Chapter 24
Leo
Lucy took off running down Main Street and I barely resisted the urge to smash my head against town hall’s brick exterior. I’d been rude and defensive about my cane when she was just being sweet.
I stared after her like a lovesick puppy.
I had no idea what she was planning, but I was sure it was a ploy to keep me from having to walk.
Which I should appreciate, but I wanted to be the one taking care of her.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have a choice tonight.
I’d tweaked my knee earlier while unloading a flower order, and it screamed in agony as I half collapsed onto the town hall steps.
It was probably a good thing Lucy wasn’t here to witness that. Omegas needed strong partners. At least, that’s what I’d always been told.
Designations had never been a big deal growing up.
Everyone in my family was a beta except for Parisa, a rare omega born to beta parents, but things changed once my classmates started revealing as alphas in high school.
It only got worse in college. I’d roomed with three alphas—guys I’d been friends with for years—until they’d decided to form a pack without me.
They left me to live alone my sophomore year in a tiny single room.
I eventually dropped out to work with Ocean Rescue full-time.
I’d been told more than once that omegas didn’t want or need betas. Even though I’d rolled my eyes at the obvious alpha-centric propaganda, I’d apparently internalized the messaging more than I’d thought.
A golf cart came careening down the road, pulling me from my morose reminiscing.
I gritted my teeth as the driver let out a whoop and started doing doughnuts in the middle of the empty street.
Where was Stanley when you needed him? Starlight Grove’s human mayor was over the top with his ordinance enforcement, but this person was going to hurt themselves if they didn’t slow down.
After another doughnut, the golf cart sped toward me. I squinted as I tried to make out the shadowy figure driving. My jaw dropped for the second time this evening when the streetlight glinted off of Lucy’s gold hair.
A burst of laughter escaped my chest when she pulled up in front of me, eyes bright and cheeks pink.
“Woo! That was so fun! Jump in, Leo.”
“I didn’t know you had a golf cart.”
“I don’t. This is Stanley’s.”
“He let you borrow it?”
“Nope. Now enough stalling.” She patted the spot beside her.
She was right—I was stalling. I was pretty sure I had about a fifty-fifty chance of dying if I got in, but apparently I didn’t care because I was already halfway into the passenger seat.
“You can hold this.” She plopped a white box on my lap that I guessed contained whatever remained of the cake after her erratic driving. “You ready?”
I tightened my hold on the box. “Umm, we don’t need to—”
My words were cut off as Lucy accelerated the golf cart. I swore and threw an arm across her so she didn’t fall out. She just laughed and patted my arm.
“How is this thing so fast?” I shouted.
“My brother hot-wired it and installed an extra-powerful battery.”
She took a sharp turn around the corner and I hung on for dear life.
“Stanley wanted a turbo golf cart?”
She just grinned, and I shook my head, amusement lighting up my chest. “And you look so innocent.”
“Looks can be deceiving.” She winked.
We passed the fire station and kept going. There wasn’t much out this direction besides the ocean.
“Where are we going?”
“One of my favorite spots in town. I discovered it when I was little and ran away from home.”
We turned onto a narrow dirt path I’d never noticed before. The golf cart’s headlights barely illuminated the road ahead, and I was almost taken out by a low-hanging pine branch.
“Why did you run away from home?” I asked, desperately needing to distract myself from our imminent demise. I lunged to knock away another branch that almost got Lucy in the face.
“I had a flair for drama when I was young.”
I bit my lip to hide my smile. Lucy had retained her flair for the dramatic into her adulthood.
Two town meetings ago, she’d gotten into a heated argument with Stanley about the importance of having period-appropriate costumes for the school’s production of Little Women.
Now I knew more about the history of zippers than I ever needed to, but I could listen to Lucy talk forever.
I let out a strangled noise as we hit a divot. The cart lurched and the cake almost flew off my lap. I clutched the cardboard box in one hand and my cane in the other.
“What made you run away?” I asked through clenched teeth.
“I watched a documentary in school about whales being kept in captivity and how awful it is for them, and I didn’t think my family was taking the issue seriously enough.
I decided to hold a protest in town—I made a poster that said Free the Whales, complete with hand-drawn illustrations—but my moms said they were too busy to join.
