7. As Much As I Ever Could
CHAPTER 7
AS MUCH AS I EVER COULD
Sadie
I t’s 11PM on Thursday and I’m in a manic panic because I absolutely can not go out with Cameron tomorrow.
It isn’t just the fact that I have nothing to wear. I've been through every outfit combo six times since I got home from work, and it’s official, nothing sparks joy. Or whatever that Netflix show was about. But the few outfits that I do have feel wrong.
Nothing feels right on my skin and I can’t be on a motorcycle and feel like clawing off my own skin. Even with my low self preservation, I know better,
I’m also fully invested in never being around the four giants again.
It was a moment of weakness that Cam caught me off guard, sliding into my TikTok DM’s and making me say yes to something that I absolutely should say no to.
Jace just shows up when I’m grabbing coffee and it’s not like I can avoid him in that.
The thing with Anthony was…he had shown up for me when I felt alone. He had taken care of me better than I’ve been able to take care of myself. It was so nice. I felt great after we worked out and even thought ab out going back.
The reminder that one of them hadn’t seemed to care about me hit me. Knocking me back to reality.
I couldn’t do this.
But they were my scent matches and that made it so easy to just act like an idiot and interact with them. But I had to be stronger.
Omega instincts were a real slick brain.
And the most important of all of these things is that under no circumstance do I date. So there would be no courting alphas, scent match or not.
Not that they mentioned courting.
I’m just not into the idea of spending my life with someone who is going to make me feel weird about myself.
I’m selfish with the idea that time well spent is time that is spent alone. Physical touch gives me the icks, no matter how many times I tell my therapist that I think my love language is touch. The idea of going out with a man spending a subpar night having boring conversation and feeling like I have to go back to his place to put his al dente noodle in my mouth is peak cringe.
Like gagging at the thought.
Frick it.
I’m canceling on him.
Sadie
Hey, I can't go tomorrow night. Sorry.
That was easy.
Cancelled and now I can spend the night reading a book and scrolling endless TikTok to try and feel something other than apathy.
No need to worry about what to wear or what to talk about with him now. I can have some water like it's going to fix the chronic dehydration and avoid the feeling of doomsday settling in.
It’s only my second night on Lexapro and as I slip the pill in my mouth I say a silent prayer that this will help. That I’ll make it through the insomnia, the vivid dreams, the nausea and dizziness. That dealing with all these side effects will finally give me hope of a life.
Cameron
Are you okay?
Frick.
Why couldn’t he just say okay and accept that I wasn’t interested? Wasn’t there some rule about this with men? Where they pull you aside in some stinky middle school bathroom and inform you of texting etiquette.
He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t really care if I’m okay. And honestly, how do you tell a stranger ‘ oh no, I’m not okay. My brain keeps sabotaging me and the morbs hit real bad .’
You can’t say that. It will be like olden times where men get you committed and I don’t need that bad juju in my life.
Cameron
Did I do something wrong?
Oh Gosh.
It’s like I kicked him and he’s a sweet innocent puppy. The guilt morphs in my stomach, brewing as I wrap an arm around myself.
This is torture.
A reminder that I’m a bad person. Bad omega. Not fit for an alpha.
Cameron is so sweet when we text and I know that he knows we’re scent matches. He is like the young brother of the group. He talks to me about how sometimes he hates how he got that role but other times he appreciates the love he is surrounded by.
And here I am disappointing someone else in my life. At least I stay consistent with that.
Cameron
Can we talk?
Talk about how I’m now so anxious that I have to take a pill to make me calm down or that the medicine I’m on gives me such a tummy ache and am drinking Pepto Bismol like it’s a glass of water.
All because I got sad and can’t stop being sad. Why can’t my brain just stop sending sad signals ?
This is not going how I thought life would be. This is really not my journey. Is it?
Cameron
You’re not answering but you have read receipts on.
FRICK.
I start typing. I deleted it. I start again. Stop.
Cameron
I’m coming over.
Sadie
How did you get my address?
Cameron
Google, brat.
No. No. No.
Looking around the shoebox I live in the panic is so strong I dry heave.
I need to light a candle. I need to hide my dirty laundry. I need to rinse out the wine bottles I have next to my sink so he doesn’t think I’m an alcoholic.
