Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Tatum
I’m tired today. Sometimes, it feels like I just stay tired. Like there’s no in between for me. I’m either tired or asleep. No amount of sleep makes me feel rested enough.
A little voice in the back of my head is whispering that the change of my suppressants might have something to do with it, but I ignore that voice. One thing I won’t be doing is coming off my meds.
Currently, I’m working another midday shift at the diner, trying not to give into the temptation to go nap in Bernie’s office. I’d need to clock out for that, and I can’t afford to.
So instead, I make another cup of coffee and struggle to keep myself up and moving for the rest of my shift. Three more hours to go. I’ve only been here for two. Most of my shifts at the diner are five hours these days. I only work a couple of times a week, too. Sometimes three or four, depending on how busy we are.
I’ll go home and nap before my shift at Haze tonight. I can probably get a few hours in before I need to get ready. I’ve almost made it to my four weeks, and I’m loving it. Last night, I might have taken a cuff link from a customer, but in my defense, he’d smacked my ass without permission.
Something that doesn’t happen very often, since the club has a no groping rule unless you’ve paid to do so. I get the feeling that's not a super common rule in most clubs like Haze, since most of the time we have to remind the handsier clients.
Just last night, I watched Bubblegum tie an Alpha’s hands behind his back for copping a feel of her ass after being warned to quit touching passing Omegas. It backfired, though, because the Alpha seemed super into being tied up. On the plus side, Bubblegum made a hefty tip.
It’s not long before another customer is seated in my section, so I head over there to take his order. I’m trying really hard to muster the energy to look like I’m more than happy to be here today.
Normally, I would stand beside the customer’s table for this, but when I see who it is, I plop into the booth across from him. When I’m tired, I care a lot less about rules or expectations.
“I haven’t seen you in here before.” I’m tilting my head as I observe the Alpha across from me. “What brings you into Mom’s?” I’m reminded of a time when Declan visited me here, before he became my boss just a few weeks ago. This almost feels like history repeating itself.
“I’m curious about the pie selection offered here at Mom’s.” The man smiles, leaning forward until he’s resting his arms on the table. The smile he sends my way is bright and almost sweet in a way I’m not used to from Alphas. His hair is that sexy sort of messy that looks like someone just had their hands buried in it while they fucked him. And in the bright lights of the diner, his tattoos are even more interesting.
“Everett?” I confirm, and he nods, but there’s a look of annoyance that crosses his face when I say his name. His scent is the same as I remember it from around a week ago when he was in Haze on my day off. Artificial brownies. The fat free kind that promises one thing but gives you another. Chocolate that has a weird chemical aftertaste. Not quite right. He hasn’t been back since then. At least not while I was working.
“And you’re Tatum. Tell me, Tatum, what’s your favorite thing to eat here at Mom’s?”
I lean back against the booth and nibble my lip for a moment as I think. “I don’t know. I like nearly everything Chef cooks. I’m not super picky, either.” I shrug, “What are some things you enjoy normally, besides pie?”
“I like most food as well, actually, but I’m craving something sweeter today.”
“I’ll go see what we’ve got. Do you want a drink?”
“Just water, thank you.” I can feel his eyes on me as I walk away and can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking about. His scent doesn’t give any of his emotions away, so I’m left guessing. Maybe he uses some kind of suppressant mixed with a cover-up.
When I return with a cup of ice water and a slice of apple pie, Everett grins, rubbing the palms of his hands together. “Oh, yeah, this looks perfect.” Even his hands are tattooed, I realize. That's sexy in a way I don’t fully understand.
“It’s one of the bestsellers. I hope you enjoy it!” I place his plate down, and I’m about to go check on my other tables when he stops me.
“When do you get off? Can I take you for dinner?”
I almost want to say yes, but I have work, and I can’t give up that nap before my shift. If I tell him this, will he believe me? Hayden hasn’t been nagging me to drive me to the diner, but I can’t walk to Haze without that Alpha-hole honking his horn at me the whole fucking way. It’s easier to just give in.
What would he do if he saw another man, another Alpha, giving me a ride after taking me to dinner?
“I have to head home after this. I need a nap before my second job.” I wince, because that sounded so fake, but it’s the truth. I try to smooth it over. I like Everett, and wouldn’t mind getting to know him more. “Maybe you could take me to dinner tomorrow? I don’t have a shift here, so I can sleep in a bit more.”
Normally, I wouldn’t agree to a date, but Everett, there's something about him that puts me at ease. Maybe it’s because he’s not a conventional Alpha. He’s softer somehow, and less dominant. Not as intimidating and really fucking handsome. He’s not my boss, or my ex-best friend, either. Thus, uncomplicated.
I agreed to have him pick me up at six this evening for dinner at a nearby restaurant. When he pulls up, I can’t help but snort a laugh.
He’s driving what can only be described as something you’d see a pimp in a movie driving. A purple box looking car with bright gold rims, and a lifted front. The inside is covered in purple velvet, and I give Everett a questioning look.
He’s rolled the windows down, so I lean forward on the driver's side and peek in at him.
“This is actually ridiculous, Everett,” I giggle, but instead of looking amused, he frowns.
“Easton.”
“What?”
“My name. It’s Easton. I don’t like giving it out, but it turns out I like hearing you call me by the wrong name even less.” There's a hint of a growl in his tone, but he doesn’t sound dominant like Alphas usually are. Maybe a little possessive.
