Chapter 7
. . .
BEAU
The second the words are out of my mouth, I wince.
Way too hopeful. Way too romantic. Way too much pressure to put on an omega I’ve just met.
I pull my hand back before I keep moving too fast. “Sorry, that was weird. I didn’t mean with you.”
Shit, no, that’s over-correcting.
Ruby’s manicured brows knit together in displeasure. “You didn’t?”
“I mean, I did. But also I didn’t? I meant that I’m over them as much as I can be. That I’m done letting what happened keep me from the potential of something good. Maybe that something is with you. But I don’t want you to think…”
Ruby’s smile returns, lips quirking up a bit more in one corner. “That you’re mentally already bonded to me with three kids and another on the way?”
Well, now I am.
“Yeah, exactly.” I push some of the wilted spinach around on my plate to distract myself from how awkward I’m being.
“For what it’s worth, I bet our kids would be really cute.” The words are so nonchalant that I wonder if I’ve misheard her, but she continues. “Your eyes, my hair. Adorable.”
I try to act calm that she’s thinking about combining our genetic material, but fuck if my alpha isn’t delighted by the thought. Not only about the sex producing those kids would require, but the thought of being a parent.
I want kids. I didn’t think they were in the cards for me, and I’d never pressure a partner into having them, but I really want to be a dad.
I’m about to ask her what her natural hair color is so I can better imagine these fantasy kids when I realize I already know because I’ve seen the dark brown patch of hair between her thighs.
“Do you…want kids?” I ask cautiously, not wanting to seem too eager.
She shrugs. “Do you?”
“Not fair,” I grumble. “I’ve been answering all of your tough questions. Don’t make me go first this time.”
She giggles at my frustration, which is good because I was worried it came off as too grumpy.
“You’re right. Kids are…complicated. I think I’d enjoy being a parent, but I very much am not a fan of the thought of actually being pregnant and childbirth.
” She frowns. “Which is unfortunate, given my typical omega breeding kink.”
“Fuck.” The word is low and tinged with a pleased growl, falling from my lips before I can stop it. She has to stop saying things like that or I’m going to get fully hard here at the table.
“Sorry to disappoint,” she says, pretending to not understand my reaction.
She leans in a little, giving me another one of her wicked smiles, and I desperately need to scent mark her, even though it won’t work while I’m slathered in scent neutralizer.
“I’m absolutely open to adopting or using a surrogate, or if there was another person who could get pregnant in my pack, that could work.
And I’m more than happy to play pretend. ”
“Ruby, please.” My groan is pained, my cock now pressing insistently against the zipper of my pants, and my knot growing.
She lets out a delighted peal of laughter. “Sorry, I’ll try to behave.” Sipping her wine, she watches me with glittering eyes. “For the record, though, you sound good when you beg.”
I swallow hard, willing my erection to flag. “Noted.”
Ruby takes pity on me, moving the conversation to a less sexually charged topic.
We discuss our hobbies—she’s a gamer and I’m more of a book nerd, but we share a common enjoyment of fantasy worlds.
She tells me she volunteers at an omega clinic, which makes my time at the animal shelter seem silly in comparison, but she argues that it’s never silly to give help to those who don’t have anyone else looking out for them.
I discover that both her parents are Greek when she jokes about being the modern embodiment of Aphrodite after I compliment her style.
We discuss what would happen if there was a zombie apocalypse right now—we’d both fight and try to escape to safety, but decide my bum shoulder would eventually get me killed while trying to protect her and she’d think of me fondly while she’s waiting things out in a remote cabin in the mountains.
It’s the best goddamn date I’ve been on in my life. I don’t want it to end, and I guess she doesn’t either because we order dessert and coffee, lingering over them until there’s nothing left and the server brings the check.
“So…” I start, as the awkwardness and nerves creep in while I finish signing the receipt. I mentally examine every moment of the evening so far, picking them apart for clues about what to ask or say. “Thank you for having dinner with me. I had a really great time.”
