Chapter 30
THIRTY
“This is a bad idea,” I hiss at Mav as I unpack groceries into Crystal’s cabinets. “She’s going to be pissed.”
“What? No, she’s not. This is what a pack does,” he insists as he turns on a burner on the stove. “We take care of one another.”
“Typically, that doesn’t involve breaking and entering!”
He blows a raspberry at me and waves me away. “She wouldn’t have left her spare keys hanging on a hook by the door if she didn’t want me to take them.” A soft sizzle and the smell of butter fill the air. “Now, do you want a grilled cheese?”
I slump against the counter, twisting the top off a cider. “Nah, man. Celiac, remember?”
The Alpha turns to look at me like I’m a moron, fisting the loaf of bread by the neck of the bag. “I know. It’s gluten-free bread.”
I nearly spit out my drink as I stare at him. “You got gluten-free bread? Why?”
“Why? Because cross-contamination is a serious issue, dude. I don’t want you to get sick. Plus, what if making out with our Omega after she eats a sandwich gets you sick or something? That would be devastating.” He slides the sandwich onto a plate and pushes it across the counter towards me. “Eat.”
Maverick is an interesting guy. He’s got this magnetic personality that makes it hard to break your eyes away from him. I think I could talk to him for ages and never hear the same thing twice. I watch the black tank top slouch off his shoulders as he preps another sandwich, and I bite into mine.
I can’t remember the last time someone took care of me like this. The simple act of choosing gluten-free bread to ensure I have something to eat is massive. How many times have I gone hungry so I don’t get sick?
After all of us crashed together, Maverick and I exchanged numbers. He texts a lot.
A lot.
But it’s been fun to get to know him.
I already know Emmanuel, for the most part. It’s weird to think of him in the context of a packmate.
It’s still a little unbelievable that I went all in so fast on Crystal.
“Am I messed up that I’m diving into everything with Crys headfirst like this?” I ask Mav as he plates his sandwich. “I mean, we’re dating. Or like. We were going to have a date, and then it’s bam, meet my pack. It’s heavy.”
He hums melodically and runs his fingers through his dark hair. “Yeah, it is heavy. I mean, I just met her, and I’m all in, but she’s my scent match, so this part of us knows that we are destined. But you’ve not got pheromone magic swimming in your head. You’ve got you and Crystal.”
“Me and Crystal,” I whisper. “She’s been my muse, the girl of my dreams, for four years. I told her I know her, and she knows me. But when she’s not here in front of me, it feels like…”
“Like what you feel for her can’t possibly be real,” he finishes. “I get that. But you know it’s real, don’t you? I know science says that Betas can’t scent match and can’t bond into packs, but I refuse to believe that there isn’t something that pulls a Beta toward a pack. Just as much as Crystal is ours, so are you, Gage. I feel it here.” My breath catches in my throat when he places his hand over his heart.
How can such a small thing make me feel so special?
I have daddy issues, unfortunately. I never knew him. And my mom was a junkie. My brother went off to college and barely came back.
All I had for a while was Emmanuel until my mom died, and I ended up in foster care. Then I lost him, too.
The idea of having a family, a place to belong, is all I have ever wanted.
“It’s not a coincidence that the one consistent figure in my childhood is a part of this pack,” I say quietly. “It can’t be.”
“I don’t think so either.” He slaps me on the shoulder and shakes me gently. “So perk up, buttercup. No getting rid of me now.”
I don’t think I’d want to.
The front door opens, and Burger comes zooming in through the open patio door, barking madly.
“What the FUCK?” Crystal yells.
“Welcome home, Omega!” Maverick calls out melodically. “How was work?”
She stumbles into the kitchen, Burger hot on her heels, jaw slack with confusion. Her makeup is smudged, and she looks dead on her feet as she slumps against the counter.
“I… what?” Her mouth gapes open as she looks between the two of us. “It is three in the morning, and you’re in my house? With your dog?”
“Of course, we’re here, Crystal. You’re our Omega. Who else is going to make sure you eat after a long day at work?” Maverick flips the sandwich in the pan.
“I…what?” she says again.
“I think you broke her, Mav.” I wrap my hands around her waist and pull her towards my chest as Burger tangles between our feet. “Sorry if this makes you uncomfortable. Maverick texted me, and it seemed like a good idea to surprise you here at the time.”
“How did you get in?” Her voice sounds a little stronger as the Alpha slides a grilled cheese sandwich in front of her.
“Stole your spare key,” he says casually. “My Alpha instincts were going wild, knowing where you were and knowing I couldn’t take care of you. And with Puck?” He shakes his head, shaggy brown hair falling in his eyes. “I don’t care if he finally told you the truth. I don’t trust him.”
“Me neither, honestly,” I add. “And knowing that Kieran wants to give you away?” Bile rises in my throat, and I squeeze her waist a little tighter. “I’m always going to worry that you won’t come home.”
She takes small bites of the sandwich, looking between us with an odd expression. Eventually, she pushes the plate away and bends to rub Burger’s head. “Where’s Emmanuel?”
