7. Lucas
I signed into my BetaFans account at ten o’clock and waited for her to sign in too. But it’s now past eleven, and her account is still untouched and hasn’t been for four days.
I should join the team for celebratory drinks and forget about the girl who’s inflaming something inside me. I’ve never met her in real life, or scented her—what the hell is wrong with me?
I grab my cell and send her a text.
ME: You need to talk to me.
I should walk away. I should let her go to a Heat Hotel. I don’t know why I can’t.
“Why the fuck is she not answering?”
I raise my cell. The urge to fling it against the wall is only beaten by the fact she might reply. But I know I can’t stay here in this hotel room and wait.
I need a strong drink.
After sending a quick message to Stanton to check the team is still drinking in the hotel bar, I grab my wallet and head to where the rest of the team are; the place Stanton promised there’s plenty of pussy.
When I walk into the bar, my teammates erupt with a chorus of cheers and applause that I made it for once.
Girls are everywhere, but nobody turns my head.
Typical of my teammates. Stanton has a blonde on his knee, and Jenson is simulating sex over the pool table at the far end of the room.
After getting a bourbon, I join the rest of the team and slide into a booth next to Colton, who is telling a story of why he abstains from alcohol after he crashed his car, hurting his girlfriend and brother while he walked away from it without a scratch.
Two brunettes walk our way. Smiling from me to Colton and then to my teammates around the table.
“Hey,” the girl on the right says. “Can we join you?”
No!
“Yeah,” Stanton says, smiling at me as he slides along the bench with the girl still hanging around his neck.
How many does he need?
He fucking annoys me so much. Sometimes I hate sharing a room with Stanton when we have away games. Worse still is sharing an apartment with the man. He’s such a fuck boy and likes nothing more than making girls scream.
He tilts his head to one side, a silent way of asking if I’m interested in sharing.
Stanton thinks the two of us are the same and he’s ready to start his pack. But I’m not his pack mate.
I shake my head and turn to Colton. “I’m surprised your girlfriend is still with you,” I say as the girls settle in the seats opposite.
“She’s been okay, but Carver hates me,” Colton responds, looking over at his brother, who is playing a game of pool with Jetson.
“Never noticed. You live together, don’t you?”
“He keeps it under wraps when we’re in company.” Colton nods. “I get it. He nearly lost his hockey career because of me.” His voice drops. I know Colton feels bad about what happened.
“You’ve got a girlfriend?” one girl opposite asks Colton, interrupting him. “Is she an omega?”
“Why does it matter?” I ask.
She tilts her head to one side as she stares at Colton. “Because he doesn’t look happy.”
“What the fuck?” Colton says. “She’s an alpha and I love her. If you’ve sat here because you think you have a chance with me, then leave now. I don’t cheat.”
The quieter girl shakes her head, a small smile on her face as she turns to me and says, “I’m here for you.”
I shake my head. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not interested in puck bunnies,” I say, picking up my bourbon and taking a sip.
“Are you gay?” she replies, flicking her hair, her fingers sliding a stray tendril over her ear.
“No. Just not interested in casual hook-ups.”
She smiles. “It doesn’t have to be casual.”
I lean forward as I look at her. She’s nice looking and gazing back at me while she waits for my answer. She’s cute enough. A beta, no doubt. Good enough to fuck, but nothing more.
Can I? Just one night. Get all my frustrations out and forget about Scarlett forever. I can’t. “Sorry, not interested.”
“I’m an omega on suppressants,” she pushes. Her lips turn up into a smile. “Just waiting for the right alpha.”
I narrow my eyes and inhale slightly as I stare at her teeth grazing over her bottom lip.
She’s having you over.
There’s no way she’s an omega.
You thought Scarlett was a beta.
“Don’t fucking lie,” Colton says, surprising the heck out of me. “I know an omega when I smell one. And you smell very much like a beta.”
“How would you know if your girlfriend is an alpha?” Stanton asks as he runs his hands over the arms of the girl still sitting on his lap.
The girls admit Colton is telling the truth when they scurry out of the booth and make a beeline to another table.
“But her sister just revealed as an omega and believe me, you can’t mistake an omega’s scent to a beta’s fake perfume,” Colton says. “I know, because Grace smells like nothing else.”
“You might be her scent match,” I reply.
He laughs and shakes his head. “She hates my smell. Told me to shower because I was making her sick.”
Omegas are approximately seven percent of the population but lower in New York, and the number goes down every few years. Alphas are around ten percent mark, but higher in New York. The remainder is the beta population. And a lot of the beta population spray themselves with omega perfume, but that only fools other betas, never alphas. Alphas know the difference between manufactured scents and the authentic smell of an omega. But like betas, omegas try to mask their scents with beta perfumes.
And that’s when it gets tricky.
“And how does she feel about being an omega?” I ask Colton.
He shakes his head. “I don’t know. She’s getting on with her life as if she’s still a beta.”
“And how do you feel?” Stanton chuckles. “Are you wanting to fuck your girlfriend’s sister? Make her take your knot.”
“Don’t fucking go there,” Colton hisses as his brother, Carver, sits opposite. He stares at Colton for a moment before he laughs and repeats the story of when Grace was holding her stomach, about to puke because Colton’s scent was ‘off.’
I check the app on my cell one last time, but Scarlett still isn’t on there. I scroll through my contacts and stare at her name for a moment.
Still nothing.
I could send her another message, but what’s the point?
Xander slips into the booth next to Carver. He has a massive grin on his face. “Would you pay a thousand bucks to watch an omega fucking herself?” He waits.
“I’ve paid more than that before on OmegaFans,” Stanton replies.
“This omega is going into her heat and she’s filming herself on OmegaFans tomorrow night. No alphas, just her and her sex toys before her heat gets too far. Then she’s going into a heat hotel.”
A shiver runs down my back, but I try to look unaffected. “What’s her name?”
“She calls herself Ginger.”
It’s her. I know it’s her. But I need to act casual and say, “She’ll be on OmegaFans tomorrow night. Do you have a link?”
While he takes out his cell and taps on the OmegaFans app, I do the same and wait until he Airdrops me the link to her account. Once he does, I press my fingers over the keyboard of my cell and wait for her details to appear on the screen.
They don’t.
Xander narrows his eyes as he stares at my cell and shows me his. Despite the mask covering half of her face, I recognize her. “That’s strange.”
“Isn’t it?” Nothing is coming up for her name on the OmegaFans app, which can only mean one thing.
She’s blocked me.
She fucking blocked my number.
“I’m going,” I say, knocking back my drink and pushing out of the booth.
“Have another drink, Lucas,” Stanton calls as I walk away.
“I don’t want to be hungover for the flight in the morning.”
I ignore the groans of my teammates as I stroll to the elevator. My heart is beating totally irrationally.
I hardly know her, and I should ignore what she is planning. But there’s no way Ginger isn’t Scarlett or whatever the heck she is really called, because I’m not sure any longer.
I scan through my contacts and when I see her name; I type out a message. I shouldn’t be bothered by what she is planning, but I am. I just don’t know why as I press send.
Me: I’ll pay you fifty thousand dollars. But it will only be me and you. No cameras. No other alphas and no heat hotel.