Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
Twenty-three texts from Maverick and one missed call from King. Considering I’m a nosy bitch, it’s not hard to figure out who I call first.
Maverick picks up on the first ring. “I didn’t think you’d call.” The tone in his voice is light years from the one yesterday where he told me to fuck off.
“Trust me, I nearly didn’t. Call me inquisitive but I need to know if you lied to me.”
“I’m not patched, Tristan. Please, you have to believe me,” he says quietly, his voice echoes as he closes a door by the sounds.
“I believed you yesterday, now I’m feeling like an idiot which is why I called, hoping you could explain what the hell happened,” I offer, rolling onto my side.
“You’re not an idiot. It’s a complicated story but I’ll fill you in on all the details, Tristan. We could do it right now, I could pick you up for breakfast in under thirty minutes. You’re at Unity, right?”
“I can’t. I’ve got classes this morning, and an appointment this afternoon. What happened after I left?” I interrupt him.
“Not much. We chased shadows until the police started harassing everyone.”
“Why were you there then, Maverick?”
“One of my pack needed me, so I went. You were not meant to be there.”
“So, you’re saying if I wasn’t, I’d never know? I’d be none the wiser?”
“I didn’t say that. Obviously, I would have explained so you’d be prepared when you met the rest of my pack,” he says.
“Jumping the gun there, sunshine,” I mumble, reaching over to turn off my second alarm. “Maverick, the Death Riders? They’re not great people.”
“I’ve got two Alphas in my pack. I’m trying to get away from the club. The president is a cock.”
“Yeah, well maybe you should focus on setting your life up and give me a call when you’re done. Pretty sure I don’t need the drama no matter how pretty you are,” I say, walking into my bathroom.
He chuckles, and it is nearly obscene how good it sounds. It almost rolls into a purr when he speaks. “So you do think I’m pretty? I’d prefer fit or hot as fuck.”
“Of course you would.” I laugh back, enamoured with his ego despite the lies he told.
Propping my phone up on the ledge, I put our call over to handsfree as I start the water.
He stammers, “What are you doing?”
“Showering.” I smirk, thinking it was pretty obvious.
“You can’t do that,” he says quietly.
“Actually, Maverick, I can. Why do you think I can’t by the way?” I purposely tease him, payback for the way he distracts me from him acting shady one second and making me ga-ga with his confidence the next.
“You’re naked.”
I bark out a laugh, looking down at myself. “Holy shit, I am.”
His groan follows me under the water. “This is your payback?”
“Nah, this is me multitasking. Honestly, Maverick, if it was payback, I’d turn the camera on for you.”
“I admit I’ve been bad, I need to be punished,” he says quickly, and his apologetic tone is non-existent, his sparkling self-assurance shining bright. And God, I am a sucker for it.
Without thinking too hard about it I press the FaceTime button. I hear another groan before his phone drops and bounces over the floor. “Fuck,” is all I hear, and then a couple of seconds later, his face fills the screen. He looks tired, really tired. The glow of warmth from his hazel eyes is missing, but he’s still drop dead gorgeous.
The little ledge my phone sits on means you can only see the tops of my shoulders, and I know because none of my girls have ever whined about seeing my boobs, and they would.
It’s actually pretty funny watching him try to reach up on his tippy toes to see if he can see more, which he can’t. When he looks back at me, some of the missing intensity in his eyes has come back, along with a dangerous twinkle that I know so well.
“We should do this in person. Not over the phone,” he says, a new edge to his voice.
“Do what?” I tease, taking a step back. A few more and he’ll be able to get a glimpse of what he wants.
“I should be there with you. I know you’d smell incredible and I’d help you out.”
“How?”
“Lots of shower oil is all I need and I’d take my time washing every inch of your body.”
“No sex between us? Wow, I’m kind of surprised because that’s where my mind went. But hey if you…”
“Lots of sex, however you want it. You want me on my knees licking your pussy, I’m there. You want me to take you against the wall with your legs wrapped around my hips…”
I laugh. It sounds perfect really, but I am not going to class all wound up by Maverick’s delayed dirty talk. Especially when I’ve got a long day ahead of me. “Another time perhaps, or maybe not. Before you get the right to touch me, Maverick, I want solid answers.”
