Chapter 2
Silver
“I’m sorry, I think I misheard you. You want me to what? ” I repeat, sure my ears are deceiving me.
I can hear how unimpressed my beautiful, badass bestie is when she sighs and repeats herself for the fourth time. “I would like you to interview the Larsen pack for the rooms at your house.”
“So, I did hear you right?” I wonder, genuinely stunned.
Not in all the years of my existence would I have believed pack Larsen would come to me for help. Never. In fact, I’m confident enough to say that I’m sure they’d prefer to remain ablaze instead of allowing me to douse them in water.
Fucking assholes.
“You heard me the first three times, you tit tickler. Now will you interview them or not?” Juniper gripes, and I grin at my fierce, little kitten with claws. I’ve never known such a sassy, little omega, and I can say without doubt it’s my favorite kind of omega. Well, tied with the cuddly, clingy type. Like me.
“Well, I’d like answers first,” I counter, roaming the too-empty house in nothing but pastel-blue booty shorts and a white, cropped shirt, my white-blonde hair with pastel streaks piled on my head in a messy bun that will hurt to brush out.
Silence replies, and I grin, knowing I’m frustrating the shit out of my best friend. If she wasn’t so easy to rile, it wouldn’t be so amusing. As it was, I have as much fun winding her up as I do her evil counterpart, Munro motherfucking Villin. I’ve never known two people to be so platonically compatible. Juno is quite literally the female omega version of the miserable beta, but it’s him that occupies a corner of my brain I would very much like lobotomized.
“You need to ask questions before I can answer them, Pixie. Fucking hell,” Juniper grumbles, using my stage name as a nickname more now that she knows my secret, and I hear a snicker from down the line. Instantly, my body breaks out in goosebumps, because I think I recognize that snicker as one that belongs to none other than Aero Loughty. Great. So, she’s with them now while demanding I interview the pack who have been nothing but distant, indifferent, and downright insufferable since I met them.
“Fine. Why do they want to live with me? They hate me,” I state, tucking my cell under my ear as I reach for my guitar and place it back in the stand between the violin and near my producing setup, my keyboard still lit up with the track I’d been messing around with when Juno called.
“They don’t hate you,” my sweet-and-sassy bestie lies through her pretty, little teeth.
“You’re full of shit,” I counter with faux sweetness.
“They really don’t. Well, I can’t speak for Munro. But the others… I don’t even know. They’re desperate, okay?”
“Hey!” Aero shouts, and my lips twitch.
“I wouldn’t say desperate,” I hear the very distinct baritone of Pace Larsen.
And, to top off this particular shit sundae, Munro’s recognizable voice gripes, “Fucking rude.”
“Get over yourselves,” Juno snaps, and everyone shuts up. I sigh. I wish I had that superpower. As it was, I’m a fucking doormat. Every Tom, Dick, and Fanny walk all over me, according to my cousin, Alek. But not anymore, damn it.
Frowning with a shake of my head, I ask, “I mean, they have to be desperate to want an interview to live with me. But why don’t they stay with you? You know, since they actually like you and your pack.”
Juno snorts. “They don’t like the prospect of Evron—”
“—and his freeballing ways?” I conclude, groaning when she laughs in agreement. Then I’m groaning again, because despite my original instinct to say fuck no to the pack, my mind goes to the Deuce Biggalos and hussies who wanted a place to pimp out at. I cringe. Surely, anything would be better than that, right? Even if they don’t like me. At least it means I’ll have noise around the house. It won’t feel so lonely. My house will kind of feel like a home.
Chewing my lip, I finally ask, “Are any of them pimps or gigolos?”
Juno chokes on her inhale before she breaks out in laughter. I don’t know why, it’s a very serious and genuine question. I’m scarred for life after the last pack tried to Magic Mike me into giving them a key to my house. Fucking ab-less weirdos.
Clearing her throat, a couple of snickers still escaping, she finally answers, “Nope. No pimps or gigolos here. Well, I can’t speak for Aero.”
