Chapter 39
chapter
thirty-nine
“Oh. My. God.”
I nod at Emma’s open-mouthed expression, pouring myself another margarita. “Yeah, I know.”
She sits forward, balancing on the rickety lawn chair beneath her. Ignoring the teal metal’s creak, she darts a covert glance at Betty’s screen door to make sure my neighbor is still occupied inside.
“You mean, while I was at the market trying to find Zane’s whole vanilla beans and McKinley’s organic dog treats, you were getting rutted ?” she hisses. Her lower lip pops out. “No fair.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, because you never get rutted.”
She sips from her frozen glass, shrugging. “Only like once a month. Or twice, during hockey season.”
“Shut up.” I laugh, kicking at her with my bare foot. “This is serious, Em. We have a situation here.”
My best friend blinks big green eyes, tilting her head until her blonde bun flops over.
“You mean the pack alpha snapping into a rut because you left your scent all over their team’s locker room— which , BY THE WAY, we will be discussing, young lady—or the fact that he was barely able to let you walk across the street just now? ”
I grimace. Oof .
The girl has a point.
Adrian did keep me in bed for nearly eighteen hours. Then he accompanied me to the grocery store, unloaded all of Betty’s food for us, and still only just managed to leave me on the front porch. Where the whole pack can see me from their gym setup in my open garage.
Every time I glance over at my driveway, I catch at least one of them staring.
And almost always the Boss.
My King.
Oh, will you stop? ! I shout internally. You’re the reason we’re in this crazy mess!
Emma follows my gaze and snorts when she catches Colt paused mid-curl, squinting at us. “Girl, I don’t care what you say about fake engagements. Look at them!”
Jesse goes to walk from one side of the room to the other, stealing what he thinks are sneaky glimpses over at Betty’s porch. Only he misses the free weight Dante just dropped to the ground and trips over it.
A giggle tickles my throat before I can help myself. They are sort of falling all over themselves. And Adrian hasn’t looked away at all .
He’s been on the phone from the moment I sat down, too. He keeps checking something on the screen and barking into it. If he’s not glancing at his cell, his solid gaze remains fixed on me. Unapologetically.
Emma explained that it’s a “pack alpha thing.” Apparently, the first time Knox knotted her, his packmates had to start a snowball fight with their leader to get her out of his greedy clutches.
Of course, in her case, the four alphas were scent-sensitive to her. And fighting to become her bonded mates.
“It’s all just… for show,” I mutter, unsure who I’m reminding—Emma, my Omega. Myself…
Em leans forward, making a big show of craning her neck back and forth. “Yeah, babe, I don’t see any paparazzi here. Just four men who can’t keep their eyes off you. Not to mention their scents —holy night, I can smell them from here!”
I didn’t notice that—considering their essences are all over me—but she’s right once again. Their scents have swelled and drifted over to us.
“They’re working out!” I argue.
Emma glugs the last of her drink and winces. “Yeah, with big boners.”
Outraged, I turn to see if she’s— wow. Completely correct.
All except for Colt, of course. But, then again, he’s sitting on a bench. It’s easy to see the impressive tents at the front of Dante and Jesse’s shorts… and I catch the hard length under the seam of Adrian’s suit easily enough, too.
My Omega snaps to the surface. Growling . She hates the idea of any other omega seeing “her alphas’” goods. Especially Emma.
She’s been insanely jealous of my bestie for over a year. It was one of the main reasons I had to get so ruthless with the voice lodged in my middle.
It wasn’t Emma’s fault that she got everything I secretly dreamed of having. Back before everyone went out of their way to make sure I knew just how insane those hopes were. That it was better not to hope at all and get good at being alone.
I’m the best at that now.
When it’s time for them to move on, I’ll be fine .
Emma senses the way my insides shrivel when my scent sours. She offers a sympathetic frown, reaching for the pitcher Betty left behind when she went in search of more ice.
“Isn’t it possible this could all work out?” she asks, pouring another round. “I know it didn’t start out that way, but maybe it is real after all. Or maybe it could be.”
“It definitely isn’t,” I snap back. But images of the weekend—the good, the bad, and the devastating—swamp my brain.
Colt’s fingers finding mine for a few minutes. The way his gray eyes burned. That day we met… You knew how I felt. And this morning. We want to apologize to you, Bridget. All of us.
Then there was Dante, gripping my chin while I swallowed his delicious flavor. His heaving chest and husky voice. The fanatical joy in his eyes. You’re perfect, querida.
Jesse, so thick and warm inside me. His hands cupping my face while he scent-marked my forehead. Still here. Still with you.
And the pack alpha. Needing me . Rutting me . Knotting me . I’m perfect, because I had the perfect omega.
No. It definitely isn’t real…
But maybe it could be .