Chapter 49
chapter
forty-nine
*The Dumbest Assholes Alive*
Jonah
everyone better be extra fucking sweet to my omega today
Spencer
Why? Is she sick? Did you hurt her?
I told Tristan it was too much for you to spend the night with her.
She was probably sore, and I doubt you held back.
Jonah
Fuck off, she’s PERFECT.
I cleaned her up and fed her another dinner before we went back to sleep.
But I had to leave her in bed to go to practice.
So you all better step up your cuddle game QUICK
Avery
say less
didn’t get to kiss her all night
some other motherfuckers have been hogging her.
Spencer
I can see to her, Avery. I don’t have class today.
Jonah
Ave, it’s *morning* what the fuck are you doing up?
And, Spence, did you SKIP A CLASS?
Avery
I don’t know what you’re talking about.
I love mornings.
Spencer
I canceled a class.
I did not skip it.
There’s a difference.
Jonah
Are we all just pretending we’re not complete and total simps now?
Avery
yep.
Spencer
Yes.
Tristan
The motion carries.
“Good morning.”
Spencer sits in the sunken living room of the townhouse with his ankle casually crossed over his knee. He turns the page of his newspaper and glances at me over the top of his reading glasses.
As if this is completely normal .
Like I didn’t get railed while they all watched last night. And he isn’t missing work.
“You aren’t in class,” I say, feeling dumb.
His mouth pinches. I can’t tell if he’s holding back a scowl or a smile. “No, I’m not.”
On the couch perpendicular to Spencer’s, a black blob suddenly moves. I bite back a scream when I see that it’s just Avery, fighting his way out of a blanket. Naked, aside from his boxer briefs. And, apparently, awake?
Well, sort of. He’s downstairs, anyway.
Avery is definitely scowling. But he opens his arms and makes a grabbing motion with his hands. “Get your ass over here, kitten. Before I strangle someone for fun.”
Spencer turns another page. Lord, he’s a fast reader. “Avery.”
My inked alpha rolls his gorgeous eyes. “Sorry, sorry,” he mutters. “But it’s eight a.m . This is disgusting.”
Chuckling, I shuffle over to him and try to sit beside his hip. He isn ’t having it, though. Two seconds later, I’m lying on top of him.
“Mm,” he mumbles, sleepy. “That’s better.”
I shake my head, smiling. When I glance over at Spencer, I find him staring back, his eyes as intense as ever. “You’re feeling well?” he asks, brow folding.
He’s worried they permanently broke my brain .
I nod, feeling shy. “I’m okay.”
His mouth almost ghosts up. “Good. I hope Jonah let you get some sleep. Because we have to be at the dean’s office in an hour and a half.”
I try to jerk upright, but Avery snarls softly and pets my head while pushing it back down to his chest.
“Dean?” I croak. “Of… your college? For what?”
He snaps his paper. “It’s a university, not a college. And we’re meeting with the dean so I can call in some favors and get you enrolled.”
I’m stunned speechless, my mouth hanging open. Avery sees it through the one eyelid he has cracked and smirks, reaching up to close my jaw.
“You said that was the worst part,” Spencer explains, his dark eyes roiling when they land back on mine. “Not being able to go to school. Now, you can take any classes you’d like. Although, I do have some suggestions, of course.”
My mind reels, but Avery snickers. “Whatever he says, don’t take any of his classes. He’s a dick.”
I’m still not sure I believe what’s happening, but I mumble back, “It’s probably not a good idea, anyway. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”
A flare lights Spencer’s dark eyes. He arches a brow. “I can’t imagine why not, Miss Swanson.”
I wear the little black dress Spencer set out for the game yesterday. It’s posh and pretty, with a rounded white collar and the matching bow headband.
The Professor might prefer this preppy look, but I’ve decided I like to mix things up when it comes to my clothes. For better or worse, sexy stuff is what I’m comfortable in, and I walk better in heels than I do wedges or sandals.
I worry Spencer may not approve of the short, pleated skirt for school, but his gaze radiates approval when I rush out of my room—until he sees the platform-heeled Mary Janes strapped to my feet. Then I get a flash of white-hot electricity.
His scent swells as his eyes trace my legs, but he simply offers me a gentlemanly elbow. “Shall we?”
Even with a noticeable bulge in his tweed trousers, his proper courtesies never waver. He opens my car door for me in our garage, and again after we glide into a special reserved parking spot that literally has his name on it. The second the Volvo door locks, he has my arm wound through his again.
He gives a steady lecture on the university’s history and its reputation as we turn for a winding brick walkway. Without missing a beat, he ushers me between two ivy-covered buildings and nods at various places as he gives brief run-downs of each.
My heart flutters while I gaze up at his sharp profile, only absorbing his words half as much as I soak in the feeling his tour gives me. On his arm, for all to see, his approval and respect feel like a cloak around my shoulders.
And, for once, I’m not just a slut. Or a hot piece of ass. Or even a precious omega in need of protection.
Right now? With Spencer? I feel like a lady .
His lady.
The most particular alpha in the universe picked me . And he’s squiring me around his workplace like I’m a duchess.
When I cuddle closer into his side, he reaches over to grasp the hand wound around his forearm. The soft curve of his mouth is the on ly hint I get that he’s pleased, aside from a fierce flex of alpha approval.
I love that it’s just for me.
No one else would ever know.
Is this how he feels when I tell him I like him?
We finally reach a big building with stone pillars and carved archways. He stops in front of it, turning me to face him.
“Now, then.” I expect him to inspect me for lint or maybe fuss over my hair, but instead, he cups my face between his long-fingered hands. Stepping up against my body, he only pauses for one small second when he feels my hands slide under his blazer. I carefully smooth my touch down his sides, moving slow enough for him to stop me at any moment.
A silent breath quivers out of him, ruffling my bangs. “We have an appointment,” he husks, but it isn’t one of his usual chastisements. More a lament.
I lean my head back to tease him with a smirk. “Oh, you didn’t want to make out in front of the dean’s office?”
Another wave of pride washes over me, along with an undeniable flare of affection. To my delight, he plays along, raising both silver-blond brows. “No, actually. I wanted to do this.”
My pulse skips as he bends over and nuzzles his cheek against mine. The motion is deliberate and careful, his eyes guarded as he switches to rub the other cheek.
Butterflies swarm my stomach.
He’s scent-marking me .
Here. On campus. Right before we meet with his boss.
My eyes feel wet as he pulls back and studies me. Softer electricity snaps through his dark gaze. Seeing me, understanding me.
And still wanting me .
In spite of my scent and my past and all the alpha-omega dynamics he dislikes, Spencer wants me.
One of his thumbs catches a teardrop just before it smears my makeup. His lips curve fondly as he re-tucks my hand into the crook of his elbow. “Come along, darling.”