“Oh, my god!” the guy in question exclaims, and before I know it, his honey-smooth voice is crooning to me down the line so clearly that I don’t doubt he just snatched my bestie’s phone from her. “I’m not a lady of the night, Silver. I don’t sell my body or anything. I’m not a cam girl, and I don’t do OnlyKnots. Hell, I don’t even send nudes. Other than that one time I sent my doctor a photo of my—”
“That’s enough of that,” a different voice interrupts, Pace on the line now. Fucking hell, where am I? The godsdamned twilight zone? “Silver, what can we do to convince you that we’re not a bunch of creeps? We really just need a place to stay.”
Damn those heartstrings. The exhaustion in the man’s voice tugs at me. I’ve been lost and alone, I’ve been on the brink of desperation. I know how it feels to reach out for help when you so badly want to do things on your own. It’s those echoes of feeling that have me sighing. “Don’t make me regret this, okay?”
“Wait, are you saying you’ll let us stay?” Pace asks seriously, tone even and a little less tired now.
Shaking my head, I bite the bullet and hope I’m not making a mistake. “So long as you tidy up after yourselves, help me with grocery shopping, don’t bring your rando hookups over, and don’t eat my sweets, I’ll let you stay. I have four spare rooms, one of which we can turn into a nest for Aero. The twins can share the other. Munro can live in the shed or something. The other spare room can be used for… closet space.”
Laughter vibrates down the phone, and my jaw unhinges and falls to the damned floor. Did I just make Pace Larsen laugh? Am I high or something? Is this a dream? An alternative reality, perhaps?... Am I dead?
“That all sounds reasonable,” Pace agrees easily, and my eyebrows pinch.
“Even the hookup thing?” I blurt, surely that one would be a hard rule to follow.
I hear that laughter again, and I’m officially convinced I’m dead. There’s no other reasonable explanation for why I’m having a conversation with Pace, making him laugh, and agreeing that his pack can come live with me. None at all, other than I have officially expired. Damn, only twenty-one years on this earth and I’ve perished before I could do what I wanted to do. That’s a shame.
“None of us date, so there won’t be any randoms in your home. We’ll be respectful of your space, Silver, I promise,” he assures, his voice genuine and back to serious, though I’m sure I hear a hint of a smile in his voice.
Being dead is trippy.
Sighing at my own internal dramatics, I scratch my head where my bun sits, messing it up that bit more as I say, “I’ll take your word for it. Come by this weekend to move in. I’ll have keys made up for you by then.”
“Sounds good. Thank you, Silver,” he says, and I dutifully ignore the butterflies that explode in my belly at the softness in which this man says my name. I’m ignoring the full-body shiver and the way my heart sort of hiccups in my chest, too. I’m fully excusing those little anomalies and putting them down to my lack of orgasms I’ve had in the last couple of days. I simply need a date with Merlin the Magical Vibrating Wand and I’ll be as fine as the day is… what day is it?
“Uh-huh, sure,” I mutter, distracted while I go in search of a calendar. Thursday. It’s Thursday. Oh my god, does that mean…?
“You’re a lifesaver, Pixie,” Juno’s voice comes through the speaker, and I frown at the calendar.
“Has the new episode of Brewing Murder been released today?” I blurt, changing the topic to more important things.
“Oh my god, it has, and it was crazy,” Juno brags.
“Don’t tell me anything. It’s my bedtime, true-crime story,” I quickly demand, cutting her off before she can spoil it for me. Again. “Anyway, you’re welcome for doing you this massive favor. I expect to be repaid with one of Leylan’s perfumes. Preferably something sweet. But not like yours, even though it’s sickeningly romantic that he decided to get into his career choice because he missed your scent. That’s some book-or-movie-level shit.”
Juno snorts. “I’ll make sure to pay up. Love you, dork.”
“Love you, nerd,” I quip, smiling at how far we’ve come in the last couple of months.
