8. TATI
Chapter eight
TATI
The day slips by in a blur of tasks and stops—errands piled on top of errands, all while my mind drifts back to Carleen. It’s embarrassing, honestly. I can’t focus for more than five minutes without my brain conjuring up the way she looked at me this morning, her warm brown eyes soft and seeing me in a way that makes my chest ache.
It’s like I’ve got her scent—fresh rain and peaches—woven into my skin now. Every little thing reminds me of her.
By the time I’m pulling into my parents' driveway, the sun’s starting to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the familiar house I grew up in. The memories I made here over the years are ones I cherish, coming home sometimes the sweetest thing I look forward to. In the midst of all the chaos, my parents have always been the rock I can count on—and now I also have Carleen. The porch light flickers on as I step out of my car and I take a deep breath before heading up the stairs.
My mom’s at the door before I can knock, pulling me into a tight hug. Goddess, I didn’t even know how much I needed that. “Tati, baby! You’re finally home,” she says, squeezing me so tight I can barely breathe.
“Hi, Mama,” I murmur into her shoulder, smiling as she finally releases me.
My dad’s not far behind, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, a faint smirk on his face. “Look who decided to visit.”
I roll my eyes but step in for a hug anyway. His hug is even tighter than my mom’s, always reminding me that I have a place in this house. Sometimes I’m not sure what I ever did to deserve them. Pushing inside, whatever my mom has prepared for dinner finally hits me in the face.
It smells amazing —garlic, butter, roasted vegetables, and something lemony hanging heavy in the air. My stomach growls audibly and my mom snorts as she ushers me toward the dining table. “You wouldn’t be my baby girl if you weren’t hungry,” my mom chides playfully.
I just shake my head as I slip into my usual chair across from my mother and next to my father. We fall into easy conversation as we eat, my mom recounting some ridiculous neighborhood drama while my dad chimes in with his usual sarcastic commentary. I laugh, genuinely laugh, and for the first time in weeks, I feel like I can breathe without some invisible weight pressing down on my chest. No one brings up how I left on a whim because of what I thought was a failed relationship. Neither of my parents push and ask for details but it feels almost wrong not to tell them that things have worked out, that I’m happy.
My mind drifts back to Carleen, my Alpha—the woman who has accepted everything I am and more.
The way she held me this morning. The way her voice dipped low and rough when she said she’d meet me where I was, in whatever way I needed. The way her scent wrapped around me like a security blanket. The way I keep unconsciously searching for a tether back to her… like I can’t bear to be without her. I catch myself smiling, my fork halfway to my mouth, garlic chicken speared on the end of it.
“Ahem.”
The sound of my mother clearing her throat snaps me out of my daze and I blink up to find both of my parents staring at me across the table. My mom’s got one eyebrow raised and my dad looks like he’s fighting back a smirk.
I freeze, mid-chew, my eyes wide. “What?”
My mom tilts her head slightly, her lips twitching like she’s trying not to laugh. “You’re awfully smiley tonight, sweetheart.”
I swallow the bite of chicken, my cheeks heating up. “I—no, I’m not.”
My dad snorts, shaking his head as he sets his fork down. “Tati, you’ve been grinning at your plate for the past ten minutes. You look like you’re in a rom-com montage.”
I groan, dragging a hand down my face. “I’m just… I’m in a good mood, okay? Moving back has been a lot, and Ellie just had the babies, and it’s just—there’s a lot going on!” My face heats up as I try to figure out the best way to drop the Carleen bomb. I’m not embarrassed but there’s no doubt that both of my parents can smell her scent on me. I haven’t been exactly subtle and I did fall asleep with her sweatshirt beneath my head last night.
My mom smiles softly, her head resting on her hand as she watches me carefully. “All of that’s wonderful, baby. But that’s not what’s got you glowing like that.”
I open my mouth to argue, but my dad cuts me off with a casual, “And you haven’t mentioned moving back in. Not once. And… if I’m not mistaken, you smell like someone we all know and love.”
And there it is. I wish the floor could open up and swallow me whole. My fork clatters onto my plate, and I’m pretty sure my face has gone a few deeper shades of red. “Um, yes. I was going to tell you. I just… yes, me and Carleen.” I’m not even sure why I’m so embarrassed about it.