After I walked up and down Main Street a couple times, I got bored and decided to run away. ”
I could imagine it—a tiny Lucy with her handmade sign and righteous indignation.
“I would have joined your protest.”
“Yeah?” Her lips curved into a smile.
“Yeah.”
A matching smile appeared on my lips even as my knuckles turned white from trying to stay on the golf cart.
We were going uphill now, squeezing through a narrow tunnel of trees.
Finally, we emerged into a small clearing at the top of a cliff overlooking the water.
The Starlight Grove lighthouse was to our right, its beacon illuminating the water, and the town twinkling below us.
Lucy parked. “Cool secret place, right?”
“It’s beautiful.” Without the hum of the golf cart, I could hear the gentle crash of ocean waves below and the occasional hoot of a bird. I stretched my arm along the back of our seats, wishing I was brave enough to pull her into my side. “Do you come up here with your friends?”
She shook her head, her eyes fixed on the horizon. “I’ve never brought anyone up here.”
My heart stuttered, and the rejection I’d felt this morning evaporated into the night air. “I feel very special, then.”
“You are.” She tentatively leaned back until she brushed my arm. That little touch was enough to set me on fire. The more I got of Lucy, the more I craved her.
I took a chance and twirled the ends of her hair around my finger. “What happened when you ran away?”
“I stumbled upon the dirt path and kept walking until I found this spot. I decided I would just live in the woods to punish my family for not taking me seriously. But eventually, I got hungry. By the time I got back to town, I was sunburned and cranky. Marisol saw me pass by, and she pulled me into the market, fed me a sandwich, and listened to me cry about the whales.” She gave a little shrug. “And then I headed home.”
“Your moms must have been relieved when you got back.”
She let out a broken laugh. “I thought they’d be crying and apologize for not caring about the whales upon my return, but they hadn’t even noticed I was missing. To be fair, it felt like I’d been gone for days, but it was only a couple of hours. See, dramatic.”
I frowned. “It’s not dramatic to care about things.” Lucy spoke positively about her family, but it didn’t sound like they were all that supportive. “I thought you were close with your moms?”
“Oh, I definitely am. I go over to their house all the time, and I know I can always count on them and Lars. I just…sometimes it feels like they don’t always understand me.
Maybe it’s a designation thing. I’ve had really strong omega traits since I was little, and it made me really sensitive.
I think it was confusing for my alpha moms. But my mormor—grandma—was an omega, and she lived down the street.
She always said I took after her.” She fell silent as she gazed out at the waves.
“She passed away when I was ten. Actually, the whale protest was shortly after she died. It was a hard time for all of us, and I think what I really wanted was for her to show up here and tell me everything was going to be okay.”
This time, I didn’t hold back as I curled my arm around her shoulders. She melted into my side.
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine losing my Bibi.”
“I enjoyed meeting her at the festival. Have you always been close?”
I nodded, my cheek brushing the top of her head. “Definitely. Parisa and I went to her house after school every day when we were little. She’s the one who got me into growing flowers. We spent so many hours together in her garden in Iran.”
“Mormor is the one who taught me how to sew. She left me all her sewing machines, and that’s what I used to start my store.”
We lapsed into a comfortable silence, and with every passing moment, Lucy relaxed farther into me.
She trailed her finger along the box in my lap. “Should we eat some cake?”
I snorted a laugh. “I’m not sure how well it survived the treacherous journey.”
“Ugly cake is still cake. And I haven’t eaten dinner, so I’m not picky.”
“You need to eat dinner.” My words came out in a stern tone I didn’t recognize. Everyone in my life knew me as laid-back Leo, but Lucy seemed to bring out another side of me.
She gestured at the box. “Uh-huh. Dinner.”
I shook my head. This girl. “I guess I’m going to have to make sure you eat real food tomorrow.”
“Whatever you need to do,” she said primly.
Lucy pointed my phone’s flashlight at the box as I opened it, revealing a cake that looked absolutely perfect.
“And you were acting like my driving was bad.” She pulled out two plastic forks from her small purse.
“I plead the fifth.”
She elbowed me, laughing, and dug in. I followed, my eyes widening as the taste of fresh mango burst on my tongue. I immediately loaded my fork with another bite.
“Summer made this?”