Chapter 3
Chapter Three
SAWYER
The redheaded beta sitting across from me at the candlelit table is beautiful, intelligent, and funny.
And I feel nothing for her.
We’ve gone out a few times, and while the conversation is great, some part of me seems to have decided that isn’t enough anymore.
Which is inconvenient, since none of my packmates have expressed any interest in settling down.
The last time someone brought it up, Hayes laughed and asked if any of us were ready to become daddies.
That shut the conversation down real fast.
Maybe I’m coming down with something? Is there some version of the flu that affects your sex drive?
Because I’m pretty sure Aubree could strip down naked right here in the middle of the restaurant and my dick wouldn’t so much as twitch.
Which is why I’m looking around the dining room, people watching, while I pay only partial attention to my date.
It’s a dick move, I know it is, but fuck if I can help it.
She’s talking about some memo her boss sent out at the marketing firm where she works when my eyes snag on a familiar face.
One I haven’t seen in at least six or seven years.
A face I knew when she was a toddler, running around in a diaper with messy hands and pigtails that stood straight up in the air like Boo from Monsters, Inc.
A face I watched change, losing baby fat as she grew into a quiet, awkward kid who trailed around after her brother and me as often as we’d let her, and then a gangly, awkward teenager.
She’s definitely not gangly anymore.
I watch as Olivia, my best friend Henry’s younger sister, walks, chin down and eyes on the floor, into the dining room of Savour.
She looks beautiful—if a bit too made up for my taste—in a pink dress that accentuates curves she definitely didn’t have the last time I saw her.
Her heart-shaped face is covered in entirely too much makeup, but not even all the layers of foundation can hide the golden glow of her skin.
I can’t decide if I want those cinnamon eyes to look up and meet mine, or if I’d rather remain unnoticed so I can observe Liv Wellington like a total creeper.
I hum a noncommittal sound to Aubree as she prattles on about her boss and watch as Liv introduces herself to a smarmy-looking pack of entitled assholes.
She appears decidedly uncomfortable, and it’s all I can do to keep myself from texting Henry to find out who these guys are and what his sister is doing with them.
I may not have seen Liv since she graduated from high school, but she can’t have changed enough to want to date guys like this. It’s a theory that holds more weight as I listen to the idiots introduce themselves, then try to comprehend what it means to be an endocrinologist.
Fucking morons.
“Sawyer? Are you even listening to me?”
Pulled out of my spying by Aubree’s annoyed tone, I smile sheepishly. “Sorry, Aubs. I saw someone I used to know.”
My date's eyes wander to Liv’s table, and her nose scrunches. “Pack Johnson? You know those guys?”
Pack Johnson, huh? Well, that’s the perfect name for a bunch of dickheads. “No, not them, the woman. She’s my friend’s younger sister. Haven’t seen her in years.”
“Oh. I heard they’ve been trying to find their omega, but I didn’t believe it. Those guys will sleep with anyone with two brain cells to rub together and a halfway decent pair of boobs. Is she theirs?”
My stomach lurches at the idea of Liv belonging with the pack of rich pricks a table over.
Which is stupid, because I don’t even know her anymore.
Haven’t spoken to her in years. “I don’t think so,” I reply, my gaze steady on the side of Liv’s face.
She’s seated slightly facing away from me, which is the only reason I’m able to watch her so openly.
I listen as one of the pack members tries to order for her and grin when she shuts him down. It seems time has stiffened Liv’s spine. She’d always been so pliant, always caving to her mother’s whims.
Aubree does her best to draw me back into conversation, and it works for a moment. Until I overhear another snippet of conversation between Liv and the dickheads.
“So, Olivia, what do you like to do for fun?” There’s a sexual lilt to the words, and my eyes fly to Liv’s back.
She twists a curled strand of dark hair around her finger and says, “Um, when I was living in London, I loved to walk along the Thames. There were so many cute shops, and you can’t beat the people watching.”
The doofuses around her all shift in their seats and exchange incredulous looks. Liv doesn’t even seem to notice.
“I also loved exploring the museums. There’s so much history in the UK that we just don’t have here, and getting to see so many anthropological finds in their country of origin was really cool.
” Her voice pitches higher and her speech speeds up, like she’s getting excited.
