Mile High Heat (Heat Cute Omegaverse #1)

1. Shiloh

Chapter 1

Shiloh

“Laptops out of the bag! Shoes off!” the TSA agent yells and I consider crying right then and there.

She stares at me like I’d offended her entire family as I slip my shoes off and put them in the bin. I hate the way this all feels, how many scents are at the airport, how many unfamiliar people are roaming the massive space.

But I needed to get back to Philadelphia and there was no way I was driving all the way there from Agoura Hills. I’d probably have a bigger meltdown driving cross country in a rental car all by myself.

I usually fly private with the guys…but that definitely won’t be happening ever again.

I slide the bin down the rolling runway and the TSA agent gives me a disgusted look. I have scent blockers on, that’s a requirement for air travel for any Omega, bonded or not. But I still have to wear an identifiable tag, the badge feels like a scarlet letter on my chest and this bitch is just making it worse.

As soon as I get through the scanner I know I’m going to get a pat down, I just fucking know it. Especially out of LAX.

Apparently no Omega in their right mind would travel alone, unless they are smuggling drugs. No matter how adamant I am that I don’t have anything illegal, they still pull me to the side.

At least the TSA agent is a woman and a Beta at that. Her hands don’t wander as she pats me down.

“What’s the reason for your travel?” she asks.

I’ve been asked this same question by nearly every employee I’ve had to deal with in this godforsaken hellhole.

The lie easily slips out of my mouth.

“My grandmother is sick, this is my last chance to see her.” I may or may not cross my fingers as I say it.

“No pack?” she asks intrusively.

No other designation here has to answer for their travel plans or explain their brutally recent breakup.

“No.”

She pats me down a few more times and gives me a nod. I go to collect my belongings, and of-fucking-course they’re being searched. The large male Alpha rifles through my bag and I have to choke down a whine.

His scent is going to linger on my stuff for days.

He reads all my pill bottles and despite the fact I’m trying to hold it together, it bothers me more than it should. I never asked for this.

All I wanted was a pack. Nick, Danny, and Ryan were supposed to be that, but apparently I was naive to think they wanted the same. I thought eventually they would want to stop touring, or at least bond me so I felt more at ease during the next tour.

Instead, they told me it wasn’t good for their image to be bonded. I stupidly thought that at least Danny would stand up for me, but he just agreed with Nick and Ryan, like he always does. I meant nothing to them and they couldn’t have made it more clear in the way they dismissed me.

I immediately called my gran and asked her if I could come back home. She agreed right away—even if I feel guilty about imposing on her. This is now the second time I’ve been discarded on her doorstep against her will. I know that she’s happy to have me, but she has a busy social life. She’s already spent so much of her life taking care of others and I feel like a burden putting her in this position again.

The guys didn’t even seem to care that I was leaving, they said that they understood and that maybe one day the universe would bring us back together. It’s a huge load of bullshit.

They wanted me around for my heats, and the comfort an Omega could bring Alphas, but they didn’t want me . What was even more evident. They didn’t care what I wanted.

Isn’t that the whole point of this archaic designation system? If I have to be an Omega, and deal with everything that comes with it, I’m owed perks. Those perks came in the form of a pack that takes care of me, that loves me.

I wipe my eyes as the TSA agent rolls his.

“Solo Omega travel should be banned,” he says as he zips up my carry-on and I grab my large purse and place my shoes back on.

I didn’t cause a scene, no matter how badly I want to. The last thing I need is to miss this flight or be put on the no fly list for telling a TSA agent he’s an asshole with outdated, narrow-minded views.

But as I leave security and head toward my terminal, the regretful feeling that he’s right hits me in the form of a million scents. I shake my head and take a seat by the terminal agent's desk trying to ignore the chaos surrounding me.

It feels safer.

As badly as I want to get up and go get a soft pretzel covered in cinnamon and sugar, I sit here and wait to board. I don’t want to risk bumping into anyone, or missing my flight, even if I’m here two hours early.

Instead, I take out my iPad and draw. Art was always how I calmed myself down, whether it was drawing, coloring, crocheting. Something about the act of using my hands and focusing on a craft project helps me forget about the messy world around me.

Even if right now all I feel like doing is crying and having a pity party of epic proportions.