“He had a migraine,” Mav replies. “But he said he’s coming over tomorrow.”
She makes an agreeing noise and shakily stands. “The chief of police had his bachelor party tonight. Apparently, Kieran is a big donor.”
“Well, that’s fucking depressing,” the DJ says, resting on his elbows on the counter. “I know my dad is clean, obviously, but if the chief isn’t? I guess Puck was right about not going to the police.”
I close the patio door and toss Burger’s stuffed pizza slice onto the bed I set up in the corner of the living room for him.
Wow, I made myself at home real quick, huh?
“Let’s get you in bed. You work in the morning, right?” I gently tug Crystal down the hall.
“Yeah, at eight,” she grumbles.
“Oh, you’ll get a solid four hours of sleep!” Maverick teases as he sandwiches Crystal between us. “At least it’s Friday?”
* * *
Win wrinkles their nose at me as I walk through the door.
“What?” I ask, looking down my body. My clothes are clean, the black band T-shirt is slightly wrinkled, but no worse for wear.
“You smell like happy,” they say with a snort of a laugh. “Like it’s oozing out of your pores.”
“The word ooze is gross,” I respond as I push past them. “But I am happy, yeah.”
“It’s the Omega, isn’t it?” When I spin around to look at them, they have a smug smile. Win is tall and willowy, with the strangest Alpha energy I’ve ever encountered. They’re always dressed in a way that screams ‘art school dropout,’ and today is no exception, with a getup that looks like various pieces of gauze wrapped around them. “Crystal.”
“What makes you say that?”
They tap the side of their nose. “I smell her pheromones. Sweet, but nothing specific.”
“So it worked out, then?” Trina’s voice fills the room as she exits her office and kisses Win’s cheek. “You took her out?”
“I…” I chew on my lip as I make my way to my station, unsure how much to tell them. Eventually, I decide to go for broke and pour out the mess of my feelings on the floor.
“Well, we were texting and everything, and then I find out she has recently met two Alphas, and she wanted me to meet them because she didn’t want to cut us off at the knees, ya know? And it’s be disrespectful to proceed with anything without talking to them, so she invites me over for dinner and I meet them, and it turns out one of them is Emmanuel – yes, that Emmanuel, Trina – and the other is fucking Manic Mav. And anyway, it all feels very serious very fast but also like it’s the right thing, and basically, I’m freaking out because I’m fucking young, ya know, and she’s an Omega, and what does she need me for and-”
“Woahhhh there,” Trina says as she pulls me to her chest. “Breathe, Gage. That’s a whole lot more than I was expecting.”
“You’re telling me.” I slump into her arms and sigh softly. “Am I crazy for not wanting to take this slow? For wanting to go all in?”
“I mean, it’s a little insta-lovey,” Win says dismissively. “I know some people don’t believe in it, but I happen to enjoy it. Love at first sight or scent? How romantic.”
“It’s not first sight, though, is it? I mean, I’ve known her for four years.”
“Exactly,” Trina agrees. “Does it feel wrong, or is it scary?” she asks me.
I take a moment to let that question roll over me. There’s never been a moment with Crystal that has felt wrong. Fuck, even Maverick feels inevitable in a way.
And that’s not even touching on how much Emmanuel has always meant to me.
“It’s scary,” I answer quietly, with no doubt in my mind. “It’s fucking terrifying.”
“You didn’t take me for a coward.” Trina crosses her arms over her chest, the red and white checkered dress bunching up with the motion.
“I know. I had this conversation with Crystal about how she was worried this was moving too fast, but then the moment I was away from her, I started to second-guess myself. Why is that?”
Win floats down on a stool and crosses one ankle over the other. “If I had to guess, your rational brain takes a backseat to your emotional one when you’re with her. Then, when you’re apart, you’re suddenly digging into it with too much logic. Love isn’t logic.”
“Who said this is love?” The word makes my stomach clench, and I find myself looking anywhere and everywhere but at Win.
“Pssh. Don’t even try, Gage. Our society has been built on pheromones. Alphas and Omegas are drawn towards one another with pack bonds and scents. And Betas are left out of it. Who researches on Betas? Who studies them? Look online, and you will find many stories of people saying that Betas have special bonds they can form with Alphas and Omegas.” They give Trina a smile that makes me feel like I am intruding on something. “So you can try to convince yourself all you want that you’re moving too fast or your feelings don’t make sense, but you know better. Love isn’t logic. It is irrational and uncontrollable. And what is more irrational than you diving headfirst into a pack with the woman whose story you’ve held in your hands? Those tattoos? We all know that’s not cosmetic.”
Of course, I know that now, but I won’t reveal that to Win and Trina. I can’t. Win continues.
“Those tattoos are her pure truth. And you’ve taken something that could’ve been ugly and painful and made it into a beautiful piece of art. Maybe others won’t understand you going all in right away. But they don’t have your eyes. Just because they can’t see the beauty, why try to convince yourself it isn’t there?”