Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
Iliterally drop my bags and Simona walks in the door. And like always I get a sensation of comfort being around her. It helps that she smells like cookies and cream.
“Are you okay?” She stays on her side of the room.
“Yeah.”
“I’m so glad, Tristan,” she smiles softly, “I might just dip into the shower real quick and freshen up.”
“Are you up for a glass of wine?”
“Who are you right now?” She laughs, moving into her room, talking at me through the door. “I grabbed a couple of options, hoping you were here.”
“All okay, Sim?”
Instead of answering, the shower goes off, and when I stick my head into her room, she’s shut the door to her bathroom. Something feels off, but before I can open the door, she goes and scares the absolute shit out of me. “Go. Leave me alone for a second. I need to think, and I can’t do that with your hovering.”
“Me hovering?” I gasp in fake shock.
She rolls her eyes, but still has her trademark gentleness gracing every part of her. “One glass of red wine, with ice, and if you throw some corn chips in the oven, I’ll…” Her words dry up as she suddenly looks lost.
“Go, Sim,” I urge softly. “Have a cry in the shower then come avoid talking about sad shit with me.”
She tries to smile again but her chin wobbles. She hides it behind her hand as she steps back, keeping her eyes on the floor and closing the door.
It’s not like I don’t know Simona’s situation but she’s always so serene in her acceptance it makes us all forget. Although, her gentle avoidance is actually her standard defence mechanism.
While the oven preheats, I have a super quick shower myself, reluctantly washing away King’s scent on my skin but tonight needs to be about Sim, and not me.
Changing into a pair of jeans and a singlet top, I mash together some corn chips, sprinkle handfuls of cheese over them and jam the tray in the oven. Next is our set up. We have a ritual that Raney started but all our squishy seats have to face outside, the lights have to be off and fluffy blankets are mandatory.
I’m wrestling the top off the wine when a knock at the door has me stashing the bottle and doing a quick check of our living room for contraband.
Grabbing the dressing gown we use for the regular Unity room checks, I shimmy my jeans off and am tying the belt when I open the door.
“Good evening, Tristan,” Omega Mother Beatrice says quietly, her eyes lower politely like we’ve been shown.
Honestly how this woman knows I’m not returning the preferred greeting gets me, but she waits patiently until I stop staring at the flowers in her hand and I look down to the prescribed place before she looks up and talks.
“I must start by expressing my disappointment at both you and Omega Simona for not following our rules. At Unity, Omega Tristan, we pride ourselves on providing a safe place for unbonded Omegas to court packs, but you both have neglected to advise the front office you are in the process of courting.”
“We are? I mean, what?” I splutter, trying to properly articulate words into sentences. If I had my way, I’d be telling her to shove her archaic rules up her butt but I’m still processing she thinks not only me, but Sim is courting.
Taking a steady breath, because it is expected, I start again. “Sorry, Omega Mother Beatrice, the beautiful flowers in your arms distracted me. I have to admit on top of being overwhelmed I really am surprised about having to advise the front office.”
“Perhaps this is a good reminder that instead of your time at Unity gossiping with your girlfriends it would pay for you to occasionally listen to what we discuss in class.”
And it’s not like I can argue against her comment, but now I’m keen on finding out who the flowers are from and opening the small gift bag that has my name on it along with an envelope.
“Apologies, Omega Mother,” I answer, going all out on being as simpish and agreeable as possible. It’s positively nauseating, I seriously feel sick at how unnatural it is.
“Both of you will need to come to the office to complete the required paperwork.”
“Of course.
“The front desk is not a flower or gift couriering service.”
“Oh gosh, I completely understand. Thank you for bringing them. Simona and I were just about to settle down for the night with a cup of hot cocoa while we share our favourite positive affirmations.”
She hums, her nose raising judgmentally high. “Perhaps you are listening in class. I will not record an infraction for either of you.”
“Thank you. We both appreciate your understanding,” I manage without upchucking in my mouth. And I kind of surprise myself, pulling off this submissive bullshit because in the next moment, before she says another word, Omega Mother Beatrice hands the haul over.
“Goodnight, Omega Tristan.”
“Goodnight, Mother. Thank you again and see you in needlework next week.”
Another hum and she walks off, as polite as she can. But in each step, you can see how pissed she is. As I watch, I realise how much I’d fucking hate to live life with all those bottled-up emotions and having such bad fashion sense.
“Is it safe?” Simona whispers from inside the kitchen.
I shut the door. “Sim, you sure as hell have some explaining to do. Look at these flowers… they’re incredible. They must have cost more than…”
“I know, Tristan.” She groans, turning her back on me and her floral arrangement to open the wine and take a guzzle straight from the bottle.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure Sim’s sadness is because of the douche Alpha or Alphas who sent her the flowers. I stash them in the cupboard and hang up the dressing gown before shutting the door.