Crying over flying commercial, over not being loved, over being such a fucking idiot.

Two years. I gave those assholes two years of my heats, my comfort, and my love. Sure, they took care of me financially—I wanted for nothing.

But they didn’t love me. I wasn’t their first choice. I’ve never been anyone’s first choice. I get back to the cactus I’m drawing, trying to not let old feelings of abandonment resurface.

I sniffle and wipe my face, I feel like such a fool. All the signs were there and I just ignored all the red flags like a needy, stupid Omega.

Two years? Two fucking years? That’s an unheard amount of courting time. Most Alphas are so possessive over their Omegas that the idea of not bonding them is unfathomable.

What was it about me that they didn’t want to bond with me?

I stiffen as a woman sits next to me, a Beta. Safe . She’s safe. She glances down at my iPad, but doesn’t say anything for a long moment.

“It’s fucked up they make you wear those badges,” she says and I can’t help the upturn of my lip.

She’s definitely not from California, not only did her accent give her away, but the fact she sat down and spoke to me at all.

“I couldn’t agree more,” I reply.

“Like, what’s the fuckin’ point of having you wear scent blockers if they’re just going to mark you as an Omega anyway?”

I shrug and she squints at me.

“Wait. Do I know you?”

I shake my head and she really stares at my face, trying to place me. I see her Smash Knot shirt, and wince. I drew that design for them for free, and my stupid ass didn’t ask for royalties or payment.

How was I so freaking blind?

“Wait. Hold the fuck up. You’re Smash Knot’s Omega companion, aren’t you?”

Omega. Companion.

It should’ve been the first huge red flag waving in my face when they wouldn’t commit, but my stupid ass didn’t see it.

“Not anymore,” I whisper.

“Good for you. Fuck ‘em.”

I glance over at the Beta next to me, her honey brown eyes search mine and part of me wants to hug her. No one else even considered that I was the one who made the decision to break up, all the online forums speculated that they dropped me.

Yet, this perfect stranger realized that I was better off from the separation. I feel seen, and it’s the most validated I’ve felt since walking into the airport.

“Thank you,” I reply, and she gives me a nod, before putting on her headphones and ignoring me completely.

Fuck. I can’t wait to finally be back home.

Maybe it’s my anxiety, maybe it’s the hope that she’ll give a shit, but I decide to text my mom. All I’ve ever wanted was for her to actually give a shit. Maybe now that I’m not an annoying child and an adult things could change. Maybe she’d come visit me and Gran; it’s been about a year since the last time I saw her, and even then, her focus was on getting to know my Alphas, not catching up with me.

Hey, mom. I just wanted to let you know that I’m headed back to Philly to live with Gran.

Mom

What happened with Smash Knot?

I’m surprised she texted me back so fast, maybe it’s a move in the right direction.

They didn’t want to bond, so I left.

Mom

That’s a shame. I always did like Danny.

I exit out of the chat and try to keep myself together. There was no sign of support, no asking me how I am, just thinking about the Alpha who didn’t have the spine to stick up for me. I don’t know why I bothered even texting her, she always finds a way to disappoint me.

Maybe it’s why I stuck with that pack far longer than I should’ve. I’m numb to disappointment and can’t see when people don’t want me around.

I wipe my face, this isn’t anything new, and I’m not sure why I expected any different.

It’s like I’m a glutton for punishment. Like I wasn’t already sad and miserable enough being at this airport alone that I had to add even more emotional trauma into the mix.

“At this time we’re boarding families, military, and packs with Omegas,” the terminal worker says, and I stand up, it feels like eyes are boring holes in the side of my face as I give her my ticket. She looks down at it, noticing the bright pink tick mark, they wouldn’t even let me use a digital boarding pass. “Once you board, Ali will take you to your seat.”

“I thought there wasn’t assigned seating.”

She doesn't even blink as she looks at me and says nothing. I’m left feeling uncomfortable, but have no choice but to move forward onto the jetway.

I swallow thickly as I step over the threshold, already feeling confined and scared.

Ali is all smiles, until I hand her my ticket. When she sees the pink mark she looks at me with pity before leading me to a seat all the way in the back of the plane. I have no scent with the blockers, there was no reason to put me all the way back here, but I don’t even bother complaining. At least I’m by a window, the unofficial, designated Omega seat.

