Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Percy
I’m fucking this all the way up.
First, I nearly outed myself checking my email to see if Paige O’Hara sent her manuscript over, yet. And now I’ve given Belle the wrong idea about my relationship to the author.
I might have toyed once with the idea of trying to meet the writer behind some of my favorite romantic scenes, but I’m content never unveiling the mystery now that I’ve met Belle. She looks perfect curled up across from me in my office, one of my books in her lap.
The only part that isn’t perfect is that she’s avoiding my gaze.
I stand up and walk around my desk to make my way over to her. Forget work. Taking care of my omega’s hurt feelings is my top priority.
Her body tenses when I stop next to the chair. She still refuses to look at me any longer, though her eyes were happily trained on me only a few minutes earlier. I didn’t consider how my concern would sound to her. As I shake my head at myself, I tug the blanket from the back of the chair tightly around her shoulders, wanting her to feel supported and safe.
“The thing with the author isn’t what you’re thinking,” I tell her, careful to keep my tone gentle and reassuring.
She tucks her chin, staring down at her lap. “I’m not thinking anything.”
“Belle...”
She opens her mouth, but nothing else comes out.
I kneel at her feet to force her to look at me. Her eyes are watery and distrustful. The sight guts me. I can’t believe I did this to her. I need to fix this fast before I completely ruin the wonderful afternoon we’ve been spending together.
“My relationships with the authors I work with aren’t personal,” I explain firmly. “We focus on words and deadlines, and structure. We don’t have real conversations or spend any length of time together.”
She’s sitting so still that I’m not sure if my words register.
I continue anyway, “That connection is not the kind that matters. Not the kind that seeps into your limbs from the ground up, zipping up your spine, and wrapping around your heart with the kind of knot that can’t be undone.”
Her cheeks flush slightly over the word knot .
My dirty girl.
“Have you felt that way?” she asks in a whisper.
“I feel that way right now.” I take her hands into mine. “You walked in here, stole my favorite chair, and have made me feel like you always belonged right here. You make the air easier to breathe. Life was good before you stumbled into our lives, but this? This is better .”
Belle’s breath catches.
“I like having you here, Belle,” I tell her. “Not just in my office, but in the house. In our lives. You’re the only omega I want taking up space in my chest.”
A beat passes.
“I like being here.” Her fingers curl around mine, holding me tightly, and I feel like I can breathe again.
Holding her hand isn’t enough. I release her long enough to stand up and pluck her out of the chair. She gasps as the book falls from her lap and hits the floor with a soft thunk. I lift her easily, turning my body so that I can plop down into my favorite chair with her perched on my lap. I wrap one arm behind her back and one around her legs, and still don’t feel like we’re making enough contact. I wish I could carry her to bed and press my entire body against hers, but I think that might be a little too much, a little too soon.
I breathe her in and take a moment to relax. For a second there, I felt true fear. The idea of losing her is just...
It’s not going to happen.
“You know,” I keep my tone light, “Knox and Rhys don’t even know I edit romance novels.”
“They don’t?” She looks at me with wide eyes.
I shrug sheepishly. “They know about the fantasy and science fiction that I edit. Dragons, sword fights, and medieval-inspired political systems. The manly stuff. I never mentioned to them when a romance author asked me to take a chance on something different. I was intrigued, but I know it’s not the kind of thing I seem like I’d read.”
“Hm.” Belle frowns. “People should be able to read whatever they like. A guy can live in the woods and like romance novels. Anyone who doesn’t like that? I think I could fight them for you.”
She sounds so serious that I fight back my urge to smile. The idea of this sweet omega fighting anyone is absurd, but I have a feeling this is an argument she feels passionately about... even in her normal, everyday life.
My omega is passionate about books. Could I get any luckier?
“You’re right, people should be able to read whatever they like. Sometimes the best books are unexpected reads. Still, it’s easier to let everyone think my focus is only on broadswords and cleaning up an epic hero’s journey. Less complicated.”
“You think liking both is complicated?” She tilts her head, trying to get a read on me.
“A lot of people have very specific ideas about who an alpha should be. We have a box we’re supposed to fit in. Breaking out of that box can certainly feel complicated,” I admit, my throat turning a little raw with emotion.
“They wouldn’t judge you,” Belle says with confidence. “Not Rhys. Not even Knox.”
I’m sure she’s right. The truth is, I think my hang-up has more to do with my past than my present circumstances. I take a deep breath and decide to let Belle in a little more.
“The truth is, I guess not telling them is more about me than about them.” My chest tightens. “My family was great in a lot of ways. Smart and tight-knit. We never fought or avoided each other, we even did book club nights growing up.”
Belle’s eyes light up. “That sounds adorable.”
I huff out a dry laugh. “Yeah, well, everyone in my family loves non-fiction exclusively . Book club nights inevitably turned into serious debates about how the writers chose to handle their topics and context. Not exactly the kind of discussions that make you think fiction book choices would be welcome.”
Talking about this is harder than I expected, but there’s something cathartic about finally admitting how book club nights made me feel.
“My family was supportive when I went into book editing,” I clarify. “But I guess I never got past the message I got as a kid that not all books were created equally. Maybe that’s why I agreed to edit the romance books in the first place, so that I could prove I wasn’t like that. That there can be a place for all kinds of stories, no matter the topic.”
“Oh, Percy.”
Belle throws her arms around my shoulders and presses closer, squeezing me tightly in a hug that I so desperately need.
Funny that while my parents were trying to instill a love of books in my siblings and me, the message I accidentally got was to judge books instead. I’m pretty sure that’s never what they meant to happen. I wish it didn’t take Belle showing up for me to finally acknowledge that for myself, though I’m still happy as hell that she did show up and is here now to be my sounding board.
When she pulls away, her face is set with a determined pinch between her eyebrows. “You should tell the pack.”
I nod.
“I mean it,” she says, sitting up straighter in my lap. “There’s a lot of love and trust between you three. You shouldn’t keep secrets from people you love. They deserve to know and love all of you, and they will .
Fuck. I didn’t expect to be hit by a wave of guilt about dishonesty while staring deeply into her eyes. Will Belle still be capable of loving all of us when the truth comes out about her stay here?
I have to hope. With every passing hour, the bond I feel to her only grows.
“Besides,” Belle muses, “what’s more alpha than not letting other people’s ideas about manliness stop you from enjoying the occasional romance? Seems like a badass alpha thing to read and edit whatever you want, if you ask me.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right,” she teases.
I run my hand over her leg, wondering how we got so lucky to find her. She’s everything I want in an omega: soft, sweet, and strong enough to lift up her alphas in a tough moment.
“Belle?”
“Yes?” She smiles sweetly.
“I’ve never felt more seen.”
Her body trembles under my touch. She doesn’t know what to say, and ultimately says nothing, instead cuddling closer and resting her head against my shoulder. I rest my cheek on top of her head and close my eyes, breathing her in.