Chapter 27
A frown curves across my lips as I step back to survey my painting.
Dammit. It’s still not right.
No matter how many times I’ve tried over the past week, I can’t seem to put my vision to the canvas. The art I’ve attempted is crude and uninspired, even for an amateur like me.
I’d hoped that this would be a good low stress hobby to pick back up, but apparently not.
I used to love painting. Growing up, it was the one thing I didn’t have to be perfect at, and I didn’t care about the end result.
Mostly because I never told people about my paintings.
While some kids were hiding their drugs and hooking up behind their parents’ backs, I was squirreling away shitty art supplies and dabbling with a paintbrush while they weren’t around.
The thing is, I didn’t have to hide it. My parents wouldn’t have been mad at me for being artistic. Not at all. If they’d known, they would’ve enrolled me in classes and pushed me to practice whenever I had a spare moment.
Still, I needed something for myself. Something that didn’t come with any judgement but my own.
I’m sure I’d be a lot better by now if I hadn’t kept my art a secret.
But, as my therapist Dr. Alley reminds me, “allowing yourself to be bad at something is good for you.” Or at least it is for someone who has spent his entire life pressuring himself to be the best at everything and not fall short of others’ expectations of him.
Doesn’t mean I like being bad at things.
With a frustrated sigh, I set the canvas to the side in the small pile of rejects I’ve accumulated. At this rate, I’m going to run out of funds for supplies before I get anything worth keeping.
Usually I’m able to get myself out of my self-critical headspace after a day or two, but it’s persistent as of late. I’m not obtuse enough to be confused about why that’s the case.
Waiting to know if I’ll get the chance to see Camille again is fucking with my head.
Logically, I know that if she doesn’t accept our pack’s courtship offer, it isn’t my fault.
I had no part in the way River acted or their working relationship.
But logic doesn’t come into play when there’s a nasty voice in my head telling me at least part of Camille’s rejection would be because of personal failings.
Because no one wants to be with a goofy pain in the ass beta for anything more than a bit of fun.
Ugh, enough. Time to get my head out of my ass.
I scoop Dolly up as I leave my room, and we get geared up for a walk. The mid-morning sunshine feels good after being cooped up inside, and the sight of my sweet pup’s ears bouncing as she happily makes her way down the sidewalk never fails to make me smile.
We’re halfway around our usual small circuit of the neighborhood when my phone rings. I fish around in my pocket, pulling it out with a slight frown. It’s probably just a spam call, but I should check in case it’s my parents.
I startle and trip a little over my feet when I see the name on the screen. Dahlia looks up and cocks her head at me, confused by the abrupt stop. Heart racing, I pull over out of the way of other pedestrians and I fumble my phone a bit before answering the call.
“Camille?” I cringe a little at how breathless and excited I sound.
Her hesitant voice comes through from the other end. “Oh! H-hey, Jackson.” There’s a brief pause as she clears her throat. “Sorry to call. I didn’t think you’d pick up. I was going to leave you a message. Hope I’m not bothering you.”
“Don’t be sorry! I’m so happy you called me. You’re not bothering me at all. You can call me any time. You’d never be a bother!”
I have zero chill as I word vomit my enthusiasm, but I can’t get myself to stop.
“Oh…Well, that’s good.”
The line is silent for a handful of heartbeats, long enough for my elation to deflate.
Crap, what if she was calling for a bad reason and that’s why she wanted to leave a message? Did she call to break up? Not that it can even be called a breakup if we’re not dating yet, but if she rejects me, that’s what it’ll feel like.
“Whatever you want to say, I want to know,” I say thickly, attempting to reassure both Camille and myself. Knowing her answer has got to be better than waiting around with the uncertainty hanging over my head.
“I spoke to River on Monday and he, uh…he told me you and Ambrose would still like to court me.” Her tone provides no indication of how she feels about that offer.
I squat down next to Dolly, scooping her up to hold her awkwardly against my chest. She lets out a little groan of protest since I don’t normally carry her around with her wheels on. But I need her soft, furry body to keep me calm as I brace myself for whatever Camille is going to say.
“Yeah, he mentioned that. Did you, uh, have any thoughts about that?”
Camille releases a wry chuckle. “Oh, I have a lot of thoughts. Too many, really.”
“Were any of them good thoughts?” I prompt, stomach clenching with anticipation and dread.
Her voice is warmer when she speaks again, the sound oozing through me like honey, soothing all the scratchy, irritated parts of my mind. “Yes. That’s why I’m calling.”
“Oh, thank fuck,” I blurt. “I was worried for a second you were calling to say no.”
Once again, absolutely no chill. Oh well. Hopefully she finds that charming.
“I… I want to try. Maybe it’ll be a disaster, but I’d like to see you again.”
“I’d like that, too. I’ve missed you. Shit, sorry, is that weird to admit?”
Her laugh this time is less restrained. “Maybe. But I missed you too.”
I can imagine her saying that to me while looking up at me through those thick lashes, a hint of pink coloring her freckled cheeks. My dick twitches at the image.
“Are you free now?” My voice is thick from the twinge of arousal, and I clear my throat. “We could go get lunch. Or, if you’re busy, I could take you to dinner whenever you’re available.”
“I was actually wondering if you’d be willing to go to Nesting with me sometime. I need to go pick up some things, but the idea of going alone is…intimidating.”
I perk up, eager to be useful. “Oh! Yeah, absolutely. I’d love to go with you. Though, fair warning, I don’t know shit about making a nest beyond what I’ve encountered at work. Ambrose might be a better choice to bring.”
