their pleasure with something — like their bodies can’t possibly contain their emotions, whether to comfort or to endear.

And he’s purring because he’s touching me .

All too quick Bennett steps away. My mind spins as his touch falls away and my bones near-ache from the sudden separation as he steps to the back of the car. I watch as Bennett tugs out my suitcase from the trunk as Seth joins me outside the car.

Seth ushers me up a paved pathway as my eyes rise and rise , taking in the white townhouse.

I can’t tell exactly how many levels it has, but it must be at least three. My brain struggles to act normal as it catalogues the fact they own a home minutes outside of Central London, multi-storied on a quiet stretch of equally luxurious residential properties. The front garden looks professionally manicured with a small stone path on the side that clearly leads to a garage.

I can’t even fathom what a place like this would cost.

Before I can even guess a number, Seth tugs me through the front door. Inside, the marble floor lining the foyer sparkles, stairs leading up, hallways creating offshoots — it’s too much to take in. Seth points out the front rooms quickly — a kitchen, a small living room, a hallway to the back, the mention of the garage — and then he moves us toward the stairs that shoot up to the next level. As he tugs on me gently to get me to follow him, he glances back, his smile wide as he motions to a door on the next level, barely letting me take in the polished wood finishes.

“Bennett and I are in here, and this” — he opens the door across from his and Bennett’s room — “is the guest room — your room.” Seth motions me inside, flipping the lights on. “The bathroom is through there, if you want to wash up.”

I stop in the middle of the room, spinning in a little circle, my head whirling with my body. The walls are a light gray, cool-toned and simple, with a plush bed against one wall. Seth lingers near the door to the hall, looking over at me.

Opening my mouth, I try to formulate an appropriate response — but he only reaches out and takes my hand again, squeezing it.

“Why don’t I order our food and let you settle?”

Nodding slowly, I lick my lips as he lets my hand go, making a beeline for the door. This is all too much — too fast — he can’t just leave when he’s the only reason I feel safe for the first time since leaving my stupid apartment three days ago —

“Seth, wait .” He staggers to a stop as I stare at him, my heart going wild. I clear my throat, trying in vain not to break down in front of him, putting all my gratefulness and overwhelming emotions into my voice instead. “Thank you for getting me out of there.”

Reality crashes down as he hesitates. His long brown hair is slightly unkempt, falling out of the bun on his head, and he levels me with a look that has my stomach flipping.

“My biggest regret is leaving that bar without your name and number. My second biggest regret wasn’t stopping you before you left the coffee shop. Luckily, the universe decided to give me a third chance — and I’m not stupid enough to waste it, June. Go shower, unpack, do whatever you want to do, and I’ll order you food and see you downstairs when you’re ready.”

I let out a surprised breath as he shuts the door behind him, leaving the room.

The relief hits me — of being clear of the center, at the fact there is nothing expected from being here, that I can breathe — all my emotions come crashing down. Tears well, overflowing as I break, covering my face with both my hands as I just feel . I’m not even sure it’s enough time for Seth to have left the hallway, but I don’t care.

I step over and throw the lock on the door for my own peace of mind, before fumbling with my phone, Seth’s jacket still on my shoulders as I plug my charger into a socket. The bathroom is spotless when I walk in, and I turn the shower knob to scalding hot, staring at the bottles of scent-canceling shampoo and body wash sitting on the tiled bench inside.

I’ll try to reach out to my parents later, but right now I don’t have the energy. I want to tell them that I can’t fly back, that I’m not lying, that I need someone to give me an ounce of guidance — but it doesn’t matter anymore.

It was enough effort to gather my things and leave the center. The downstairs receptionist stopped us before we walked out so I could sign more paperwork, all while telling me that one pack cancelled on seeing me and someone else called claiming they were my brother, insisting on a meeting — but I don’t have any siblings. Bullets dodged .

The hot water helps me feel human again as I put myself back together, taking time to scrub the shampoo through my hair, lathering up the body wash. It takes my own scent with it down the drain, but it also clears the mix of other smells from the center. I glance at the bottles, wondering if Seth put them here — and how he had the time, but I try not to linger on it as I dig through my carry on, an oversized fluffy towel to my chest. It’s shockingly soft, but, not only that, it’s big enough to cover all of me, from my full chest to my wide hips.

I ignore the clothes I packed with the intent to look nice at my signings and go straight for the only other pair of leggings I brought with me. Shimmying them over my ass and hips, I shove my sweatshirt over my head.

My bag is woefully empty. The pile of clothing left absolutely pathetic, stranded here until I can figure out what to do — or until someone, somewhere, decides it’s okay for me to travel home.

The nausea returns with a vengeance, my stomach roiling as I wrap an arm around myself.

A light knock on the door makes me flinch, before Bennett’s voice carries through the wood. “The food is here, and it’s hot. Seth wanted me to offer to bring it to you — but I think you should come downstairs.”

I turn and eye the wood separating us, chewing on my lip as Bennett spurs forward.

“I know this all is probably overwhelming, but you can eat with us.” His voice softens. “Just consider this your new hotel. Everything else can be figured out tomorrow, after you have food and rest.” He pauses. “I…” There’s a soft thunk, and I swear it’s the sound of his forehead hitting the door. “I don’t feel great that I had to sign you out of that place. I want you to know that. You’re not… mine now, or Seth’s — so please don’t think that. He did this because… well, Seth just does shit sometimes. But please feel like you can just be here. There are no expectations.”

I scramble forward, saving this painfully awkward alpha from himself and unlock the door, opening it. His head jolts, looking down at me with wide eyes. They’re brown, but unlike Seth’s light brown eyes, Bennett’s are deep, beautifully dark.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised you were listening to me make an idiot of myself.”

“Like you said, we don’t have to hash it out now, we can just eat.”

He nods slowly, pressing his full lips together as he stares at me. Bennett doesn’t move, his eyes flickering over my baggy sweatshirt and leggings, catching on my wet hair. “Yeah, we can just eat.”

My stomach flutters. He’s not the first alpha I’ve seen today, but he is the first one to make me feel like I’m not a disaster. His expression isn’t one of pity, it’s layered concern and something more simmering under the surface.

“I kind of have to leave the room to go downstairs.”

“Right.” He jumps back, clearing the doorway before stumbling to the side and motioning sharply to the stairs. “Food’s this way — kitchen is — I mean Seth showed you that and we don’t eat at the table — but —”

I press my lips together, trying to hide my laugh as I ease the door shut behind me. “But the food is downstairs.”

“ Yeah .” He runs a hand over his head again, sucking in a quick breath.

I turn and slowly start down the stairs, his tread echoing behind me as he makes a small embarrassed noise. At least I’m not the only catastrophe here.