9. Lilah
CHAPTER 9
Lilah
In an attempt to avoid the other omegas, I grab a pastry and take it outside to eat in relative quiet. Willow, the girl from last night—when Chad insulted Ben—lounges in a chair, overlooking the huge backyard and infinity pool.
I settle onto one a few seats away from her and stare off into the distance nibbling on my breakfast.
“It’s nuts in there, isn’t it?” she asks.
I nod. “Yeah. It isn’t what I expected.” The fluttering of activity as they all stress to get ready has a sour smell clinging to the air, even with the blockers.
I sniff my wrist for any lingering perfume, but the soft smell of my lilac body lotion soothes me, reassuring me that I smell nothing like the cookies and cream I normally do when I'm off the pills. Or like the sour grapes scent in the air inside.
She laughs. “What did you expect?”
I shrug half-heartedly. “I’m not sure. I’ve watched every season, but I guess I didn’t imagine what it would actually be like to be here…in the midst of it all.”
Voices rise inside with a wave of excitement, cutting off our conversation. The film crew arrived a short time ago, so I assume it's the alphas arriving now. Pushing to my feet, I take a steadying breath as a strange fluttering takes hold of my belly.
Willow stands up with a sigh. “I guess we should get in there.”
“Yeah.”
I want to turn around when we enter the large living room. Seriously, it’s huge. I didn’t really take it in fully last night. Five couches hold all the other omegas as the guys stand in front of them, their backs to us.
My gaze roves over Miles first. He’s changed and showered, his blond hair still slightly damp. He wears a soft-looking flannel that my fingers crave to touch. That’s absolutely hormones talking, and I crush the thought as my eyes dip down to his jeans. They fit him nicely, and his ass is perfect from behind.
Before I can shift my attention from Miles to one of the others, Thomas, the director notices us.
He shouts, “Cut! Come on, find a seat.” He waves at us, and my ears feel like they have burst into flame, and my cheeks feel hot. Way to call me out.
Chad smirks over at me, enjoying the embarrassment I’d guess. Rafe turns his head in my direction and pins me with a look that screams that he regards me as something gross stuck to the bottom of his shoe. Then his face smooths out and I’m second-guessing what I saw.
Hurrying after Willow, I head for an empty arm of one of the sofas and perch my ass on it. When I lift my eyes, Elliott gives me a soft smile. And it makes my entire body feel funny. Am I getting sick? Is that what the feeling in the pit of my stomach is? Maybe I should skip the outing.
Once we are settled, filming resumes. My ears ring as Turner Clark explains that we will be splitting into three groups. I cast my eyes over the three of them at the same time all the other omegas do. Licking my lips nervously, I look at Chad.
We have a plan; he needs to win one of them over. And with Elliott’s words from last night, maybe it would be best to keep my distance from him until Chad has an in. Pile on my reaction to Miles this morning and I’m pretty sure the only option for me is Rafe. My palms sweaty, I brush them down my jeans and link my fingers together in my lap.
Just the idea of volunteering to go with Rafe has angry hornets stinging the shit out of my stomach and making me feel like I’m going to puke my breakfast pastry all over him. Sure, make it two times, this one will be bigger, because anyone with a TV and a subscription to the streaming service could watch it on repeat.
As I’m having an existential crisis, the beautiful brunette that Rafe escorted into the house last night steps forward. The perfect smile pulls at her lips, and it hits me. I know who she is, and it isn’t from inside the house.
She is a model. Hailey Gray.
She actually won the show my sister is a judge on. Holy shit. The pieces click together like a puzzle. They should really just call the show a wrap because not a single omega here can compete with the fact that she is also Rafe’s ex-omega.
I watch as she shimmies up to Rafe and links her arm through his, all while the cameras get every move. She’s staking a claim. If we could scent her, I’m sure her perfume would scream, this one is mine .
“If we get to pick, I’m going with Rafe,” she says, smiling a dazzling smile up at him, which he returns, but there is something that looks off about it.
His pack shifts on their feet as they look from the brunette to Rafe. Then the host interjects, saying that it will be random, and we will each pick a name out of a jar .
“Maybe next time, Hailey,” Rafe says, attempting to smoothly step away from her.
My heart jumps at the barely perceptible annoyance that tugs at his brow when she clings to him. She pouts, looking as if she’s going to throw a fit, before her face smooths out and she paints a serene mask on her face. Whoa, scary . I think I much prefer Chad’s brand of omega bitch over Hailey’s. At least he tells you what he thinks.
Everyone lines up like little sheep being led to the slaughter. I bring up the rear and watch as the omegas in front of me pick and reveal who their group is. Tamika gets Miles and squeals like she’s won the lottery. An almost wistful sigh slips from between my lips as his group fills up, and Elliott’s on pace with his.
I mentally count the omegas standing with each of them. There’s only five of us left to pick. Rafe still has three open spots, while the others only have one each. I swallow. Maybe I should have attempted to be near the front so I had a higher chance to be paired with anyone but him. No, this is what I want. Right? He’s the only one that I don’t have a spark with. Well, that’s a lie, there is a spark…it just isn’t returned, thanks to my puking all over him. Which is understandable.
His golden eyes land on me and stay there as he blatantly stares at me moving up the line. Kayla draws Rafe, and I release my held lungful of air. One down. The guy from the bed next to mine gets Elliott, and I suck in a breath. Crap. Two left for him and three of us remain. Those are not good odds. Wait, no, they are great odds. I want Rafe. I need to stay away from the other two.
The girl at the front of the line, I think her name is Dawn, reaches her hand tentatively into the jar. “I’ll be happy with any of y’all,” she says in a southern twang that reminds me of Gone with the Wind —my sister used to be obsessed with the movie .
The air freezes in my chest as she unfolds her name. Her lips curl up into a pretty smile. “I got Rafe.”
He finally releases me from his intense gaze to look at the girl. “Looks like it’s my lucky day, honey.”
She giggles, and he gives her a half hug, adding her to his line up. The guy in front of me, Brian maybe, reaches in, and in slow motion, he reveals his name. Miles. I can read it clearly before he says his name. That leaves me with Rafe. Of course it does. I have no luck. Or all the luck? Ugh, make up my mind.
Rafe stiffens as Brian reads the name from his scrap of paper. His gaze shifts to me, knowing the same thing I do. The name on my paper will be his.
A cameraman zooms into my face as I reach into the jar and fish out the last name. I try to channel the sweetheart they say I'll be and fix a smile to my lips.
“Rafe,” I say breathlessly, and I'm not sure I am even faking it because my heart’s beating a million miles a minute, and my legs feel wobbly beneath me.
He gives me a rakish smile that makes me feel like I'm going to melt into a puddle at his feet.
This is it. Time for the performance of my life.