I mentally chastise myself as I tack that last part on. She called me. I don’t want Ambrose to take my place, even if he’d be more knowledgeable.
“No, it’s good that you don’t know much!” Camille replies quickly.
My brow furrows. “It is?”
“Yeah,” she says with a small chuckle. “It’s more than a little embarrassing how clueless I am, but if you’re there with me…”
Ah! I get it. “You’ll look good in comparison,” I finish for her.
“No, no. Shit, that came out wrong. We’ll be equally clueless, and I won’t feel like you’re silently judging me. I’m sure Ambrose wouldn’t do that, but I’m more comfortable being a mess with you.”
I laugh, delighting in the fact that she’s the most comfortable with me, even if it’s probably because she knows I’m also a mess. “I like you messy, gorgeous,” I reply, infusing a hint of heat into my voice.
“Oh, god.” She chuckles, sounding a little breathless. “You can’t say shit like that while we’re at the nest store.”
I grin to myself. “Why not?”
“I’ve changed my mind. This was a bad idea,” she groans.
“Okay, okay, no teasing at the nest store. I promise.” I’m sure as hell going to tease her as much as she’ll let me when we’re not in there, though. I’m obsessed with the way she reacts to me riling her up.
“Thank you.” She lets out a soft exhale. “Seriously, I appreciate it. It’ll be really nice to spend some time together. It feels wrong that you’ve been inside me, and I don’t even know your last name.”
I make a small choked sound at her casual mention of us fucking. “It’s Knight. Now that you know, do you want me inside you again?” I say it teasingly, but set Dolly back down so I can cover my swelling cock before any passersby notice me getting hard and think I’m some kind of sidewalk pervert.
Camille snorts. “Maybe once I find out more. Like where you were born.”
“Do you also want my date of birth and my social security number? The name of my first pet?”
A peal of laughter erupts from Camille, loud enough through the phone speakers that Dolly hears it. Her ears perk up, her head snapping around to look for the source.
“Damn, you figured me out.” Camille sighs dramatically. “Oh well, guess I’ll have to steal someone else’s identity.”
“Go for Ambrose. Old people are notorious for falling for identity theft schemes.”
She giggles. “Thanks for the tip.” Her laughter dies down and there’s a brief pause before she continues. “You said you were free today. Do you want to go get it over with?”
I scoff. “Uh, do I want to spend time with the funniest, sexiest omega I’ve ever met and help her pick out things for her nest?”
“Who are they? I didn’t know I had competition.” Camille’s joking, but I remember how uncomfortable she was with compliments before her heat overrid her insecurities.
“Listen, if we’re doing this whole courting thing, you’re going to have to accept that I think you’re sexy as fuck, and have the brains and wit to match. You’re amazing, Camille. Deal with it.”
“Yes, sir,” she replies, the bratty edge to her tone sending a thrill through me.
“Good girl. Now, what time do you want me to pick you up?”
As much as I would’ve loved to see the look on Camille’s face if I rolled up to her apartment on my motorcycle, I end up borrowing Ambrose’s car since we’ll need to have something to bring our purchases back with.
It’s probably for the best, since having the beautiful omega clinging to me with her spectacular tits pressed against my back might’ve been too much for me to keep what little cool I have left.
When I arrive at her apartment building, she’s already waiting outside. There’s a moment of dread as my eyes flash to the clock on the dash to make sure I’m not late, but if anything, I’m a few minutes early.
Looks like she’s eager to see me. Either that, or she doesn’t want me coming inside and seeing her place.
There are no spaces open to park on the street, so I pull up as close as I can get and keep the engine running.
When Camille doesn’t notice me after a few seconds, too busy frowning down at her phone with her springy red curls falling into her face, I roll down the passenger window. “Hey gorgeous. Need a ride?”
She startles and looks up from her phone, eyes wide for a moment, before a smile settles onto her face.
My heart skips a beat.
Fuck, she’s perfect.
I try not to stare at the way her tits jiggle under her fitted top as she scurries over to get in the car before people honk at me for blocking traffic.
“Hey!” she says breathlessly, sliding into the passenger seat.
“Hi!” I beam back at her, unable to contain my wide smile. I’m so damn happy to see her again. Especially since I didn’t know if I ever would.
“Thanks for picking me up! My car is, uh, a bit of a mess.”
I nod. “No problem! If I had a car, it’d probably be a mess, too. Luckily, I can steal Ambrose’s instead and pretend to be put together.”
She giggles, pushing a curl behind her ear. “You don’t need to pretend. Every time I see you, you look flawless.” Her cheeks flare red at her own words, making my smile widen.
“You think I’m flawless?” I ask, leaning toward her. Camille’s breath hitches at my proximity, her glossy pink lips parting as I reach toward her.
“You know you are,” she murmurs, eyes wide and probably wondering if I’m going to be brazen enough to grab her tit five seconds after seeing her. She doesn’t move to stop me, though.
Interesting. I file that reaction away as I grab the seat belt and pull it across her, slotting it in to the buckle with a click.
I inhale, eager to get some of her energizing scent, but it’s not there. Damn, she must be wearing a neutralizer. I wonder why. It’s perfectly fine to go out most places without it on because most modern buildings have pretty sophisticated air filtration systems.
A honk from some pissy driver stuck behind us has me pulling away. “Safety first,” I say, winking.
She huffs out a strained laugh, her face still flushed as I pull back onto the road.
God, I love how she turns pink at the slightest provocation. At this rate, I’m going to have a hard time keeping my promise not to tease her at the nest store.