“Anytime, you know I offered breakfast already. I could literally tell you all my secrets in about ten minutes, and then the rest of the time…”
“Goodbye, Maverick,” I say laughing.
“Come watch me fight, Tris.”
“When?”
“I’ll send you some tickets to your phone.”
“I like your confidence,” I remark, watching him focus on the phone, he looks up and winks when I get an alert. “That was fast.”
“I can go slow too. You know that, right? I can go however you want… but all jokes aside I’d fucking love it if you came to watch me.”
I tap on the link and read the details; his fight is in a couple of days. Maybe doable. Tapping back to his face, the expectation and hope is endearing but I leave him hanging, showing him a sponge slathered in liquid soap and the handheld shower sprayer. “Bye, Maverick. I got stuff I have to look after.”
“No! Wait.” He practically begs. “Let me take you to breakfast at that swanky place, Roda’s. Please?”
“How do you know Roda’s?” I ask suspiciously.
“I rode past it after our photo shoot; it looked like the sort of place you’d go. How about it? Me and you tomorrow for pancakes and secrets? Sneaky dip into the back room, we could pretend we’re showering?”
Sounds divine but not at Roda’s. I’m not letting my Scorned Girls know a thing about Maverick until I have a better handle on what’s going on between us.
“Make it Timmy Booth’s and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
“No shit?” He looks surprised, and it’s freaking adorable. “Oh my God yes. I’ll pay and we’re sitting next to each other, not opposite.”
“Goodbye, Maverick,” I giggle like a schoolgirl. I can even feel myself blushing at his antics. But instead of stopping, I take a step back far enough for him to see the swell of my boobs before I hang up on him. I flick the faucet to cold and stand under the shower until I get control of my lust.
Drying off and getting ready takes less than ten minutes and I’m hitching my sports knicks out my ass when I sneak into Heidi’s room.
“Ho?” I call out, despite it being pretty obvious she’s not here. But I live in hope that she’s hiding out in the bathroom. The wet tiles and the lingering steam let me know she’s at Unity though.
“She’s in the library catching up on a class project,” Raney yells out from the kitchen.
“Jesus! What the hell, why are you standing in the dark?” I squeak because she scared the shit out of me. Or it might be my guilty conscience because I was seriously about to call King since everyone had already left for class.
“Light broke. Do you think we can change it or does maintenance need to do it?”
“I’m not doing it.” I pull a face at the thought of even trying to change a bulb.
“Fine, I’ll call Dad and he can talk me through it.”
“Definitely staying,” I mumble, finding a breakfast bar and hopping up on a stool to watch.
“You need to do something about your scent by the way,” Raney says offhandedly, her eyes locked on her phone.
“What?” I spit back like an asp.
“You reek like you’re having a spike or something.” She smirks like a devil because she knows how rude it is to call an Omega out on the way they smell, best friend or not. Her whole demeanour changes when King picks up.
“Me?” His deep voice betrays his confusion.
“Not you, King. Tristan.”
“What’s wrong with her?” he demands impatiently.
I scent up a storm in response. I’m so freaking screwed.
Raney’s mood pivots when she realises she’s got King talking about me. She starts back peddling to cover the slight. “Nothing. Hey, Dad, the light in our apartment is broken. Can you walk me through how to change the bulb?”
King ignores the light comment and stays focused on me, which feeds the little happy clouds of my scent filling our apartment. “Why did you say she stinks, Raney? That’s fucking rude, kid. I raised you better than that.”
“Raney thinks I need to get knotted. Are you free later?” I yell out, watching my bestie’s eyes become narrow slits. She drops the phone and charges at me. I barely make it out of our front door with my hair in place but at least I know King’s okay.
Sadly, I spent the day without any of my besties by my side. I seriously hate the Friday timetable for that very reason. Instead, I have to hang out with Bella and her doting fans talking about absolute bullshit for the entire day which makes me as bitchy as Raney was earlier.