“Oh. Well then, I guess it’s nice to meet you, Easton.” Despite the change in name, I don’t find myself reluctant to go with him. I think about it for a second as I take in the sight of him. He looks unreasonably sexy right now. He’s wearing a white v-neck t-shirt, and black jeans. From here, I can just catch a glimpse of one of his shoes. Black combat style boots.
He’s got several rings on his fingers and thumbs, a couple reaching just past the first knuckles. As well as a ton of black string bracelets on one wrist, and on the other, has a combination of black and silver string and metal bracelets.
The necklaces are no less sexy the second time around. A small string of mini pearls and a gold chain hang around his neck, and I suddenly feel fucking feral.
I’m wearing a simple flowy pink sundress and strappy white sandals. I left my hair down and curled and only put on a little makeup.
“I think I like Easton better.” My voice is breathy, and I make my way to the passenger side door. As I slide into my seat, I take a deep breath. His scent hasn’t necessarily changed, but there's a hint of another lingering scent. A sweeter brownie. Thoughts of gooey warm brownie and vanilla ice cream flood my mind.
Sheesh. Maybe I need to buy a second kind of suppressant. The scent of my arousal fills the car, and I whine. I’m so embarrassed that I cut the whine off and end up in a coughing fit.
Easton pats my back gently, and when I finally get my shit together, he’s watching me intently.
“Sorry about that,” I murmur.
Easton shrugs, returning his attention to the task of driving. We pull out of my complex and head down the main street.
“Instincts can be a real bitch sometimes,” he grumbles, and I nod my agreement. They really can.
When we park at our destination, I frown. “This isn’t…”
“I know. I thought you’d like this more.”
Through the windshield, I see the neon colors of comics and vintage games adorning the side of a large, black, brick building, while flashing lights are just visible in the front windows under a bright yellow overhang. SMASH is written in bold letters just above.
Easton is out of the car and promptly jumps across the hood to get to my side before I can open the door. He’s practically skipping as he drags me inside. I can’t help but giggle as we enter the dimly lit arcade. The restaurant is attached at the back, but the entire front is nothing but games.
After exchanging a fistful of cash for game tokens, he drags me over to the first set of skeeball machines.
Easton has clearly been here before because he spends an hour kicking my ass at every game we try. I’m having a blast though, and when we’re done he gives me his tickets, and I pick out a stuffed teddy bear to take home.
When we finally collapse into a booth to order dinner, he sits forward enough that his knees touch mine under the scarred tabletop. He’s holding my hand, our fingers laced, as we sit in the booth looking at the menu. Placing the neon-turquoise bear on the seat by my hip, I am already wondering if it will manage to capture any of his scent on the ride home… I take the opportunity to unclasp one of his bracelets and stuff it in the purse I brought with me. I don’t even know which one I got, but I didn’t get the feeling these were sentimental, more of a style choice.
Once the food arrives, he releases my hand, but between every bite of his food, his hand lands on my thigh.
“Tell me about yourself.”
The question stops me mid-chew. I think for a moment. “What do you want to know? You already know I work at Mom’s as well as Haze. I live with my mom. Right now, I take care of her since she can’t work anymore.” I won't go into detail about why. “I like the colors pink and purple, and I–” I almost confessed that I enjoy stealing things… Maybe Easton relaxes me a little too well. “I like collecting things. Um.” I nibble my lip trying to think of things I like to do, or…anything else, but I come up blank.
“What do you collect?” Easton asks softly, and I shrug.
“Different things. Nothing in particular.” For some reason, I’m stuck on my answer, though. That all I could think of was theft. I used to enjoy other things.
Coloring books and painting. Writing in a journal. All things I used to do with Hayden, but stopped when he broke my heart. Maybe I’m more fucked up than I realized.
“What about you? Tell me what you like doing.” I consider asking why he gave me a fake name too, but that’s probably just because we met in a bar and giving strangers your real name can be risky.
“Lots of things. Jumping out of planes, arcades.” He bumps my shoulder as he grins at me. “Pretty Omegas named Tatum.” This time he watches me as he says the words, his gaze dropping to my lips as he leans closer. “I like dancing and fighting. Fucking…” his eyes lift to meet mine, and I swallow thickly. Fucking… He smirks like he only added the last word to tease me. If he did, it worked. My stomach did a violent flip at his words, and my core heated, slick threatening to soak my panties.
“Sounds exciting to be you,” I murmur, and he grins brightly, breaking the intimate spell he’d trapped me in.
“You have no idea.”
After we finish eating, Easton drives me home so I can get ready for my shift at Haze. When he walks me to the door of my apartment, holding my hand once again, my heart flutters with joy because of the date we had.
“I had fun tonight. Thank you, Easton, for taking me out.”
“It was my pleasure, Tatum.” He leans forward, pressing a chaste kiss to my cheek. The temptation to drag my cheek against his to leave a scent mark, flashes through me before he pulls back. As he walks away, I can’t help but feel that deep, achy feeling of loneliness sinking in once again. “Until next time,” Easton calls out as he makes his way down the stairs, and I smile, but it feels sad.
I don’t know if I’ll do that again. Because right now, watching him walk away, feels like being punched in the gut. If things got more serious, if I let him get to know me, then how bad would the fall-out be for me when he walked away, and never came back?