Chapter Nineteen – Kayla
I unpack the dress clothes Bradford bought me, and I take my time while doing it.
The bedroom has a walk-in closet, something I’m totally not used to, but I won’t say no to the extra space.
I don’t know how long I’m going to be here in this house, but the spaciousness of it all is definitely something I could get used to.
No tripping over each other when you move.
No breathing in each other’s air. No smelling anything foul when the other person has to use the shared bathroom.
When you think about it, there are a lot of pluses to having a house this big.
Of course, you have to have the money to afford something this huge, but even if it’s just a taste for the weekend, I’ll take it.
When Bradford comes to me and tells me that Hayden is back, I’m all unpacked for now.
Don’t really see the point, but whatever.
It got the bags off the floor, at least. I go with him downstairs, just in time to see Hayden lugging in a few bags through the front door.
The vestibule is full of stuff—bags from multiple different stores of all sizes.
Hmm. I have the feeling he got a lot more than was on my list. There is no way the simple things on my list could take up this many bags.
“I said I’d help after we eat,” Bradford remarks, folding his hands over his chest as he studies the other man.
Hayden sends a grin our way, dimples and all, and I immediately feel butterflies in my stomach.
Oh, boy. This is going to be a long weekend.
“And I said I got it. This was the last trip anyway.” He drops his current load of bags and goes to shut the front door, locking it behind him, and then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a credit card.
“Don’t worry. It got quite the workout this afternoon. ”
“Hmm.” The über grunts as he takes the card from Hayden, though he’s careful to not brush his fingers against his.
To me, Hayden says, “Did he tell you? I got us pizza. Let’s eat. I’m starving. Driving all the way back here, smelling it, was pure torture.” His smile doesn’t waver, and neither do the butterflies in my stomach.
The pizza must have been the first thing he brought inside; it’s sitting on the kitchen island, waiting for us. Three boxes, stacked on top of each other, and I have to admit, it does smell good.
Bradford grabs some plates from one of the upper cabinets and sets them near the boxes, while Hayden tells me, “I didn’t know what kind of topping you like on your pizza, so I got one with just cheese, one pepperoni, and one with a little bit of everything on it.”
I check the top pizza box right as my stomach growls and reminds me that I haven’t eaten anything since that delicious donut.
Fortunately enough, the top one is cheese.
I’m a cheese-only kind of girl. Anything else on my pizza is just extra calories I don’t need.
Plus, they always seem to burn the toppings more, and I don’t like tasting the char with every bite.
Or maybe that’s just me being picky.
I take a single slice out of the box, the smallest one I see, and as I do so, I find both men staring at me. “What?” I ask as I set the slice on the top plate and take it off the stack.
“You need to eat more than one slice,” Hayden says, and near him, the über agrees.
“He’s right. At least two.”
I want to roll my eyes and groan at these two, but…
if I’m honest, the pizza does look and smell delicious.
Maybe a second piece won’t push me over the edge.
I am starving. I could probably eat three, but I don’t want to push things too much.
Going overboard before a long weekend here is probably not the best idea.
I pick up a second slice and set it next to the first piece on my plate. “There, happy?”
Hayden’s wide grin is his answer, along with the words, “As long as I see you eat both pieces, yeah, I’ll be happy.” He goes for the second box once I’m out of the way, taking three slices of the pepperoni for himself, and unlike me, he doesn’t care about the size of said pieces.
Bradford goes to the fridge, where a case of something sits just beside it on the counter, something I didn’t notice before now: a case of pop. He opens the packaging and pulls out three cans—one for each of us, I assume.
When that can is set in front of me on the island, I swallow hard. Full-calorie pop. I saw Jeremy drink that stuff all the time, but he never let me have so much as a sip, nor did he ever get me the zero-calorie option. It was just water for me for so long because it was the cheapest.
Kind of cruel now that I’m thinking about it. He could spend some of our hard-earned money on himself but not on me. That’s just the kind of person my brother is.
“I don’t know if I can drink that,” I say softly, slow in glancing over at Bradford, who hasn’t gone for any pizza himself yet. The über stares straight back at me, as if he was anticipating a fight about the drink.
“Have a couple sips, at least,” he says. “Then I can get you water.”