Ruby smiles at me and nods, making a burst of butterflies fill my stomach. “Me too.”
There’s a weighted pause.
Just do it. Just ask her.
“Can I see you again some—”
“Do you want to go somewhere private?”
We speak at the same time, and my eyes bug out in surprise at her words.
Ruby snorts at my very unchill reaction. “Not like that, big guy. Well, maybe like that…depends on how we react to each other, I guess.” A flush rises on her cheeks. I’d think it was from the wine, but she only had one glass. “It might be good to check if we’re really scent matches,” she clarifies.
“Oh!” That makes more sense than her wanting to go somewhere and have sex. “That makes sense. Makes scents.”
I want to crawl under the table and die the second the horrible pun escapes my lips.
Ruby blinks at me for a second, then snort-giggles in a way that is so fucking charming I almost swoon. “Makes scents indeed,” she says, grinning at me.
I hate to ruin the fun, but my rejection-sensitive brain has to check why she wants to verify our match. “Would it change things if we aren’t scent matches? Is that the only reason you’re willing…”
She sobers, shaking her head adamantly and reaching across the table to touch my arm.
“No, not at all. I mean, I might be a little disappointed if we’re not magically fated to be together based on our particular brands of stink, but it wouldn’t change my interest.” She pauses.
“Unless you smell terrible. Then we’d have to figure something out. ”
I hadn’t even considered that possibility. There’s no universe in which this omega will smell bad to me. I know it intrinsically, and I think she does too, given how teasingly she brings it up.
“Alright. Good.”
“If you’re worried, we can go wash our scent glands off a bit in the bathroom and then meet outside? Hopefully, that won’t be enough for us to end up fucking in an alleyway if we are a match.” She doesn’t sound like she’s opposed to that at all, but it’s a good idea.
She’s so clever and funny and beautiful and…
She lets go of my arm. “Quit giving me those eyes and go wash up, stud. I’ll meet you outside in front of the restaurant.”
I resist the urge to joke that this is an unnecessarily elaborate way for her to ditch me here while I’m in the bathroom, because that would sound way too pathetic.
If she leaves, I’ll just…
Fuck, that intrusive thought sucks so much, and Beau of the past would’ve consoled himself with the promise of drowning his sorrow in whiskey.
I don’t want a drink, not really. I can handle it, and I have my therapist only a text away if it starts to feel like I can’t.
But sometimes it really sucks to know that you’re going to need to raw dog your emotions if things are bad.
Guess this is step one of trying to trust someone again. If anyone is worth trying for, it’s the captivating omega I’ve met tonight.
archer
“There you are. I was beginning to worry that you fell into the toilet.”
Damn. I lingered for so long in the bathroom, scrolling on my phone and fighting through another wave of stomach cramps, that I was half hoping he’d be gone by the time I emerged.
Oscar stands and pulls my chair out for me. It’s chivalrous, and maybe I’d find it sweet if I wasn’t feeling so weird, but all I can think is how he’s effectively forced me to rejoin him at the table.
It’s a lot harder to have the courage to tell him I need to go home when he’s pushing my chair back in for me. When he brushes the tips of his fingers against my waist as he moves away, it makes my stomach clench unpleasantly.
Please don’t let me get sick again.
Blessedly, the plate of oysters and assorted shellfish is gone, so at least I’m not having to fight away a gag reflex at the scent.
That’s nice of him to get rid of it. Maybe he’s fine and I’m overreacting to things. It wouldn’t be the first time. I’m programmed to be wary of alphas.
“Your color looks a little better,” Oscar says with a gentle smile. “I’m glad. I’m not ready for the night to end, are you?”
And there go the warning bells again.
“Uh, no, I guess not.”
The chiseled alpha across from me guffaws, his grin sharp. “It’s cute when you’re coy.”