My dad laughs, reaching for my hand across the table. He squeezes it reassuringly before returning to cut into his chicken. “Tati, you’re the one who came in here smelling like rain and peaches. You might as well have walked in with her name stamped on your forehead.”
“ Stop! ” I wail, my voice muffled behind my hands. It’s my fault that my parents even know that scent—not because of the nights I spent wrapped around Carleen but because every time I came back home, I tried to recreate the scent. It got so bad that my parents told me I could have no more than one or two candles or scents in my room at a time. I was obsessed. I still am.
And I’ve never been able to truly recreate the same scent.
My mom’s voice cuts into my thoughts as she smiles across the table at me. “Tati, sweetheart, we’re just happy you’re happy. You deserve that. And if it’s Carleen who’s putting that smile on your face? Well, we’ve always adored her.”
“She’s a good Alpha, Tati,” my dad adds, “A little intense, sure, but she’s got a good heart.” Intense is one word for it but she’s always been soft with me and I love it.
My mom hums in agreement. “And she’s always looked out for you, even when you two weren’t speaking. I know you’ve been through a lot, baby, but if you two are finding your way back to each other, then I’m 100% on board.”
My throat tightens instantly and I blink a few times, trying to fight back the sudden burn of tears in my eyes. She says it so simply, so casually, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like she’s always known it would happen.
“Thanks, Mom,” I mumble around another bite of food.
“And you know what else?” she continues, her lips twitching again. “You should invite her over sometime. Dinner, lunch, coffee—I don’t care. I’d love to see her again, now that the two of you are together.”
I swear my parents live to torture me. “Jesus Christ, Mom. It’s really new. I can’t just drag her over here but yes, I’d like that.” Sitting around the table with my Alpha beside me? That would be a dream come true but maybe like… next week or the week after when we aren’t still fumbling around each other.
Laughter follows as we finish dinner, my thoughts falling back on Carleen and the few times she’s met my parents in passing.
She’s always been Carleen —Ellie’s older sister, polite, respectful, confident in that effortless way that only she can pull off. But she’d never lingered. Never stayed long enough for my mom to pull her aside and bombard her with nosy questions or for my dad to give her one of those heavy, fatherly looks that says, Take care of my daughter.
Maybe that’s going to change now. Maybe we’ll get there. Hopefully, we will.
“Hey,” my mom says, her voice pulling me back to the present. Her warm eyes are locked on me, her head tilted slightly to the side. “I’m proud of you, Tati. For everything. You’ve built a life for yourself, even when things got hard. You’ve made your way and you’ve done it with your head held high.”
My chest tightens again and this time I can’t stop the tears that gather in the corners of my eyes. I look down at my plate, my voice cracking slightly as I speak. “Thanks, Mom.”
Because I know not everyone gets this. Not everyone has parents who support them so unconditionally. Not everyone gets to sit at a dinner table and hear those words without judgment, without expectation.
I didn’t even finish school. I never got the degree my parents always dreamed I’d have. I found more love, more life , in dancing under the neon lights of Euphoria. And yeah, maybe it’s not everyone’s dream job, but it pays well— really well—and it’s allowed me to save up, to build a life I’m proud of. My mom sees that. My dad sees that. And knowing they love me not in spite of it, but because of it? It’s everything.
The rest of dinner passes in soft conversation. They ask about Ellie and the babies, about how she’s handling being a mom to three infants. I tell them about Quinn’s tiny fingers, Oliver’s sleepy face, and Aria’s surprisingly strong little grip. My dad jokes about how Macon’s probably aged ten years overnight, and we all laugh.
By the time the plates are empty and the leftovers are packed away in the fridge, I feel calmer—my thoughts reset, and my belly full. “Don’t be a stranger, baby girl,” my dad whispers into my ear as he hugs me tight. I don’t want to let him go but work beckons and every bone in my body wants to rush back to Carleen’s apartment and settle in her arms.
“I won’t. I promise,” I say, hugging my mother next. With one last look around, I disappear back out into the evening air, ready to step back into the life that I left behind.
Walking back into Euphoria feels like slipping into a second skin. The pulse of bass-heavy music thrums through the floorboards, the faint scent of vanilla candles mixed with stage makeup and perfume hanging heavy in the air. The flashing lights, the velvet curtains, the glint of the poles under the glow of stage lights—it’s all home.
It’s like riding a bike. No matter how long it’s been, your body just remembers.