Ditching my cell on my bed, I take a seat at my keyboard and slide my headphones on, blocking out the world while I focus on my music. I spend the next few hours, long into the early hours of the morning, creating a set list for tomorrow night and wondering how the hell I’m going to live with five guys who don’t even like me.
What the hell have I done?
***
Shades on, homemade cocktail in hand, and my bare legs kicked up on a sun lounger, I slurp on the straw sunken in the vibrant pink-and-yellow-ombre drink I created while I watch pack Larsen move their belongings into my home. It doesn’t go missed that I receive a nasty sneer from Munro every time he passes by, his dark curls glistening in the sun, his intensely dark eyes shooting daggers with every grin I send him. The others have kept their silence, sending me curious or mildly irritated glances as I watch them un-haul Juniper’s truck.
“This was a good idea,” Juno sighs, lying on her stomach, her back bare in the halter dress she’s wearing, black just like her soul, as she claims. Her boot-covered feet are crossed at the ankles, her sunglasses a little wonky from where she rests her face on her crossed arms, but she looks hella relaxed.
As does Geo, the massive beefcake that looks like he could break me in half with one hand. He’s sitting upright, grinning mockingly at Pace as he carries a particularly heavy-looking box, his own cocktail in hand, man enough to rock a sunset beverage without an ounce of embarrassment or shame. “Very good idea, although we could have sat in the sun at home.”
“You’d miss out on the entertainment if you were at home,” I dutifully point out, slurping more of my drink and making eye contact with Aero as he drags a beat-up suitcase by us with an amused grin that sends those butterflies soaring again. Though they have very little, their belongings meagre at best, they have a decent amount of battered furniture and boxes labelled with their names. I wonder where the hell they’ve been storing it all whilst living in the motel?
“Save me some,” the omega teasingly demands, sending me a wink before disappearing into the house and to the bedrooms on the second floor of my humble abode.
Well, actually, there’s nothing really humble about the white-and-grey-stone contemporary house that contains enough windows to be considered a human greenhouse. For someone who likes to lie in the sun like a housecat, the windows are what sold me on the extravagant house I bought last year. A house I bought with my own money, grown from a portfolio of stocks and investments my cousin helped me build, all from the trust fund my grandparents left me when I turned eighteen. It’s the only money I’ve touched, wanting nothing to do with the tainted dollars my parents keep trying to force onto me in exchange for my compliance and obedience.
Fuck that, fuck them, and fuck their money.
“You know, you could help instead of sitting there watching,” a sharp voice snaps, yanking me out of my thoughts of my shitty parents and their delusional ideologies on how an omega daughter should act, dress, and present themselves. Fucking chodes, the lot of them.
Raising an eyebrow at a snappy Munro, I take another sip of my drink before offering my help in the form of some sage wisdom. “Always lift with your legs, never your back.”
“What?” Munro blurts, shaking his head with a cute, little scowl.
“That was me helping. My advice is very helpful. Like, never eat yellow snow. Never piss in the dark. Don’t ever fart in cold weather. If your breath causes condensation when you breathe in cold weather, imagine what that ass will do when you guff. Uh, what else?” I wonder, listing off my wisdom with my fingers as I peer into the sky in thought. “Ah! Always make sure your vibrator is charged in case the power goes out. Um, never trust a fart after ana— Oh, he’s gone.”
The place where Munro had once stood is now vacated, and it takes me a moment to realize Juniper and Geo are sitting upright and watching me with shaking shoulders and amusement plastered all over their faces.
“Which one sent him over the ledge? Was it the vibrator? It was the vibrator, wasn’t it?” I ask, simply for my need for confirmation.
Geo nods with a beaming grin. “It was absolutely the vibrator.”
“Never trust a fart after anal, huh?” Juniper wonders, barely holding on to her laughter.
I shrug. “I don’t actually know about that one. My puckered star is still a virgin. It was just something I figured would make for good advice, even if it wasn’t true.”
