Chapter 16
WREN
I’m absolutely, definitely not drunk dialing my sister while waiting for the electric kettle to boil in our kitchen. It might be midnight here, and I still haven’t taken my makeup off, but it’s barely gonna be bedtime for her on the West Coast.
“Are you calling me from a bar? Or jail?” She talks through a mouthful as soon as she answers the phone.
“Hey to you too.”
“Finch had a good game.”
“You saw?”
“Kinda. Had it on in the background… I’m binging Alpha Island. One guy keeps trying to get his knot out and prove his is the biggest. It’s like a car crash, it’s so cringe, but I can’t look away.”
“Bet it’s tiny.” My nose scrunches. There’s nothing worse than those kinds of Alphas who think they’re hot shit. When really they’re nothing more than too much fake tan and steroid use.
“Will be like a little deflated Cheerio. Imagine waving that around on international screens.” She makes a gagging noise. “He’ll probably helicopter the weeny thing. A heliweener, if you will.”
A very inelegant snort comes out of me.
“So, if you’re not requiring bail or needing a second opinion on whether a guy is worthy of being allowed near your coochie tonight… What’s up?” She crunches down on what I can only assume is double-butter popcorn. Her ultimate vice.
“Can you keep a secret?”
“Do you even have to ask at this point? Already taken to the grave.”
Scrunching my eyes, I suck in a breath, then exhale it all rapidly in one go. “I kinda sorta met my scent match tonight at the game.”
Lark sounds like she just choked on her popcorn or possibly spat it across the room.
“He’s involved with the Wolves team.” I bite my thumbnail, wincing.
There are more spluttering sounds. I’m not planning on telling her the other awkward details, like the fact that he’s my ex-boyfriend’s dad. Even just thinking about that makes me squirm.
Unfortunately, in an I’m more turned on by that than I have any real right to be sort of way.
“Is he hot?” She finally manages to speak.
It shouldn’t even matter. He’s my scent match.
The most perfect, compatible person to exist for me.
The type of bond uniquely discovered between an Alpha and Omega.
Looks, or hotness, don’t even play a part in it…
but god, does it provide a wickedly tempting added bonus that he’s immensely lickable.
In my silence as I pin my phone against my shoulder and pour hot water over my herbal ginger tea, I feel my cheeks burning.
“OHMYGOD.” Lark squeals so loud I have to set the kettle down and pull the phone away from my ear for a moment. “This is me losing my shit. I’m so stupidly happy for you, I could cry.”
With a few drinks on board, I’m unable to stop myself from yapping.
“He’s… stunning, Lark. I truthfully don’t think a man could be any more handsome than him.
I can’t stop thinking about him, ugh, god, and the way he smells divine.
This is why I’m in so much danger, because I find him insanely attractive. ” The confession pours out of me.
“Why is that a problem? Surely that’s a good thing? You’re attracted to your scent match… wonderful… now go rut each other’s brains out.”
A scoff accompanies the stubborn shake of my head that she can’t even see. “It’s complicated, alright? But he gave me his number. That was very swoony.”
“I bet it was,” she says dryly.
“Stop it. I’m being serious… there’s a big chance I blacked out on the actual details, but I’m pretty sure I told him to have a nice life or something to that effect, which was after running away from him.”
“For fuck’s sake. Really?”
“Caught one sniff and did my best track star impression.”
“Jesus.” Her eye roll is loud and clear. “He already sounds too good to be true if he chased your flighty ass down. What’s his name?”
“Theo.” A warm glow expands inside my chest, one that has nothing to do with the bourbon earlier or the champagne after the match. Something burrowed deep inside me blazes at the mere mention of his name out loud.
Lark goes awfully quiet for a moment, then screeches, “Wren Murphy.”
“What?” Blinking, the dots are slow to connect in my mind. “What are you doing? Oh god. You’re looking him up, aren’t you—”
“Theo Brennan, forty-two, is the majority owner of Willow Falls Wolves professional rugby union team in Vermont.” She reads the information out to me, and I’m helplessly glued to the spot, listening to the details I don’t want to admit just how eager I am to find out.
“Midway through a stellar career as long-standing starting center and captain of the Wolves, Brennan was on track for national team honors and rumored captaincy when injuries forced his early retirement. Since then, he’s been a significant contributor to the game at the grassroots level, founding a charity for underprivileged youth to access sports, and the Wolves team ownership. He also has big Alpha dick energy and—”
“Oh my god, it does not say that,” I whisper aggressively. Now it makes sense why he looked familiar. A former pro player himself…
“Well, thank fuck it’s him. Because I honestly don’t know what you saw in that Beta you dated. I always imagined you ending up with a rugby player, to be honest.”
My teeth pinch the inside of my cheek.
“He’s involved with the team? Understatement of the damn century, Wren. He owns the team. Alpha boy toy is loaded.”
“We don’t know that.”
“Do I need to spell out his net worth to you also? Or are you going to grow a pair and look him up online yourself?”
“I’ll look him up,” I mutter. “But it feels like I’m invading his privacy.”
“Well, considering his knot is gonna be invading your—”
“Alright. That’s all the time we have for questions from the floor today.” Cutting her off, I’m stifling a laugh. Not wanting to encourage her any further.
We say our goodbyes, and I finally get to sip my tea. The only thing to make this scenario better is a snack to shuffle off to bed with. So I open the pantry and commence Operation Midnight Feast, in search of a bagel to slather in cream cheese.