The only thing missing is Ellie at my side as we joke about all the other prissy Betas just out here looking for an Alpha to take them home. I wonder if Ellie would ever step on the stage again or if her interests have realigned to babies and her beautiful Omega. That’s a question for another day.
The moment I step through the employee entrance, Eugene’s sharp voice carries over the noise. “Well, well, if it isn’t our favorite little hurricane.”
I grin as the Alpha steps into view, arms crossed over his chest. His bleached-blond hair is slicked back, and he’s wearing a sequined blazer over a graphic tee. It seems he hasn’t changed much in the months I’ve been gone which just makes it easier to step right back into the routine I left.
“Hey, Eugene,” I say, my grin widening.
He studies me for a beat, his dark eyes sharp as he takes me in from head to toe. “You look good, kid. Rested. Happy, even. Don’t go screwing it up by falling off the stage tonight, yeah?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “You know me—I always land on my feet.”
He snorts. “That’s what I’m afraid of. Go get ready, Tati. And don’t make me regret letting you come back.”
I toss him a salute as I slink past, weaving through the backstage chaos. The dressing room is buzzing with energy—girls in various states of undress, stage lights reflecting off glitter-dusted skin, and laughter ringing loud enough to drown out the muffled music from the main floor. Goddess, it feels like a second home even as chaotic as it is.
“Tati!”
A few of the other girls spot me, their voices rising in excited squeals as they pull me into a flurry of hugs, compliments, and a barrage of questions. I’ve never enjoyed the racket but in the moment, I preen from the attention.
“Where the hell have you been?” one asks, her dark red lips forming a perfect pout.
“I thought you were never coming back!” another chimes in, adjusting the straps on her rhinestone bra.
I shrug, brushing them off with an easy smile. “Needed a little break, that’s all. Had to clear my head.”
They seem to accept that answer, though one of them—Casey, tall, leggy, and always three steps ahead of everyone else—grins wickedly as she sidles up beside me.
“Well, your head might be clear, but your scent is telling a whole different story, Tati.” She wiggles her perfectly manicured brows, and the girls burst into laughter.
I roll my eyes, even as heat creeps up the back of my neck. “Oh, shut up, Casey. Good to see you’re still here,” I throw back playfully. Casey was always one of the ones out looking for an Alpha, eyes peeled for the perfect pack to slip into. I guess she still hasn’t found what she’s looking for, not that it matters to me.
But they’re already giggling and whispering, throwing me teasing looks as I head to my station and rumble through my bag for one of my tried and true outfits—a sleek black number with rhinestones lining the edges. The plunging neckline shows off just enough and the high slit leaves my legs on full display. The chatter continues around me, but as I swipe on my red lipstick and fluff up my short, green-highlighted hair, I feel that pang in my chest—the one that’s been sitting there ever since Ellie left.
This is the part of the job I don’t always love. The giggling, the gossip, the endless talk about who they’re going home with after their sets. It’s all part of the atmosphere, sure, but it’s never been why I’m here.
I’m here to dance . It’s the only way I’ve ever been able to truly express myself, to let go of the noise in my head and just feel . I shake off the feeling, plastering on a sharp grin as I finish my makeup and head toward the lineup where Eugene’s waiting, clipboard in hand.
“Alright, Tati,” he says, giving me a once-over before raising an unimpressed brow. “It’s been a while, so let me make one thing clear—if you mess this up, you’re on table duty until you remember how to walk in heels.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “You wound me, Eugene.”
He smirks. “Get out there and remind them why they missed you, kid.”
The music changes, the familiar opening notes of my number filling the air as the curtains part and the lights hit the stage.
Stepping onto the platform feels like slipping into the deepest part of myself—where confidence comes as naturally as breathing, where every step, every sway of my hips feels deliberate, controlled, mine . I can feel the crowd’s energy, hear the scattered cheers and whistles, see the way heads turn as I move across the stage with the other girls. But none of that matters.
Because she’s here.
My eyes lock onto the front row, and there she is— Carleen .
She’s leaning back in her chair, one arm draped casually over the backrest, her sharp brown eyes fixed on me with an intensity that makes my knees weak. She’s in one of her fitted black blazers, her hair styled in soft, natural curls around her face, her lips pressed into a faint smirk.
But it’s her eyes that do it.
She’s not watching the stage. She’s not watching the other dancers. She’s watching me .