And that’s where my best friend and her handsome, beta beau lose their shit, laughing so hard no sound escapes them. With a satisfied smile on my face, I lean back in my chair once more and continue to sip on my cocktail, enjoying the fact that I can make my friend and her pack laugh, at least.
“So, how long are we staying out here watching them move shit?” Geo wonders without judgement, already Team Silver in all things that matter. Even his friendship with Pace tends to go in favor of me, if the way he grins mockingly at Pace every time he passes is anything to go by.
I shrug. “Didn’t really have a timeline in mind. Until they’re finished, maybe? Do you think we should help some more by cheering them on?”
“Yes. You should definitely do that,” he agrees earnestly, and I know it’s just because he wants a reaction out of his friends. But who am I not to oblige?
So, while Juno snickers into the crook of her arm and Geo sits back with a readiness I admire, I place my glass of sugary goodness down in the cup holder of my lounger and begin my cheering and hollering, “Woo, yeah! You carry that flat screen TV! You make that furniture your bitch! That computer monitor has nothing on you! Get it, kings! Yeeeaaahhhh!”
Aero is clearly enjoying my enthusiasm, heaving his box higher in his arms like it would hide the vibrant grin he’s wearing. Of course, I see it and am not surprised. He’s an omega, after all, and we thrive on praise. Rage and Haze glance over while they’re carrying the television and a small dresser that has seen better days, shaking their heads before moving on. Pace stares at me like he’s worried for my sanity. A valid concern, but one not worth the attention. Pretty sure I lost my shit years ago at the hands of my overbearing, controlling, stuck up, snooty parents. But it is what it is.
“That’s all you could carry?” I volley at Munro, because fuck him and his glares and scowls. The least he could offer is a bland expression after I provided him an actual room and not the shed. Juniper was very convincing in her appeal to give him his own room, all about being the bigger person , yadda yadda. I wish I’d shoved him in the old doghouse at the back of the property. I’m sure he would have been only mildly furious about the leaky roof.
Munro narrows his eyes at me as he carries a large bookcase that appears to be heavy even as he maneuvers it with ease, and I hide a smirk behind my drink at the prospect of giving him a complex about his strength. I mean, if he’s giving me a personality complex, then fair’s fair, right? That jackass has made me feel insufferable over the past few months, like I’m a nuisance to be around, so why not make him feel like a puny little bean as vengeance? Just call me Bubblegum Batman.
“Justice!” I yell with a weird, deep, manly voice that doesn’t sound manly at all. “Where’s Rachel?!”
Munro simply sneers and meanders off with his furniture, one of the shelves appearing to be splintered, but whatever. I’m not wasting my sympathy on that fuck-nugget.
When the twins and Aero come back out, I go right back to cheering like I’m supporting the football team, and Geo chuckles, “Where’s that level of support at my games?”
Cutting off my vibrant affirmations and shit, I playfully glare at the athlete. “It’s wasted on you. Juno always out-screams me on game day, in more ways than one. Be grateful for what you get.”
And with that, I leave the two love birds chortling in their loungers while I scoop up my empty glass and meander into the kitchen for a refill. If I’m going to force my enthusiasm, I’m going to be drunk while I do it.
Between me leaving, pouring my drink, and returning to the beautiful outdoors, the twins have lost their shirts while one carries one end of a chipped and beat-up desk and the other carries the opposite. The moment I witness all the tanned glory on full display, every divot and dip of abs, each freckle and tattoo that marks the curve of their muscles, my brain goes blank before it’s flooded with images of sexy alphas carrying furniture in low-slung jeans with the waistbands of their boxers peeking above their pants.
I’m all too aware of the eyes that turn to me suddenly, fully aware of the spike my scent takes, and embarrassingly aware of the plume of perfume that wafts from my body like an arousal beacon that has never made me blush until right now.
