Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
I never sleep well in a new location. Vacations are a special kind of hell for me, because it takes me three days to adjust to sleeping somewhere new, and then the vacation is over, and I have run myself ragged for a week.
Which is probably what’s going to happen here.
I shared a bed with Derrick last night, hoping his familiar presence would help me sleep, but it didn’t. He tossed and turned all night, making my night even worse than I anticipated. I can only hope Ivan and Ariana got some good sleep, otherwise we may end up at each other’s throats today.
The television pings, switching to a live video stream. Bradley’s face fills the screen, his almost too-white teeth flashing.
“Grant! Good morning! Where are the others?”
I glance at the clock on the top of the stove. “Uh. Sleeping? It’s not even seven yet.”
“Yes, well, the early bird catches the worm! Or, should I say, the early Beta?”
Why are the jokes TV hosts tell so bad? Do people respond positively to them? I can’t imagine they do. I don’t think anyone is going on social media gushing about how funny Bradley is. Unfortunately, I have to smile and chuckle like he’s the most clever man in the world.
“There is a delivery outside the door. Since you’re the only one here, you can decide how to use it. Enjoy!”
His image fades as fast as it came.
I knew they’d bring us things throughout our stay here, but I wasn’t expecting it at ass-o’clock in the morning. The door swings open easily, revealing a large, brown box. It’s surprisingly heavy as I tote it inside and drop it on the table.
Part of me feels like I should wake everyone before I open it, but Bradley said I get to decide how we use it. Do I want to give up that opportunity?
No way.
I pull open the flaps and peek inside.
Spa supplies. Bath bombs and salts, massage oils, hair and face masks, and four fluffy white robes. On top of all of it is a small note from production.
READ THIS OUT LOUD:
“Good morning, Pack Sax and Onion!
Today, we challenge you to relax. Yesterday was stressful for you all, so we thought you deserved a break.
Take some time to breathe and get to know one another.
If you complete this task and use all of the supplies offered to you, you’ll recieve a reward this evening. And trust us - you want this one.
There is a pack suite in the back of the apartment. I think you’ll find the bed is perfectly sized for four.
Have a relaxing and restorative day!
Bradley and Bridgette”
DO NOT READ OUT LOUD:
There are no cameras in the bathroom, so try to limit your time in that room. All pack members who enter the bathroom must give an interview about what happened, per our off-camera rules.
A spa day? We have to convince Ariana to have a spa day with us?
No. No way.
That seems almost insensitive of the production crew to ask of us. I will look like nothing but a creep if I ask her to let me rub her down with this oil right now.
Unless…
Would she want to watch me massage Derrick or Ivan? Because I could do that. I do that all the time.
No. No. That’s no better.
Is this what Bradley meant, that I get to decide? I could hide this from everyone and not give them the choice. Or I could suggest it, and we can decide as a group whether to make use of this stuff.
And how we would do that.
The door to Ariana’s room opens before I can make up my mind, so I panic and shove the letter in the pocket of my joggers.
She seems surprised to see me here. Her brown hair is sleep-rumpled and sticking up around her face, and she’s wearing a cute pair of round, black glasses.
I didn’t know she wore glasses. Did Derrick know that? They used to video call a lot at night, so he must have. How come he never told me how cute she looks in them?
My breath catches when I see the low-slung PJ pants she’s wearing, showcasing the soft curve of her belly. She’s wearing the tiniest tank top, which seems to have ridden up while she slept, and I cannot take my eyes off of her.
Or her one single sock.
“Holy shit!” She stumbles when she catches sight of me. “Oh my God, I forgot where I was.”
“That’s good, right? I mean, it’s better than freaking out about not being at home?”
I don’t know how she’s going to feel about me bringing up something that Sax would know about her, but not Grant.
Maybe it’s just because she’s tired, but she doesn’t seem to mind.
“They made the room look eerily similar to my bedroom. I guess it’s helping, but it’s still a little off-putting.” She shuffles past me into the kitchen and starts making coffee.
One sugar too many, with heavy cream.
“Do you want yours with cream?” Her question is innocuous. She has no way of knowing that it’s a bit of a kick to the chest.
“Ah, I’m lactose intolerant.”
Her spoon clatters on the counter. When I turn, her knuckles are white from how she grips the edge of it. Her head hangs heavily, her shoulders slumped, and she keeps her back to me.
“Oh. Right. I thought-”
“Yeah. Derrick likes cream in his coffee.”
How many times is this going to happen? Ivan had this grand idea that we start from scratch, but how is that possible when I know that she sleeps with a teddy bear that her brother gave her when she was nine, but she doesn’t know that I’m the one who spent the entirety of ninth grade with half of my head buzzed because I thought it made me look edgy?
“How do you take your coffee, then?”
“I add a teaspoon of sugar and a pinch of cinnamon.”
She rifles through the cabinets and comes out victorious, a glass jar clutched in her hand. “I can do that.” After a few minutes, she hands me my mug and leans against the counter. “So Derrick likes his coffee with cream. How about Ivan?”
“Ivan drinks Turkish coffee.” I take a sip from the warm mug and sigh happily. It’s perfect.
Though I wouldn’t tell her if it wasn’t.
“I’ve never had that before.”
“Don’t let him hear you say that. He’ll force you to drink so much of it that you’ll be buzzing around the kitchen.”
For a few minutes, it’s easy to forget the pressure that hangs between us. She’s my scent match. One in a billion. The perfect Omega for me. Most people, upon meeting their scent matches, fall into bed almost immediately. It’s a primal draw, one that’s hard to deny.
Except that can’t be us. Not with the way things have gone for us thus far.
But I am fighting the urge to grab her by the hips and pull her flush against me. I know I shouldn’t, so I won’t, but her scent is going to my head. I want to grind my cock into her, sip from her lips, feel the way her body melts as I bring her to the brink over and over.
I want to worship her with my tongue. I want to kneel at her altar and do my penance over and over until she is a sweaty, slick mess.
I want to give her all the things she fantasized about in the quiet of her room.
Oh, wonderful, I got myself all worked up. I’ve got to figure out a way to hide this raging hard-on from her before she writes me off as a gross pervert. The guy who sniffs her wrist and gets hard over coffee.
“What’s in the box?” She moves out of the kitchen into the dining room, peering into it. “Spa stuff?”
Now’s the time to decide. Should I tell her that having a spa day together is the day’s challenge? Or do I let her believe it’s just a gift, something for us to have? I don’t want her to feel pressured to do something so intimate with us.
“Yeah, I guess production thought we’d want to have something relaxing after everything that happened yesterday.”
Wait.
Wait.
Wait.
That’s a lie.
I’m lying to her.
Again.
If she finds out, even if it’s not until the show airs, it’ll ruin everything that I’m trying to do. She will never trust me if she believes everything that comes out of my mouth is a lie.
“They said it’s today’s challenge. We have to use all of it, as a group, to get a reward.
” I take the letter from my pocket and hand it to her.
“But I don’t expect you to want to do something so intimate with us.
I think it’s shitty that the producers are asking that of us.
” I look up into the camera in the corner, scowling.
“You hear me? You’re asking her to put herself into a vulnerable position with us when she’s not ready. Not cool.”
She rests her hand on my shoulder. “Defending my honor?”
I place my hand over hers, squeezing it softly. “Always, baby.”