“And the ruins. I took a few weekend trips to Ireland and Scotland, and oh my gosh, walking through castle ruins and graveyards from the 1800s was amazing. Like stepping back through time. It definitely turned me into an Outlander fan. I binge-watched that show while I was living in London too . . .” She trails off with an awkward laugh.
I smile like an idiot at the nerves lacing the sound.
I forgot how epically Liv can ramble once you get her started on a topic she likes.
It annoyed the hell out of Henry, but I always thought it was cute.
Judging by the unimpressed expressions of the Johnson pack, they’re not charmed. Fuck those guys.
One of the alphas clears his throat. “Museums, huh? That sounds . . . interesting.”
“Yeah, but what do you do for fun?” another asks. “Like clubbing or going to bars and shit like that.”
Liv shifts in her seat. “Uh, I don’t . . . I don’t like crowds. And I don’t really go clubbing.”
There’s a beat of silence while the pack shares incredulous looks before one of them says, “I bet you’d like clubbing with us, omega. We’ll take you after dinner.”
Liv opens her mouth, a frown creasing her forehead, but the dickhead keeps talking.
“So, your mom told our dads you’re ready to settle down, find your pack, and take care of your alphas. When are you planning on quitting your job? Before or after you’re officially mated?”
That furrow in Liv’s brow deepens, and I’m not even pretending to pay attention to Aubree anymore.
I should feel bad about that, but the sweet, awkward girl that followed me around as a kid and acted like I hung the moon is sitting one table over, growing increasingly uncomfortable by the second.
Something heavy and possessive settles in my chest. Like I need to protect her from these guys.
Save her honor or some shit. That’s what Henry would want me to do.
Right, definitely has nothing to do with the fact that she turned into an absolute smoke show.
Liv clears her throat. “I’m not sure what my mother said, but I’m not looking to settle down, and I’m definitely not planning to quit my job.
Not now, not if I do meet my pack, and not ten years from now, even if I have kids.
What I do is . . . important.” Her voice wavers slightly, but her spine is straight and head held high.
It’s nice to see she won’t let a pack push her around.
“Sawyer,” Aubree snaps, her voice hard.
I flinch as she swats my arm.
“Sawyer.”
I wave her off. “Shh.”
“I’m out of here, you absolute ass,” I hear Aubree hiss.
Fuck. Guess our date is over. Maybe I should care more, but all I do is nod in acknowledgement, solely focused on what’s happening one table over.
Aubree huffs. “Prick.”
She’s right. I’m being a total dick, but I can’t bring myself to care right now because instead of accepting what Liv said, the limp-dicked idiots surrounding her question her choice.
“But you’re a nurse. Wouldn’t you be just as happy caring for a pack as you are caring for sick people?”
I have to fight against the growl that starts vibrating in my chest. How stupid are these guys? I’ve heard a bit about what Liv has done. There’s nothing wrong with being a nurse, but when she’s specifically let them know that she’s doing research, which is distinctly different, it’s insulting.
“I—I, no.” She clears her throat and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I wouldn’t be happier taking care of a pack.
I love my work. And, for the record, I’m not a nurse .
. .” Liv’s stammering gives away her fury.
Some people shout when they get angry, some people cry, but Liv?
She always got a bit tongue-tied and shaky when rage overtook her as a kid. Seems that, at least, hasn’t changed.
One of the alphas at the table scoffs and turns to the man beside him. “This is a waste of time. I know our dads would love us to cozy up with Wellington’s daughter, but I’m fucking bored already, and our food hasn’t even arrived yet. I bet she gives terrible head too.”
I don’t miss the way Liv’s shoulders curl inward, and my whole body heats with building rage.
The second alpha sighs, eyeing Liv up with a scowl. “Yeah. We need a good omega. Someone who won’t babble about shit no one cares about when we’re out in public. Someone who understands the importance of taking care of her pack.”
As if any of these dim-witted fuckheads are even half as interesting as Liv.
When her chin drops to her chest and her shoulders shake like she’s sniffling and trying to hold back tears, I lose the battle with my composure.
Rising with so much force that my chair scrapes against the parquet floors, I cross the space between us in four long strides and come to a stop behind her.
The six dickless wonders scowl up at me as a growl finally breaks free from the confines of my chest.
“Liv, baby, there you are.”