The music pulses around me, the lights flashing across my skin, and suddenly, every movement I make feels like it’s for her . I roll my hips, my fingers trailing over my thigh before I turn, arching my back slightly as I glance over my shoulder—and yeah, she’s still watching. Her gaze feels like hands on my skin, like warm breath against my neck, like something heavy and possessive and Alpha .
Every time I glance her way, every time I let my fingers trail down my thigh or toss my hair over my shoulder, her expression darkens—her lips part slightly, her chest rising just a little faster. It makes me shiver. Makes my stomach twist and my pulse race. And goddess help me, I lean into it. I dance for her , my body following the beat but my focus never leaving those dark, hungry eyes.
It feels like a game, but one I’m more than willing to play.
When the song starts to fade, the final notes vibrating through the speakers, I hit my ending pose—a slow, deliberate arch backward, my body stretched out and vulnerable, one arm raised above my head.
The crowd cheers, whistles filling the air, but when I lift my head and look back toward the front row—
She’s gone.
My stomach drops slightly as I climb down from the stage, the glow of the performance still buzzing in my veins but now tinted with confusion. Did she leave? Did I—did we —do something wrong?
“Tati!” Casey grabs my arm as I pass her backstage, her grin wicked. “Girl, whoever that Alpha was? She looked like she wanted to eat you alive.”
I force a laugh, shaking my head as I slip past the other girls and head toward the dressing room. My heart’s still racing, my thoughts tumbling over themselves as I push open the door—
And freeze.
Because Carleen’s right there .
She’s leaning casually against one of the vanities, arms crossed over her broad chest, a wild, dangerous grin pulling at her lips. Her brown eyes are sharp, locking onto me the second I step into the room.
“Alpha,” I breathe, my voice barely audible over the chaos of my heartbeat.
I start to say something else, something witty or sarcastic—something Tati-like —but before I can get a word out, Carleen pushes off the vanity, crosses the space between us in two long strides, and crashes her mouth against mine.
Her hands are firm on my waist, pulling me flush against her body as her lips claim mine with a mix of hunger and devotion. It’s not just a kiss—it’s a statement. It’s ownership and promise and something so deep it makes my thighs press together as I swallow back a moan.
My fingers clutch at her blazer, holding on like she might slip away again if I let go. Her scent surrounds me, that fresh rain blooming around me, and it fills every crevice of my chest until I feel like I might burst. When she finally pulls back, we’re both breathing hard, our foreheads pressed together.
“I thought I’d be jealous,” Carleen says softly, her voice low and rough around the edges. “Watching you up there, dancing in front of everyone, letting them see you like that . ” Her hands slide up my sides, her thumbs brushing against my ribs as she tilts her head, her gaze boring into mine. “But I wasn’t,” she continues. “All I felt was pride. Because that was you, sunshine. My Beta, up there—dancing, free, and so damn happy . ”
My heart stutters in my chest and my breath catches in my throat.
Her Beta.
Those words repeat in my head, over and over, until I can’t stop the grin that breaks across my face. “ Your Beta?” I whisper, my voice trembling slightly.
Carleen nods, her lips curving into a softer smile this time. “Yeah, Tati. Mine. ”
And then she kisses me again, slower this time, softer—but just as deep, just as sure.
The sound of the other girls in the dressing room finally breaks through—soft gasps, scattered laughter, someone muttering, “Get it, Tati!”
But I don’t care.
I don’t care about anything except the way Carleen is holding me, the way she’s looking at me like I’m the most important thing in the world. When she finally pulls back again, her voice drops into something softer, something a little more deviant . “If you’re a good girl tonight, sunshine… we can cuddle in your little nest later.”
Oh.
Oh.
My scent shifts immediately, growing sweeter, thicker, like melon in the height of summer. I swear my knees nearly give out as I scramble to pull away and start gathering my stuff, my hands shaking as I shove clothes, makeup, and random accessories into my bag. Carleen laughs behind me, a mixture of a chuckle and her Alpha purr, and it only makes me move faster.
The other girls are still giggling and whispering, but I’m already halfway out the door, bag slung over my shoulder and my heart pounding so loud it’s all I can hear.
“See you at home, sunshine,” Carleen calls after me.
I don’t stop, don’t turn around—I just bolt for the exit, my face flushed, my heart racing , and my scent still sweet in the air around me. But despite the chaos in my chest, one thought rises above the rest:
I’m hers.
And tonight?
She’s mine .