Am I being coy? I thought I was serving uncomfortable and potentially coming down with a stomach flu, given the way sweat is beading on my brow and trickling down the back of my neck.
“Is it hot in here?” I ask, fanning myself with my hand.
That makes Oscar chuckle again. “It definitely feels like things are heating up.”
I barely suppress a groan, my stomach clenching again. “I’ve got to get out of here before I barf again,” I mutter under my breath.
He raises a brow at me. “You want to get out of here?” A sly smile curves across his lips. “I ordered you some pasta, but if you’re ready to move this somewhere else, who am I to say no?” Oscar drags his eyes up and down me, and I shudder.
Or shiver. Shit, I think I have a fever.
Oscar waves down the server, asking for the check, explaining that I’m “not feeling well” with a cheeky wink.
God, he’s either oblivious or very determined to get me to bed. Either option has my pulse quickening as he walks me out of the restaurant after the server finally came back with the check almost a full fifteen minutes later.
His palm rests possessively against my back. The cold night air against my feverish skin makes me release an involuntary moan, and suddenly I’m being backed up by the much larger man until my back hits a brick wall.
“Damn, omega, you’re desperate for it, aren’t you? You aren’t even trying to hide the scent of your slick.” He leans closer, eyes hungry.
I inhale and realize to my horror that yes, my perfume is filling the air between us.
“I’m not. It’s…I’m not feeling well, so I think I’ll go home. But thank you for dinner.”
I try to duck under his arm but he doesn’t let me, gripping my waist hard. “I know I said I liked you being coy, but don’t be a cocktease.”
The potential severity of the danger I’m in right now slams into my chest. I’ve practiced ignoring alpha barks since I was a pre-teen, so he most likely won’t be able to control me, but he’s still bigger and stronger.
I start to shake, lightheaded and overheated and terrified. It’s mortifying that my reaction isn’t to push him away and tell him to back off, but my omega is panicking, so I give him my best attempt at a shaky smile.
“I’m s-sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you.”
His smile is sharp and unkind. “That’s okay, omega. I know a way that you can make it up to me.” His body presses mine to the wall as he grips my ass so hard I cry out in pain, and grinds his erection against my stomach.
I turn my face away, eyes closing like I can shut this out. Like if I just let him do what he wants, it’ll be done faster and I can go home and lie down and cry.
“Get off of him.”
My eyes snap back open at the sound of a familiar, feminine voice.
Oscar doesn’t turn away, but he growls. “This is none of your business. He’s fine.”
“Are you fine?” The woman’s voice is sharp.
I can’t get my words to work. All that comes out is a tremulous whine.
Oscar glares at me and I brace myself for his anger, but instead he collapses to his knees, gripping his crotch with a pained howl.
“What the fuck?! You bitch!” Oscar reaches out to grab her, but she moves out of the way and kicks him in the crotch again while his hands are extended.
He collapses forward, and a petite hand wraps around my wrist, pulling gently. I look up from the heaving alpha on the pavement to see my savior.
My brain goes fuzzy at the sight.
She’s gorgeous. An avenging angel of wronged first dates, her pink and red curls framing a furious, beautiful face.
“Come on, sweetheart.” Her voice is soothing as she leads me back to the front of the restaurant. My legs wobble and my stomach roils as she guides me to a bench.
She helps me sit before I collapse, her plush body against mine making my cock stir and my perfume fill the air. I suck in a shaky breath and moan as the scent from before fills my nose.
It wasn’t the soap that smelled like candy hearts and heaven. It’s her.
“It’s you,” I gasp, fighting every urge inside me to climb into her lap and rub that scent all over me. “
“Ruby?” An unfamiliar voice, deep and raspy, echoes in the night air. I look up to see the alpha who bumped into me earlier. His mouth hangs agape.
I’d feel bad about climbing all over his date, since she seemed like she was having a good time, but she smells too good. This omega smells like mine.
I open my mouth to tell her, but the alpha steals the words from my lips.
“You’re my scent match.”