The flight is five hours. I can survive five hours on this plane, and then after, I’ll never have to step on a single commercial flight again.

That is now one of my life goals. Find a rich pack who both love and spoil me. Rich enough to fly first class, at least.

I grimace at myself, hating that I care about money, but at least I’m honest with myself.

I know that I’m a catch, that I can take care of Alphas, that I will be a good Omega and mother. I also know how I look and what my scent does to Alphas.

Well…maybe I’d been slightly deluded in what I could offer. They were supposed to be my pack, but the band was more important than me, maybe I didn’t bring as much to the table as I thought? Or maybe LA is just a different breed and it was impossible to compete there.

On the East Coast, I’ll be a catch. Or at the minimum I’ll hold this delusion till I die, because there’s no way I’ll ever settle.

It’s everything or bust when it comes to finding a pack. At least for me.

Being alone is going to be a challenge, but I’d figure it out. At least I’ll have my Gran. I can go to Heat Haven for my heats. Hell, I’ve read so many sub Reddits about Omegas who found love at the upscale heat clinic.

I’ll be okay. I’ll get through this.

All that positive talk is for nothing as two massive Alphas take the seats next to me. I feel like I‘m being shoved against the window of the airplane, making myself as small as possible to accommodate their large frames. Story of my sad little life.

The one next to me smells like a warm day at the beach, it’s nice…more than nice. I immediately feel on edge and needy. It only gets worse as more and more people board the plane. I’m completely boxed in by Alphas, all of their scents mingling and making my brain go haywire.

I make myself small, and try not to think about how I need to endure this for the next few hours, and how there’s no way to escape.

Fuck.

I grip my throat, and try to breathe through my mouth. It doesn’t make a difference, my eyes tear up with fear. It feels like I’m breathing fire the way the air scratches my throat. Sweat is beading down the side of my forehead and I’m doing my best to push away the panic that’s threatening to break me.

No, fuck no. I’ve cried enough over men who didn’t give a shit about me, I’m not about to start over strangers.

Maybe I’m really good at lying to myself, because things only get worse after take off. All the air blowing throughout the plane just makes one giant discerning Alpha scent and it’s driving me crazy.

It’s not just a small inconvenience, like someone sniffling the entire trip. No, this is a festering feeling that feels like impending doom. I want to peel my skin off, I want to scream, I want to strap a fucking parachute on my back and jump out of this plane to get away from all the scents.

But I can’t, there’s no escaping, which has the stress of everything creeping up my throat like bile. We aren’t even out of California yet.

I turn to the Alpha next to me as the fasten seatbelt sign turns off.

“Excuse me, can I pass?” I say, even though I know I probably sound on the verge of tears.

He looks me over, he’s older, and when he notices my badge his face softens.

“You here alone?”

I nod, trying not to cry. He gives me a gentle smile. At least it’s some proof that all Alphas aren’t bastards.

“I’ll escort you myself. You’re brave, you know, I’ll tell Carmen all about it when I get home.”

He nudges the man next to them and they get up as he leads me to the bathroom. Maybe talking to him will reduce my panic.

“Is Carmen your Omega?” I ask.

“Yes. I can’t wait to get home to her,” he says dreamily and it’s wrong but it feels like an icy dagger to the chest.

Has anyone ever thought of me this way? I’m sure the guys aren’t even missing me right now, they probably have some other Omega already taking over my old room.

The rejection flooding through me is too much as I lock myself into the small bathroom, which turns out to be the worst decision I’ve ever made.

If I thought the plane was bad when it came to scents, the bathroom is fifty times worse.

I scratch my neck with my nails, harder than I intended. I’m gasping for air as I turn on the faucet and try to splash some water on my face and cool down my feverish skin.

The plane bounces slightly and I hold on to the sink, staring at my tear-filled eyes and blown pupils.

No. No. No.

My heat was just…I pull out my phone and look at the math. I should have a solid month before my next heat. But as I look at my sweaty face in the mirror, and feel my scalding skin, it’s clear.

The universe fucking hates me.

I’m going into heat on a budget airline and I fear I’d much rather get sucked out of this plane before dealing with the reality of my situation.