Am I an alcoholic?
I have been drinking a lot lately. Can I even drink when I’m on these meds?
FOCUS .
What I don’t do is change out of the black hoodie I’m wearing or put pants on. Which I grow to regret ten seconds later when there is a knock at my door and the manic panic goes into overdrive.
What are the signs of a heart attack again?
I pull it open and Cameron stands there, his hands in his dark jeans pockets looking around behind me before landing back on me. It looks like he was checking for threats and now that he doesn’t see one he knows I’m the risk here.
One eyebrow raises and at that moment I realize that I am pant-less .
“Go away.” His lips tweak up in a smile and instead of following my directions he steps forward, shouldering into my studio that already feels too small without his big body crowding it.
What did he eat growing up to be this massive?
The way his eyes blow out as he takes in a breath of my scent which I am sure is overpowering my apartment. Even if I wear scent blockers at work there is no hiding the way that I smell here.
His scent blooms as it hits him.
The scent of oranges is so sweet and juicy making my nose itch, as the mellowness of his rosemary earthy and strong tries to even it out.
God, why does he have to smell so damn good?
The candle flickers as he turns looking at me, leaning against my kitchen counter like he has been here a thousand times before. And, frick me, does Cameron look good?
It’s unfair and instantly makes me feel self conscious because it’s stupid how attractive he is.
He’s covered in tattoos from his fingers to where they’re peaking out at the top of his hoodie. Even his legs have tattoos because the rip in his jeans show off more ink there. His stupid porn mustache should be off putting but the idiot looks good with it. Dark chocolate hair under a hat that of course he had on backwards because nothing completes a look like a guy in a backwards hat.
Slick pools in my panties and I really, really, really hate being an omega right now.
But it is the double nose ring that is the icing on the very hot cake in front of me that makes me actually let out a whine that I had been trying to swallow down for days.
His eyebrow raises and his fists clenched as he wills himself not to come near me because he probably can smell the way my apartment reeks of my sadness.
“Do all you bozos do steroids? It’s like an advertisement for Gold’s Gym looking at you. It makes me want to eat ice cream, real bad.” I wish I had ice cream in my freezer.
At the idea of offering him something I freeze, close enough now that I can smell him even more and the way the cold night air clings to his skin .
I can smell the wind on him. Whipping in every direction, cold and free. Mixed with the sharpness of his scent. Of course he smells great. It’s completely unfair.
The whine comes out again and I really, really wish that I had put on pants.
“Why did you cancel?” he ignores my comments, looking at me with such an intense gaze I move away from him. My eyes go to my fridge where I can just rummage around inside of it without thinking.
Maybe I’ll find a drink to offer him.
Can he smell my slick?
That’s an embarrassing thought. The answer is probably yes which makes me want to crawl into my bed and hide. At least I’m a broken omega so my slick isn’t dripping down my thighs.
Win for the broken omega.
I’ll just ignore him until he takes the hint and leaves.
My fridge has a few seltzer waters, a sad looking cantaloupe that I bought with good intentions, and a lot of space that I’m calling potential right now.
If I frame this right I can say I’m trying the minimalist trend instead of decorating my fridge like all those people do on TikTok.
Grocery shopping is a Saturday job. But Saturday is also a good day to be a blanket burrito and spend the day dozing in bed between books.
Blanket burritos were as close to a nest as I got because nests scared me. Something my therapist was trying to work with me on because she thought having a nest might be good for me. Giving me a place where I can relax and just be an omega.
Growing up I saw the way my alpha fathers didn’t care about the nest my mother had. They took what they wanted from her and it wasn’t something that kept her safe. She found no comfort in the space. I grew up looking at it like a bullseye. A place where they could easily find her.
I just wanted to be safe.
But I wasn’t convinced soft blankets and pillows were going to do anything about the sadness that I was drowning in. It wasn’t going to fix me .
Books might be the closest that I got to nesting. They were my comfort object. Sacrifices are made in the name of reading a good book and mine just happens to be no food in my house.
“Sadie, I’m talking to you, brat.” There was a little bit of a bark in his words making my body tense for a second. There is an alpha in my apartment.