“Get a glass,” I mumble, walking around the island bench to switch off the oven and pull out the blackened nachos. “Jesus.”
“Honestly it’s lucky you’ve got some money in the bank because I’m pretty sure you’re going to need a live-in chef or something.” She laughs as she comes over and stabs a finger at the charred remains of our comfort food.
“Imagine if I could cook, all those poor restaurants and cafes would be out of business.”
“There is that,” she says sweetly, masking her disappointment behind a smile. But I know this girl!
“I was thinking we should order in. I’ll sneak down and get it.”
“After you open those two ‘courting’ gifts you’re holding.”
I look down at the gift bag hanging off my wrist and the envelope in my hand. Unlike Simona’s courting gift, mine are not as flashy but just as mysterious. The bag is like one you’d get from the sale box at Dollar General. I hand over the envelope to Simona and bust open the staples holding the bag together, looking inside I can’t say I’m not intrigued as I pull out a small home brand bottle of water. A handwritten note is attached, and I snatch it off the bottle before taking a step back to read it.
Tris, I know I messed up big time and there is a story I will tell. BUT and I know it’s a big but that’s why it’s in capitals - I’m kinda still hoping you’ll come watch me fight. The water is to help you hydrate cause you know… thirst trap ;) Mav.
ps. If you deleted the tickets off your phone I can resend them over. I added a couple more in case you want to bring a friend or two.
I reread his note a few times as a flock of excited butterflies takes flight in my tummy. They also bring a huge sense of relief with them.
A plan formulates in all of two seconds, and I look up at Simona who is already rolling her eyes at me.
“Oh…Come on! Think of it this way, maybe whoever made you cry needs reminding of how you’re a kick ass Omega who can stand on her own two feet. I promise I’ll have bodyguards with us; we’ll be home before sunrise.”
“Do I get an explanation of why we’re going?”
I burst out laughing, “No chance, but we do get to watch nearly naked hotties belting the crap out of each other.”
A small smile lets me know she’s on board with my secret plan.
“You’ve got ten minutes, and I want you looking the hottest you have ever looked, Simona. You never know when I might take a sneaky selfie of me and my bestie out on the town and accidentally tag you on my social.”
Her smile gets bigger, and I see her sassy side come alive in her eyes. “I need five. And I know exactly what I am wearing.”
We both make a mad dash to our rooms, and much like her I have an idea on what I’m wearing to make Maverick regret his decision to stand me up at breakfast. I drop the envelope I was given also by Omega Mother under my pillow, focusing on one drama at a time.
Shimmying into my shiny black, skin-tight pants takes a couple of tries but once they’re on I know I made the right choice. Pairing them with a bright red bandeau top and jade green stilettoes, my black sunnies and ironing flat my fringe, I walk out of my room looking absolutely fucking fierce. Waiting for Sim, I text Big Tom and let him know I’m going out to watch an MMA fight at a venue about an hour away. I get a text back letting me know he and Tonka will meet me there.
And since Sim isn’t out of her room yet, I reread Maverick’s note before deciding a quick selfie is in order. Sucking my finger, I snap and send before getting too hung up on whether I should or shouldn’t.
The three dots start up an instant later. Before they disappear and reappear. A second later I get a photo back. And it looks like Maverick can give as good as he gets—the photo is of his near naked body, taken from up high so his face isn’t in the shot, but his abs and his silky fight shorts are. It’s hot as hell. But of course, he ups the ante by about a million degrees, or maybe it’s his way of telling me how much he liked my photo, but his fist is wrapped in the material of his boxers and around his cock.
Goddamn him.
I race back into my room and pull my pants off, flinging off my ineffectual G-string that is slicked up and too soggy to wear after one photo. Finding a pair of thick undies I somehow manage to get in them and in my black shiny pants just as Simona walks out.
“Are you fucking serious, Simona?” I gasp, completely taken aback at how incredible she looks. She’s nailed the baby-doll vibe but added her own ‘fuck-you’ to the mix. The Alphas who made her cry are going to be sorry for a long time to come.
Her hips roll in a damn near perfect strut as she twists to look over her shoulder at me. The pale pink dress is super short with a sweet white bow in the middle of the strapless bodice. It fits her like a dream, accentuating her sweeter side while teasing with her womanly curves. The short ankle boots she’s got on look familiar since they’re mine, but they add the kick her outfit needs.
“You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not. You look incredible. How do you feel?”
Sim’s lips lift a little as she shrugs. “Sad, but happy too.”
I wrap her up in a cuddle of epic proportions before we start our escape.