Chapter 3
FOSTER
It’s almost like the Olympic Committee doesn’t want omegas to succeed.
And this one’s lack of self-preservation skills has her failing their test with flying colors.
Not that she has anything to worry about from me.
I’m a professional, and I’d never hurt her or take advantage of her.
I hate having people assume I would just because I’m an alpha.
But even I have to admit this is inviting trouble.
The apartment they put Raven in is a single bedroom with bunk beds. I almost laugh. There’s no privacy, and the place is stark. Not at all omega-friendly.
White walls, white counters, bright white lighting—the exact opposite of what omegas like. In my experience, anyway. Under the white bedding, lies a thin mattress, the vinyl cover crinkly and militaristic. I’m not sure even a beta would be comfortable here.
I can still hear her coach’s voice booming in the living room, trying to argue with whoever she’s on the phone with that this is a bad idea.
That I’m a bad idea. As much as I agree it’s conceptually unwise to house an alpha with a vulnerable omega, I’m glad I won’t be far from the client on this job.
As soon as we left the press conference, crowds of people pushed toward us.
Some held signs protesting omega participation in the Olympics, while just as many were screaming their support.
All of it coalesced into an overwhelming amount of noise, and Raven’s body had tensed immediately.
My mind went into overdrive, scanning the crowd for threats, my alpha riding me hard.
And once we were through security, three alphas stopped Raven on the way into the building, all of them leering at her with thinly veiled innuendos, and one going so far as to say she doesn’t deserve to be here but would look great laid out on his bed.
That one nearly made me growl. She took it in stride, completely ignoring them, but I could tell it got to her.
There’s a lot of focus on her in the media right now, and whenever that happens, dangerous people start paying attention.
It’s best that I’m close.
“Do you want the top bunk or the bottom?” I ask.
She shrugs, shifting from one foot to the other and pulling the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her hands. “Doesn’t matter.”
I wish I could scent her to be sure, but it’s pretty clear she’s uncomfortable with this arrangement.
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” I say. “I just want to know where you’ll be.” Purely for professional reasons.
“Oh.” She glances at me before glancing away. “You don’t have to do that. It doesn’t look like a very comfortable couch, and there’s no way you’d fit. You’re massive. You’ll get a crick in your neck, and then I’ll feel horrible. It’s really—”
“Omega.”
She looks at me with big eyes and bites her plump bottom lip. “Hmm?”
“You’re my client. The most important thing is your comfort. Not mine.”
She rubs her toe on the floor, watching the movement for a moment before slowly returning her gaze to mine.
“Honestly, I’d be uncomfortable knowing you were squished out there.
I’m not crazy about this,” she waves at the bunk beds, “but it’s fine.
I’ve bunked with teammates before. It’ll be just like that. ”
Right. Teammates. Good way to think about it. “If you change your mind at any time, you can tell me.”
She nods and drops her bag on the bottom bed.
It would be easier to protect her if she slept on the top bunk. But I leave it be and fling my small duffel bag up. I resist the urge to grimace when I see how close it is to the ceiling. I’m gonna look like an oversized sardine stuffed into a tin can up there.
Regardless, it’s late, and I’m still jetlagged, so I’m hoping we can have a quiet night and get to bed soon. They sent me Raven’s schedule, but of course it didn’t include how she wants to spend her free time. If she wants to go out, I’ll have to go with her.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask.
“The plan?”
“Are you going out? Staying in? Have dinner arrangements?”
“Are you asking me to dinner?” There’s just a touch of coyness in her voice that, surprisingly, makes my cheeks warm.
“It’s my job to stay with you and keep you safe.”
“Ugh.” She plops down on the bed. “Do you know how frustrating that is? I mean, I don’t have a babysitter at home. Why do I need one here?”
“You’re a public figure now.” I lean against the wall across from her. “And an omega.”
“Right.” She sighs. “Well, I’m kind of exhausted and would really love to just watch—”
“Alright, they’re not budging.” Ana Dubinsky comes barging into the bedroom already mid-sentence. She ignores me, looking Raven up and down. “Why aren’t you dressed?”
Raven looks at herself. She’s in soft black leggings and a slim fit Team USA quarter-zip that all but clings to her trim figure. She looks great. But Ana doesn’t seem to think so.
“We’re leaving the village for dinner. Everyone wants to see you out and about in Milan, enjoying the sights.”
“Can’t we do that tomorrow? I’m kind of…” She trails off when Ana narrows her eyes and puts her hands on her hips. Raven’s posture deflates. “What should I change into?”
“Wear a dress.”
I almost speak up because it’s freezing outside right now and she definitely shouldn’t be walking around with bare legs.
She’ll catch a cold, and for some reason that thought irritates the hell out of me.
But I keep my mouth shut. What she wears or doesn’t wear isn’t any of my business.
It shouldn’t be Ana Dubinsky’s business either.
“Okay, give me five minutes,” Raven says, dropping her head.
Ana gives me a pointed look, the kind that just withered Raven, but I cross my arms and stare back.
I don’t like the way she talks to Raven or the way the little omega buckles under her alpha coach’s admonishments.
I have the sudden urge to take care of her and protect her from more than just external threats.
I want to bundle her up in warm blankets with a mug of hot cocoa and let her enjoy whatever chick flick she was probably about to say she wanted to watch before Ana burst in here.
My urge to take care of omegas is always present, but it feels especially strong with Raven.
Probably because I can already tell she doesn’t seem to take care of herself.
“There’s no reason Raven has to go out tonight,” I say before I think better of it. “In fact, it’d be safer for her to stay here until some of the fanfare dies down.”
“The fanfare is exactly why we need to go out,” Ana argues.
“It’s okay. Really, it’s fine.” Raven holds up her hands, palms out, like she’s trying to break up a fight even though Ana’s and my disagreement is pretty tame.
I glare at her, but she won’t meet my eye.
“Five minutes,” Ana says before walking out of the room.
“Why do you let her boss you around like that?” I ask, genuinely curious about the relationship between Raven and her coach.
She chuckles. “Well, technically she’s my boss, right?
” At my less-than-enthusiastic stare, Raven continues with a deep sigh.
“She’s just looking out for my best interests.
My publicist is looking for some new sponsors, so it makes sense to feed the fire, so to speak.
” While she talks, she digs into her suitcase and pulls out a simple navy dress, then turns to face me. “Um, can you…?”
“Oh, right, sorry. I’ll be…” I wave a hand at the door before leaving the room.
I don’t go into the small combined living room and kitchen where I can hear Ana and Harriett talking. Instead, I stay in the hall and lean against the door, thinking about the pretty little omega on the other side.