To make the entire day worse, by the time I’ve finished a HIIT and Pilates session I think Raney might have been right about me having a spike this morning. My skin feels all itchy like ants are walking over it, and despite the scent blocker lotion I used after my second shower for the day all I can smell is my own sweetness which kind of means it’s about ten times worse for any Alphas around.
Swallowing a couple of suppressor tabs, I change from a short dress into a pair of cobalt blue pants, adding a high-necked shirt to go with it, hoping the material around my neck will somehow stop my scent tainting the air.
“Sucks to be you,” I mutter at my own reflection, pissed off at my biology, limiting my fashion choices yet again but still admiring what I’m wearing. Twisting around to triple check the knicker line isn’t too visible through my pants since I have to also change to thick panties too. Which I hate, they’re gross and make me feel completely unfeminine.
But the fact is, it would be just my luck, some stuck up Alpha on the hospital board gets a whiff of my scent and starts wooing me to pack or some bullshit. I like how my future looks, full of clandestine hook-ups with Alpha bikies.
Thankfully my parents are endlessly supportive, and patient when it comes to me packing although I suspect I’ll be pushing our bonds when they meet King considering he’s not that much younger than they are but that’s a future problem. Now the problem is getting to the hospital in under an hour.
I make it to the event with ten minutes to spare. Big Tom accompanies me in and makes a quick sweep of the room where we’re taking the photos before he takes a stand at the doors, leaving me talking with the Board while we wait for the doctors involved in the new initiative.
I love that my parents are at the stage in their lives where they can do what they want. In the social circles they keep, there’s always been an air of entitlement but Pack Cameron keeps it real. They rally around those in need rather than those who are the best speakers or the most charismatic which is pretty evident in their latest funding placement, St. Gabriel’s.
St. Gabriel’s is a hospital that should have been knocked down and rebuilt years ago, except it’s one of the busiest hospitals around. Their ER department is huge and almost always at capacity but today we’re here to celebrate the latest round of residents about to finish, while also awarding one of them with my dad’s Dean Cameron Prize.
Dean wanted to set this up in recognition for an underprivileged doctor starting their career. It’s a cash prize, and unlike a lot of the other scholarships and prizes on offer within medicine it’s not related to study, more it’s to help the recipient stay within the public health system as opposed to being lured into private consulting. The money is enough to offset their wages for a year, and it comes without the strings of a Board approving how you spend it.
The resident getting the award is late, supposedly he got caught up in an emergency before needing to see another patient quickly but he’s on the way. A nurse called to apologise and to tell us he would be with us within minutes.
“Excuse me.” I catch the attention of one of the helpers, my temperature is up and I need to get myself under control, “Where’s the bathroom?”
“I’ll show you the way, it’s a bit of a maze,” she says, and we walk away from the group.
I think she was exaggerating how hard it is to find the toilet or maybe she’s used to having to work with idiots who get lost, but I’m used to the hallways and corridors at Unity and I’ve always had a stellar sense of direction. After a few hurried reassurances she reluctantly leaves me to find my own way back.
My head is spinning in slow circles because of taking the suppressors without eating, but the dizziness is also another sign I’m having a spike. Running cold water over my wrists is a nifty trick my mom taught me. It’s a very temporary measure but it should give me some time.
Rushing out of the bathroom like I’ve got a ticking time bomb—I mean it’s not entirely wrong—I make a few steps before my eardrums are shattered by a piercing alarm. The wailing siren clears the corridor as everyone scatters responding to the alarm. I heard a sample of the noise they use for ‘active situations’ when I signed in as a visitor but I never expected to actually hear it in real time.
It’s almost instinctual the way I become a smaller version of myself, trying to hide from the situation while focussing on getting to a safe place. I push on the door to the area where the Board is but it doesn’t budge, the door is locked already and the small glass window is covered.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” I whisper under my breath when I hear footsteps coming my way, having me try all the doorknobs in the hallway. And it seems St. Gabriel’s staff are absolute professionals at locking the place down, no doors open. I don’t know if I’m imagining things, but a door slams from somewhere in the distance and all of a sudden when my rising panic breaks free, I get plucked off my feet.