Chapter 44
chapter
forty-four
I want you to know , I think at the voice in my middle, hiking my school bag up higher on my shoulder. If they made gags for Omegas, I would have slapped one in your mouth months ago .
Her reply isn’t really verbal. More of a pained, sobbing shriek. I sigh. My shoulders slump in exhaustion.
Turns out, fighting with yourself is a lot more exhausting than arguing with other people. With my heat a little less than three weeks away, my Omega cries to me all day long. Asking if the alphas can come into our nest and stay forever …
My sandals shuffle against the craggy parking lot, carrying me to the shining beacon of my little yellow car.
I wish I could say driving it has been the one bright spot in a dismal week.
It should be, given everything that went down at the stadium a couple weeks ago and the fact that the tabloids are still reporting on it.
But that isn’t true. Because, the guys have been different.
Sweeter than ever .
I ruthlessly tamp down my Omega’s hiccupped comment, ignoring the fact that she has a point. The guys have been sweeter than ever.
Since his rut, Adrian’s decided that I’ll eat every meal in his lap. He instantly places me there the second I walk into any room and insists on feeding me bite after bite, until he’s satisfied I’ve eaten enough. Then he makes sure I have dessert.
Jesse carries me to our brand-new oversized bed every night, even when it isn’t his turn to sleep next to me. Our pitcher is the cuddliest of the alphas. With the shortstop being a surprisingly close second…
In addition to smothering me to sleep, Dante makes me lunch every day. Midnight snacks most nights. And sends the absolute dirtiest text messages known to man. Yesterday, I got a bulge selfie—in his uniform pants—that was so obscene, I nearly passed out in the teachers’ lounge.
And Colt. Where I used to find him scowling on my sofa at the end of every day, now he’s there waiting for me.
Flashing his quick grin when I bustle in the door.
Offering me snacks he’s assembled and a warm, wood-and-sea-salt-scented place under his arm.
Not to mention how he demands to hear every mundane detail of my day.
The message from each of them is clear:
They can’t undo the last year.
But they can damn sure try .
And maybe…
Maybe I should let them.
Sweat trickles down my back as I huff toward my car. Florida’s seasonal swelter started this week, with temperatures climbing daily. It’s typical for this time of year, but it also signals the end of spring.
Which means my heat is coming.
And the guys’ season will start in a couple weeks.
What if they leave and never come back?
The thought is painful . Not just because my Omega thrashes around like a banshee every time it crosses my mind.
Fuck .
I think I might be starting to fall for this pack. For real .
Could I actually be their omega? They seem to truly want me, despite the fact that we’re not scent-sensitive. Is that really so impossible?
What if they don’t have a mate after all, like me? What if this is as close as any of us gets? Over time, maybe the world will forget about the whole ? —
The soles of my shoes scrape to a halt against the blacktop. My lashes flutter, disbelief and confusion spiraling into my gut. Sinking deep. Detonating into mushroom clouds of dread and dismay.
My insides heave and twist, ears whistling. The world slows to a stop.
Fresh red spray paint stands out against my car’s glossy sunshine yellow. Two words.
FAKE FIANCEE.
And I’m honestly not sure which is worse—the fact that it’s there. Or the fact that it’s accurate.
I didn’t want to call Adrian, but what choice was there?
Get in my car and drive home like that? Undo the effort we’ve put into convincing the world I’m really theirs?
God, maybe that would be smart at this point. Just rip out the stitches. Expose the wound. Finally accept the shame I’ve been trying to avoid all this time. Find out once and for all whether the way the guys treat me is genuine or just an ongoing attempt to save their reputations.
And if it is…
Alicia would be pissed, but so what? I won’t get invited to Christmas or Thanksgiving? Emma’s pack will probably still associate with me, assuming they aren’t too angry about being bamboozled…
Hell, I’ll always have Betty.
“Bridget?”
It’s Jesse. I blink and see his face—the golden hair, handsome features, tanned cheeks. He’s frowning, but I can’t understand why he’s here.
I called Adrian before I sat on this bench, right? Or did I try Colt first? He isn’t working, so that would have made sense, I guess. But he can’t drive, so.
Jesse gets knocked aside before I can figure it all out. Dante appears where his packmate was, leaning into my personal space without a speck of the pitcher’s hesitation.
The gleaming, dark eyes I love so much look like burning coals. “ Querida ?”
I can’t make my face move. It’s frozen, or something. My lungs seem just as stuck. I’m unable to take a deep breath or eke out any words. My Omega is deathly still and silent, too. No whines or whimpers.
Did I finally do it? Did she finally give up?
Why does that make me want to cry?
I ignore the prickle pinching the bridge of my nose and the sting behind my eyes. A hand lands on my shoulder. I recognize Colt’s fingers from recent afternoons spent with his arm curled around me. His gruff tone is also a giveaway.
“Bridget? Can you hear us?”
I think my eyelids flutter, but everything inside me is just… gone.