Cameron wasn’t being aggressive though. Even calling me brat was said soft, gently like he knew how close I was to falling off whatever edge I was currently balancing on.
My fridge shuts with a soft thud and I pull the arms of my sweatshirt over my hands as I finally look up at his dark eyes.
Cameron is probably 6’4. Tall enough to reach all the things I can’t but shorter than some of his friends who are giant alphas on steroids. What did their parents feed them to make them so large?
I wonder if he makes up for that inch somewhere else.
Why do I have to be constantly horny around these guys? It’s like my brain overrides and gets slick brain.
Right now he looks eight feet tall and my five two frame shrinks down as I come in and out of daydreams. All my size kinks playing in my head like a porn.
Don’t like that for me at all.
“You should go.” He pushes off the counter, in my personal space without a second thought. Such a typical alpha move. My eyes snap closed, body rigid as he comes closer to me, “Please don’t-”
Hurt me. Touch me. Break me.
Because I am so tired of putting myself together over and over again. I can only build myself up so many times after being hurt.
How many storms do I need to weather before I can finally breathe in on a sunny day?
“You’re crying.” His words are low, soft, confused.
Frick .
“Get. Out.”
“No.” His fingers reach for my sleeve, bringing my hand into his. Cameron hesitates for a second before his fingers brush over my knuckles. It’s so gentle, not forcefulor pressured. My stomach doesn’t drop with the ick feeling of someone in my personal space .
His other hand wipes at my cheeks, softly like he’s afraid of hurting me. The rough pad of his thumb over my cheeks, wet strokes of tears being pushed away as they fall
“Go away, please, Cameron.”
“No. I don’t think you should be alone.” He shifts as my eyes open up and his head tilted like he wasn’t sure about what he was about to do. “I’m going to hug you now.”
“Do. Not. Hug- oof .” His super human arms came down around me, squeezing me to his chest as he practically suffocates me in his squat hug that he is doing. “You mother-”
“Shhh, brat.” his fingers tugged at the elastic letting my messy bun out and burying his fingers in my hair as he rubs circles on my scalp as he holds me against him making soothing baby sounds at me.
I’m not a baby and about to remind him of that but his sounds switch to a purr that moves through me, enticing a shiver out. I whimper at the way that it feels.
So comforting and nice, like I can crawl up against his chest and all my worries will be chased away with the sweet purrs of my alpha.
Not my alpha.
Oh Gosh .
And me and my traitorous emotions, frazzled from someone inviting me out, and from that someone showing up at my house. I start sobbing. Not small little sobs but the wails of a thousand widows come out of me.
My arms shoot out, wrapping around his neck, as I fist his hoodie and Cameron brings me in closer to him. He is lifting me up without a single grunt and moving with me to my bed.
He sits down on the edge, letting me straddle his lap as I sob over things that had happened with other people. My fear response overriding any logic as his hand slid under my hoodie to rub at my bare skin. It is comforting and nice and I liked how at this moment I felt safe. The skin to skin contact makes me melt.
I feel him dragging his neck over my head, the way that his scent blooms over me as I realize he is scent marking me as her purrs. It’s so comforting, sweet and gentle that I let myself go.
Cam is safe .
This just prompts me to cry more as I realize I couldn’t remember the last time that I felt safe to be fully me like this. There have been pockets sized moments of peace but nothing like this.
“Let's talk about it.” He phrases it like it's a question when my sobs turned to sniffles but I shake my head shifting as his hand skims down, squeezing one of my thighs.
His touch feels so good.
So good that I want to ask him to keep doing it. Which is crazy because touch is such a complicated thing. Maybe I’m a bit touch starved and that’s why it feels so good now.
“You canceled our date. Why?” I went to pull back, shifting so that I could wobble off his lap. I didn’t want to be confronted by him right now.
Cameron is wrapping his arm around my waist, locking me in place as he holds me against him, not ready to let me run away and hide from this.
Knothead .
“Talk.”
“It wasn’t a date.” His eyebrow raised like I insulted him by saying that. “I don’t date.”
Cameron presses his thumb to his lips as he watches me try to dig myself out of whatever mess I was getting into. I could see it, the train wreck that was my rambling. It was bubbling up inside me, ready to pour out.
Oh no .
Why can’t I stop my mouth?