Hmm. I don’t see winning a verbal argument with him over this. It can’t possibly make my head spin the way the donut did this morning, can it? Seeing as how I have nothing to compare it to, I’m going to find out shortly.
The three of us sit at the island and eat.
Me, then Hayden, then Bradford. Both men keep glancing at me, as if to make sure I’m eating and drinking and not pretending—and I’m not.
The pizza is to die for, even if it isn’t as warm as I’d like.
And the pop? I think it’d taste better chilled from the refrigerator, but oh, damn, is it good. I can’t even describe it.
It’s like I’ve been deprived for so long, my body is instantly buzzing.
I demolish both pieces of pizza and the entire can of pop. Going for a third piece would be way too much; with every movement I make, I can feel all that food and the liquid in me sloshing around. I am full to the brim.
But damn, was it good. So good my throat didn’t even ache while I ate.
Hayden is much slower in eating, probably due to the fact he’s too busy watching me make a fool of myself. His blue gaze twinkles as he remarks, “That good, huh? Guess we know you love pizza.”
“I’ve had pizza before,” I say, “but two slices was always splurging.”
Bradford pushes the boxes around Hayden as he says, “Go for a third.”
“Oh, no.” I shake my head. “I can’t. I’m already going to be feeling it.” Hopefully I didn’t eat and drink so much that I’ll make myself sick, but right now, I’m still flying high from the taste of it, so I don’t really care.
“Kayla,” Hayden says my name in a bare whisper, “you shouldn’t have to starve yourself to get by. You and whoever did that to you should know that. Being an omega isn’t anything to be ashamed of.”
I hold my hands in my lap, fiddling with them under the pressure of their gazes. “It is when you’re a nobody. Neither of you could ever understand what it’s like. You’re better off a beta than an omega when you’re a nobody.”
“You’re not a nobody,” Hayden tries to say, but I shake my head.
“I am. It’s one thing to be from a founding family—” Like Bradford.
“—and another thing to be from a normal, middle-class family.” Like I assume Hayden is from.
“Neither of you get it. No one would miss me if something were to happen to me. My disappearance wouldn’t make the evening news.
Omegas like me are forgotten about. That’s just how it is. ”
I’m not fishing for compliments or sympathy.
It’s something I faced years ago, something I’ve come to accept as fact.
Nothing either of them says right now will change my mind, because I’ve been on the streets, so I know what it’s like.
Hayden and Bradford are from different worlds. It’s just how it is.
Thankfully, they seem to drop it.
After dinner, we bring the mountain of bags Hayden left in the front vestibule to my temporary room upstairs, and Hayden takes it upon himself to go through them one by one, showing off what he bought for me using Bradford’s card.
He sits cross-legged in the middle of the explosion of bags, while I sit on the edge of the bed, watching.
Bradford stands near the foot of the bed, his arms folded.
“I didn’t know what kind of scent you like when it comes to soap and stuff,” Hayden is busy saying as he digs in one of the bags, “so I got a few different ones, just in case.” He pulls out multiple different shampoo bottles of a few different brands, all with their own unique scents.
Vanilla. Berries. Lavender.
Honestly? I’ll use anything. I’m not picky. I can’t afford to be.
“Oh,” he goes on as he drops the shampoo bottles and reaches for another bag. “And I got you some towels. I didn’t know the whole towel situation here, so I figured best be safe and get some.” He pulls out a neatly-folded towel and tosses it over to me. “Touch it. Isn’t it soft?”
The towel lands on my lap, and I run my hand over it. Yes, it’s a nice towel, I’ll give him that. It’s not rough or hard or scratchy like the super cheap ones tend to be.
Bradford scoffs under his breath, “I have towels. You’re acting like this house is empty—”
Hayden holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I haven’t snooped through all your stuff yet, so I didn’t know. I just figured I’d get her some in case, you know, all your towels are old and nasty.”
“I don’t live in a dump. Nothing in this house is nasty.” The über almost sounds insulted at that, which is kind of funny. I hide my smile behind the towel as I re-fold it, but the guys are too busy to see it.
“Again, just because you live in a big, fancy house doesn’t mean everything inside it is as amazing as you think it is. Pretty sure I saw some big-ass empty rooms down the hall. Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t think any other houses on this street have empty rooms like that.”
With a frown, Bradford asks, “What’s the point of having them all fully-furnished if no one is using them?”