So is my purse, I realize distantly. And the messenger bag full of papers I needed to grade. I must have dropped them in the parking lot, because a tall, built figure cuts across the pavement, holding my stuff under one of his suit-clad arms.
Adrian .
He drops my bags to the opposite end of the bench and unleashes a wave of alpha power potent enough to knock the others aside. With deliberate movements, he comes to stand in front of me.
And goes to his knees.
Two big hands engulf my cool cheeks. Wet , I think, dazed. My face is wet .
“Bridget,” Adrian husks, low and soft. “ Look at me , baby.”
My Omega must not be totally MIA, because his quiet bark still registers. I lurch my bleary eyes to his, absorbing the intensity seething in those Adriatic-blue pools.
“ Breathe ,” he whispers, still dripping command. One of his hands finds mine, bringing my limp fingers to the lapel of his blazer. Pressing them over his heart.
I feel his steady heartbeat, his chest expanding under my touch, and try to match it. Oxygen spirals into my lungs.
The strange buzz dulling my senses snaps back like a rubber band. School dismissal roars to life around me. Doors slamming, kids whooping, cars peeling out of the lot.
The packs’ scents hit next—caramelized kettle corn, juicy mango, a salty afternoon by the sea, warm leather and musk. My nerves spark and pulse.
Before I can worry about what I must smell like, Adrian nods. A steady beat of alpha approval warms my insides. “Just like that. Such a good girl for me.”
I keep breathing, wishing I could hold them in my lungs. Rumbled rattles caress my ears. My muscles loosen. I start to sway forward, but Adrian is there.
Catching me.
“Sweet baby girl,” he murmurs, huddling closer. His eyes drop closed for a long moment, true relief falling across his gorgeous face. “Thank you for calling me. That was the exact right thing to do, omega.”
A whine finally breaks loose, my Omega jonesing for more of his praise. Adrian responds without skipping a beat, sliding his arm around my waist and folding me into his broad strength.
“I’m going to take care of it,” he vows, solid and sure, with an edge of anger lethal enough to send a shiver down my back. “Do you have any idea who would have done this?”
I’d bet all my money on Linus. He smirked at me through our entire class today, and I stupidly thought he was just being his oh-so-charming, smarmy self.
I also heard some metal cans rattling in his backpack when he left study hall, but I figured he was smuggling beer or something dumb like that.
I didn’t want to report him and have his locker searched, so I let it go.
Idiotic .
I should have known .
But now that I do, I still find myself hesitating.
I might loathe the kid, but playing on our school’s sports teams is his whole life.
His whole future . If I make a big deal about this, he could be booted from the athletic program.
Not to mention, the last time I spoke to our principal about his behavior, I got scolded.
When I bite my lower lip instead of replying, Colt growls, “Fucking Linus .”
I turn and gape at him; partially because I’m pissed he outed me, but mostly because I can’t believe he’s been listening to my stories. And closely enough to know exactly who would do this.
Adrian doesn’t look away. His gaze smolders as one thick brow arches. “Linus?”
With a sigh, I mumble through some details, shame burning my cheeks. I leave out a lot of the petty things my student has done, not wanting Adrian to get overly upset, but Colt surprises me again, interjecting to stick up for me every time I purposefully omit snippets of information.
By the time we’re done, even I have to admit… Yikes .
Adrian’s jaw works for a long moment, absorbing the look on my face. He finally stands, brushing at his navy suit jacket before buttoning it. “I need a word with the principal. Jesse? Why don’t you see if you can track down Linus’s coach? I’d like to speak to him, too.”
Jesse looks at their leader, then down at me. “I need to stay with Bridget.”
Need ?
Adrian takes his insistent growl in stride, nodding. “Alright. Dante? Colt? You find the coach.”
They both agree. Adrian pauses just long enough to sift my hair back and place a kiss on my forehead before stalking into the school.
Dante grabs Colt’s collar, practically dragging him toward the baseball diamond in the distance, behind the car lot. If the energy rolling off him is any indication…
I quiver as I turn to Jesse. “They won’t h-hurt anyone, right?”
My blond alpha’s face crumples in consternation. With an ease that leaves me breathless, he scoops me into his arms and shakes his head. “No, bumblebee. They wouldn’t embarrass you like that.”
Ignoring the looks we get while he stands beside the parking lot, holding me, Jesse presses his forehead into mine, frowning deeper. “You’re shaking. What can I do?”
I don’t know. This aimless emptiness inside me is unfamiliar. I’m not used to being the kind of person who can’t figure out a solution.
But these feelings ? They don’t have an off switch or a resolution.
I stare into Jesse’s soft green eyes. They’re so full of compassion and warmth. Worry—and true, hopeful eagerness . He wants me to tell him what I need. He wants to give it to me.
Like the day in the locker room.
Or last week on the back porch…
Tears fill my eyes and spill over. Jesse’s chest rumbles on a purr. Determination darts across his features. “Come on,” he says. “I know where we need to go.”