“I haven’t dated since college. I won’t date again. Alphas aren’t safe. I don’t like to be touched. I don’t like to talk to men. Beta or Alpha. I don’t like the idea of sleeping in unfamiliar places. I don’t like waking up with someone and having to pretend it’s not weird that they were in bed with me. I like my space. My things. My life. I don’t need that to change.” Cameron is staring at me as I talk, my heart racing as he just nods his head.
How is he calm?
Why can’t I be calm?
His thumbs run over my thighs, squeezing them before letting his thumb rub in circles over them again and my heart rate starts to come down from his touch.
This is some evil sorcery and I do not approve.
My fingers go to my mouth, shoving them inside so that I can suck on something and self soothe. Maybe fill my mouth so I don’t give him anymore of my backstory.
“I understand that. And I’m sorry someone hurt you, baby brat. Do you want me to slash their tires?” He is so serious that I blink, before bursting out with a laugh as Cameron tries to make sense of the mood shift.
He was serious about it. He would slash someone's tires for me without even thinking. When had he started being so loyal to me?
His fingers stroke my ribs, having shifted up from one of my thighs and it reminds me of Ant’s touch. Ant’s touch was safe and I liked it. Cam’s other hand is rising up too. The pad of his thumb swiping over my lips and making me freeze at the shock of it.
I would like to suck it.
Or bite it.
Maybe just have it slide between my lips and rest there.
“I would do it, you know. I don’t like the idea of you upset. I like it less knowing someone hurt you. I like your laugh. How your eyes light up and how you can see that crooked tooth.” My face burns in embarrassment as I press my lips together at the mention of my teeth. “I said I like it.” He reiterates as if I misunderstood him the first time.
He looks so innocent and confused by my reaction. Eyes pinching together as he looks at me and tries to make sense of why I am getting more upset.
My mind is in panic.
He saw my crooked teeth.
I’m in a full fledged road to panic now at the idea of smiling in front of him again. Letting him see my teeth. In a world of Instagram edited smiles there are few things that give me anxiety like my teeth.
Growing up we didn’t go to a dentist and when I went at 18 it caused me so much anxiety that I just brushed, flossed, and gargled so much like I was trying to make up for years of neglect .
The pack I had grown up in was blue collar middle class and we should have been able to go to the dentist.
There were a lot of things that we should have been able to do but weren’t allowed to.
Can’t think about the family pack. That will just make me spiral more than I’m already doing.
“I’m going to kiss you now. If you don’t want me too, now would be the time to speak up.” Cameron’s hand slips from touching my lips to cupping my cheek, his eyes on me as I freeze up.
“If I speak up will you stop?” I ask, scared now.
He still wants to kiss me after seeing my teeth? He still likes me enough to kiss me?
Cameron nods his head and I breathe out a sigh of relief, pushing forward and kissing him. It feels better when I’m in charge of making the move.
It only takes him a second to recover.
His fingers press into my back, pulling me up his lap so we’re chest to chest. My hands fist his hair, the hat he is wearing falling off as my mouth opens, letting his tongue slip into my mouth.
Open mouthed and demanding, Cameron nudges my head angling me so when he kisses me it’s all consuming. Warmth spreads through me as my hips shift looking for friction in some form as pleasure rushes through me.
The anxiety attack I was having went and all I can focus on is the way that his tongue feels like velvet as it traces mine. How he tastes like the place I try to hide in dreams and how I’ll never emotionally recover from this kiss again.
Why haven’t any other kisses in my life felt as good as this one? What had been wrong?
Was it because he is one of my scent match mates?
Or was it the way I felt safe being kissed by him.
He stands, my legs wrap around his waist as he spins us, so I’m pinned down on the bed, his body over mine as I melt into my bedding.
I want more.
More. More. More .
The way his cock is hard in his jeans, the hard steel against the thin material of my panties. It feels so good that I could melt. My scent is thick in the air and he groans as he smells it when he pulls away from the kiss.
“Is this okay?” His check in is so sweet compared to the way he was just kissing me that I’m confused for a second before nodding, “Use your words, baby. I want to keep kissing you if it’s okay with you. You need to let me know what is okay.” He preaches consent between peppering kisses along my jaw and neck.