Geo and Juniper are grinning wildly at me, like they’re enthralled in this turn of events, so I decide to simply go with the flow and act like there’s nothing at all wrong with this scenario. I’ve had enough of being embarrassed about who and what I am, so fuck it all. I’m going to own it, even now. “What? There are abs and muscled guys sweating in the sun. A blind woman could see how hot you are, so sue me for finding chiseled abs and tatted skin sexy enough to spark a perfume blunder.”
Shrugging like it’s no big deal, masking how it’s the first time I’ve actually perfumed for a fucking dude before, I sip my drink and drop back into my seat with an internal freak out that I will unpack when I’m alone and locked behind the door to my nest.
I’m pretty sure I catch Haze’s lips twitch as they carry the desk inside, and I relax into my seat as soon as they disappear. A blooper on my part, because Juniper practically assaults me with her words the moment they’re out of earshot. “What the fuck was that about?”
I widen my eyes behind my sunglasses, sure she can see it, and I shake my head as I whisper furiously, “I don’t have a damned clue. I’ve never done that before.”
Juniper winces, and my eyebrows pinch.
“I’ve never done that before… right?” I ask, watching my best friend closely.
She cringes and offers me an awkward smile that I think is supposed to be reassuring.
“Stop. It looks like you’re about to shit yourself. Why are you looking at me like that?” I rush, my words almost blurring into one.
Juniper rolls her eyes, still looking a little sheepish, and finally says, “Remember my birthday? When we decided to make a competition out of who could drink more without falling into the pool and you accidentally knocked Munro into it when you tripped over your own foot?”
Cautiously, I nod, because the memory is slightly blurry but it’s there. Munro went ass over tit into the pool and came out seething mad, glaring at me while water dripped from his soaked clothes. Clothes that, if my drunk memories serve me correctly, clung to his body in ways that should be considered illegal.
The imagery brings forth another perfume blunder, and my eyes widen to the size of saucers. “Oh, no. Nu-uh. Didn’t happen. Won’t believe it.”
“Would it make you feel better to know it was only Munro and me around at the time?” Juniper snickers, even as she winces with secondhand embarrassment.
Oddly enough, it does make me feel somewhat better, though it does explain why the grumpy beta has been more prickly toward me than he was before the party. Where he would usually ignore my very existence, I’ve been bestowed with nasty looks and dirty eye rolls, and it all makes sense now. The bastard thinks I have the hots for him, and he hates it, because he hates me .
Well, fuck him, even if I maybe do have the hots for him. I mean, I have eyes. He’s fucking gorgeous, with dark hair and eyes and tattoos that cover him from his neck to the tips of his fingers. It’s his personality that leaves a lot to be desired.
Taking a hefty swallow of my drink, I gasp for air from the cold and mutter, “I’m getting drunk so I can forget that particular revelation. Are you staying longer?”
“Can’t, sorry. I promised the guys we’d go to the beach later for the sunset,” Juno sighs happily, and I ignore the pang of envy that always comes out to play when that look of blissful happiness washes over Juno’s pretty face.
I’m happy for my best friend, I really am. If anyone deserves what Juniper Baines has found, it’s her. But there’s always a small part of me that wishes I had it, too. That I had a pack who were there for me, and only me. Not the money and power that comes with the Gage name. Not for the bribery of dating me just to boost their status in the world of socialites. And certainly not because they made some fucked-up, little agreement with my mother to court me in exchange for a place at the company that could burn for all I care.
“Woah, what happened? Your scent just dimmed,” Juno whispers with a concerned frown.
With a sigh, I opt not to get into it. This is a good day, after all. We’ve got cocktails, abs, and cocktails. “Nothing at all, my soft, little kitten. How about we simply spend the rest of your time here relaxing and enjoying the view, huh?”
Juno eyes me carefully, but she relents, clanking her own glass with mine. We spend the next hour relaxing and laughing, ignoring my weird, little bodily reactions to sexy guys, and it’s honestly one of the best days I’ve had since meeting my polar-opposite bestie.