With knife in hand and bagel poised to be toasted, my phone pings where I left it lying face-up on the bench. Leaning over to take a quick glance at whatever smart-ass follow-up has arrived from my sister, I’m left slack-jawed at the sight of the name that appears on my screen instead.
Theo.
Is there anything you need delivered? Late-night takeout, perhaps?
I’m just in the neighborhood.
I drop everything and type out a hasty response. Forgetting every rule in existence about playing it cool.
Me:
Who is this? How did you get my number?
My teeth catch my bottom lip, waiting breathlessly to see if he’ll be just as charming over text.
Theo:
Very funny.
Why didn’t you tell me you’re Murphy’s sister?
Me:
I asked you a question first.
Also, you are NOT in the neighborhood. You don’t even know where I live, never mind the fact that it’s nearly midnight.
Theo:
Can you blame a guy for trying?
I blow out a breath. Okay, he’s being too cute, and is it completely nuts to admit that I already feel like we know each other? Like we’ve skipped over all the awkward first date fumbles and gone straight to the part where we can talk freely.
This scent match shit is wild.
Me:
I’m fine. Honestly.
But thank you for checking.
Theo:
Are you home safely from the stadium?
Also, is it way too much too soon if I admit I nearly sent a text about three hours ago to offer you and your friends a ride?
Me:
Not too much. It’s thoughtful… thank you.
I’m gonna be honest now, too. I’m still wrapping my head around all of this.
There are just too many things stacked against a scent match being viable.
Theo:
We’ll see.
Since apparently I’m not allowed near you, can you send me a photo? Just so I’ve got something to look at. You know… just in case.
Dots flurry on the screen. He’s still typing, and my heart flutters to keep time with those tiny bouncing icons.
Wait, shit. That came out wrong.
Not in a sleazy way. I promise I’m not some dirty old pervert.
I meant that to come out more like “I just met my scent match and I already miss her” kind of way.
“Bagel party at midnight? An Omega after my own heart.” Nikita walks in, freshly showered and in her pajamas.
Quickly glancing up from my phone, I’m a possum in the headlights. I know that I’ve failed spectacularly in hiding my expression after reading that most recent text.
As she starts toasting her own, she arches a perfect eyebrow at me. “Who are you talking to at this time of night?”
Gabbie wanders in, immediately zeroing in on the phone clutched tight in my hands.
“Gab, tell me why our girl here is smiling?” Nikita tilts her head to one side.
“Could it be a certain scent match? A rugby player? Take your pick…”
They crowd around me, and I hold the phone close to my chest, clicking my tongue at them while backing up against the counter.
“I’m not showing you.” A tiny smile catches the corners of my lips. “But it’s Theo.”
“Oh my god, he’s eager. Your scent must have him all kinds of messed up already. How’s his texting game? Is he flirty?”
Gabbie bunches her hair up into a bun and nods emphatically. “You should definitely flirt back.”
“No… it’s stupid to even entertain talking to him. Besides, I already told him I was going to bed.” Lies.
“Girl. You need to put yourself out there. The guy is like genetically coded to want to adore you and worship the ground you walk on.” Nikita smears a dollop of cream cheese on her bagel once it’s ready, then eyeballs me.
“Oh no, wait. Scratch that. Is he after a booty call? In that case, I don’t care if he’s your scent match, block his ass.
” She waves her freshly toasted snack at me, making a giant X in the air.
“He’s being sweet. It’s not like that.”
“Okay, well, cute. Lover boy has redeemed himself.”
My stomach swoops from a great height. Oh my god, he is not a boy in any sense of the word.
“I’m going to bed.” I snatch up my bagel and tea, ignoring their childish smooching sounds as I make my way to the privacy of my bedroom.
Theo:
Now I’m wondering if you’re busy filing a restraining order…
Me:
Is your surname spelled Brennan with one N or two? The paperwork needs to be exact for the courts.
Theo:
Careful, little Omega. I’m desperate enough that I’ll go to your brother for help if necessary.
Me:
Don’t you dare.
My roommates were interrogating me.
Funnily enough, it turns out they get curious when an Alpha starts texting me in the middle of the night.
Theo:
I like that they’re looking out for you.
I gotta ask… are there other Alphas in that phone of yours?
I think immediately about Connor, and how if the circumstances were different, maybe there might be something to explore with him.
The fact I’d love to have a pack when the time is right.
Even if at this point in time, in the here and now, I can’t do anything but pass on those sorts of silly notions.
Gnawing on my bottom lip, I decide to test those waters. Theo being my scent match is one thing, but if he can’t handle the idea of sharing me, then that poses an even bigger problem.
Jesus. Just stack ’em all up like a tower of cards, ready to crumble at this point.
Me:
Maybe?
Would you be okay with that?
His reply is immediate, leaving me letting out a relieved sigh.
Theo:
Whatever makes you happy is what I want.
Me:
By the way… You know you can’t have me saved in your phone as my actual name. In case someone sees.
Theo once again doesn’t hesitate. This man is all action and sincerity, and that does something to my insides. A very fluttery, sweep me right off my feet if I’m not careful, something. He sends a screenshot of our conversation… and at the top is the nickname he’s given me.
My birdie girl.
I flop back on my bed and silently kick my heels in the air. This is unbelievable, completely wrong and unfathomable, but here I am grinning from ear to ear at the sight of texts on my phone from my ex’s father.
Clearly, my entire moral compass has been flipped on its head, because I type out a reply that I absolutely shouldn’t be sending. But I do it anyway.
Me:
No promises on the photo. But… I’ll think about it.
Goodnight, Theo.