I’m drunk on him and it’s going to be trouble.
The slick has completely gone through my panties now and I’m sure that I am making a mess of him.
He started it though. This is his mess. Now he can clean me up.
But instead of answering I tug at his hoodie, pulling it over his head as Cameron ducks out of it. He grabs it, folding it quickly before tossing it on the chair in the corner.
Does he need that hoodie or could I have it? I’d like to slip it on and fall asleep in his scent.
“Now me.” My hands go up as his eyes search for permission to double check that this is okay, “Oh for gosh sakes.” I yank it off, tossing it away as my hands reach for him, bringing him back to me, “I’m okay. Now kiss me.” His lips are on mine again, warm and demanding.
I understand what people say about bruising lips; as he kisses he strokes his tongue against mine with his lips pressed hard to mine. Cam is pressing his hips down and I feel his cock against me, through his jeans he’s so hard and rubbing against my core.
There is a mark on his pants for sure from my slick.
“Do you have a condom?” I breathe out as his lips slip down my neck, his hands just about to cup my breasts.
I’d like his mouth on them. Sucking and nipping at my nipples. Drawing them into his mouth until I’m screaming out his name as I come.
Cameron freezes, sits up, and like any frat fool around boy would do, goes to his wallet which feels like a red flag .
There is something about keeping condoms in a wallet that always irks me.
I don’t know where I expect men to carry them but it just feels like such a douche move. I’m not sure if it’s the thought of it breaking or how long it’s been in there or maybe he put it in there before coming over and that doesn’t sit well.
“Shit.” He looks at me, his eyes hungry as they rove down my body but I’m already moving under my blankets to cover up.
Sexy time is over.
Most alphas and omegas have sex without protection. As long as it’s not a heat they aren’t really at risk of being fertile but I’m coming down from my heat and since I’ve been on suppressants for so long it does knock things off a bit.
And I don’t need any little babies running around when I think about flying without wings off a bridge almost daily.
“I can-”
“It’s my bedtime. I have work tomorrow.” I’m dismissing him and I can see the frustration on his face at the way that I just shut him down without any real reason.
It’s rude but I’m feeling pouty.
Maybe I am a brat.
He grunts, standing, and adjusting himself. My eyes flashing down to the very clear outline of a cock that I gladly would have sucked tonight.
My perfume scents the air at the thought of his cock. Now that is something I would like to suck on.
“Are you on birth control?” He asks, my eyebrow raises and the walls fall around me as I now fully check out of this conversation.
Frat fool around boy alpha hole.
“Listen, I didn’t do guys without a condom. It doesn’t matter what I have to protect myself. If you want to fool around with me, bring your negative STD test and come prepared next time with condoms in a box.” He freezes and turns back, grabbing his hoodie off the chair because he can see how mad I am.
I expect a fight but instead he moves me, pulling his hoodie over me before leaning in and giving me a soft, chaste kiss. He rubs his neck against my cheek and the scent marks me again.
It’s so comforting that I want to cry.
He doesn’t even seem mad at me for telling him that I wasn’t going to go further. He just respect my boundaries and heard what I had to say.
Frick .
“Goodnight, baby brat. I’ll see you tomorrow for our date .” I hear the words clear, grumbling to myself as he makes it to the door.
I feel so safe right now. Even though I’m soaked and sticky there is something about the way that his scent surrounds me that makes me feel so good.
My omega brain is melting the reasonable part of my brain as I hug his hoodie against myself.
“Text me that you made it home okay.” I regret it instantly before I can see the smile forming on his face.
Shouldn’t have shown him that I care.
What’s wrong with me?
Cameron should smile all the time. He’s so stunning with his dark eyes all lit up. Even that weird mustache of his should be a red flag but I’m over here wanting to sign up for a mustache ride.
Hate that it makes my stomach burst out in all sorts of butterflies. I hope it’s my appendix bursting instead.
“So you can be sweet. Good to know. Goodnight, baby brat. I’ll text you.” And then he’s gone from my apartment with a click of the lock behind him. Leaving me covered in his sweatshirt and sticky from my own cum soaked panties.
I am so screwed because I’m looking forward to his text and even more to seeing him tomorrow.
What a nightmare.