Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Shiloh
I open the door to my studio apartment, finding my alpha dad looking at me with a small smile. He leans his hip against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Hi, Shiloh,” he says softly.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Are you busy? It’s okay if you are.”
“Someone call in sick?”
“You guessed it,” Dad says with a warm chuckle. He grabs my shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. “If you’re not busy, do you wanna come down and give me a hand?”
“I can. Let me get dressed and I’ll be down.”
“I’ll have a coffee and a breakfast sandwich waiting for you.”
“Thanks,” I say before closing the door behind him. I was planning on spending all day just lounging around so this is much more productive.
My trio of dads own the building I live in.
Downstairs is the location of their store which is a bakery and a coffee shop.
My alpha dad mans the blender, my beta father takes care of the coffee, and my omega dad locks himself away in the kitchen.
I take after my omega dad the most. We both hate people.
They also staff a handful of others, mostly college-aged kids who go to university and live in the nearby dorms. My dads are super flexible about hours, letting people work when it best suits their schedules.
Plus, they get free coffee and any of the leftover baked goods at the end of the night, knowing sometimes you just need a free meal while you’re in college.
Whenever someone calls in sick or they just need an extra hand, they come up here and ask me to come down.
So long as I don’t have anything going on, I never mind helping out.
They’ve never pressured me to actually join the shop full-time.
As much as I love them, I enjoy my free time. I like what I do now.
Which is fuck around mostly.
I have a handful of random ass jobs I do. Anywhere from refereeing, modeling gigs at the university, janitorial work, among other things. I don’t like adhering to a set schedule. I don’t like being tied down. I thrive off chaos. Or something.
Some people might think I have commitment issues and those people would be correct but also, they can fuck off.
After putting on a pair of jeans and a black polo, I dart down my stairs. At the bottom of the stairs are two doors. One goes to the outside which is the back of the building. The other door goes straight into the kitchen.
“Good morning, Shiloh,” my omega dad says, stopping what he’s doing and giving me a little wave.
“Morning!” I say back, going around the counter towards him. My omega dad is the shortest of my dads and I tower over him. I wrap an arm around his throat, hugging him from behind, and pretend to choke him. He makes a gurgling noise, like he’s dying and I can’t help but chuckle.
“It’s nice to see you. How’d that charity stream go? I haven’t seen you since then.”
“Really good,” I tell him as I pick up an apron from the shelf, putting it around my neck and then tying it around my waist. “We ended up raising almost a million dollars this year.”
“Jesus,” my dad says. “That’s incredible! Congrats, Shi.”
“Thanks. It was amazing. I’m really lucky to be a part of it.”
I walk over to the sink, washing my hands. When I turn around, my dad is watching me instead of going back to rolling the dough he was working on.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing,” he finally says. “Nothing I haven’t said before,” he adds on with a little smile. “Sometimes I worry about you, that’s all.”
“What’s there to worry about?”
“The usual.”
“Stop. Just because you’re older and ready to have a midlife crisis doesn’t mean I’m unhappy.”
My dad huffs, narrowing his eyes at me. “Asshole.”
“Takes one to know one.”
I leave the kitchen, smiling slightly as I hear my dad chuckle behind me. He’s always like this. He worries I’m too much like him, prickly and unfriendly. Somehow, he’s found two mates who adore him but he worries I won’t find the same, especially given my past. That’s fine. I don’t need anyone.
Hell, I don’t want anyone. Not for more than a night anyway.
“Hey,” I say, greeting my beta dad. “Busy this morning?”
“Hi, Shiloh. I’m glad you’re here,” he says, grabbing me and pulling me in so he can kiss my cheek. I pretend to grumble but he just smacks my shoulder. “It’s not too bad but I’m sure it’ll pick up soon. School just started so students will be here before class.”
“Do you want me on register or barista duty?”
It’s my alpha dad who answers. “Register please!”
Running the register is my least favorite job but that’s okay. I’m an adult. I’m more than capable of faking a smile and taking orders. If anyone orders anything stupid though, I can’t promise to tell them it’s stupid to their face.
I click my tongue ring against the back of my front teeth, an awful habit I should really try to break but it’s so satisfying to feel it click. After unlocking the register and clocking in, I lean against the counter, watching my dads whisper to each other.
They’d be really adorable if they weren’t my dads. Aren’t they getting a bit old to be whispering and blushing like that?
Maybe if I wasn’t so against love as a concept, I wouldn’t be so grossed out. Love is fine for others but it’s not something I ever want to experience again. Love gives the other person too much power over you and I’ll be damned if I let someone hurt me again.
Never. Again.
Other people can experience all the love they want and I’ll be content to simply watch it from the outside. If other people can stomach being vulnerable and open, kudos to them. Me? Stevey ruined that for me.
“Welcome in,” I say, throwing on my customer service persona. “What can we make for you today?”
“Can I get your dirty cake shake but can you please add two shots of espresso to it? And then I’d like the breakfast bagel, please.”
“You got it,” I say, typing it all out on the register before giving the guy a total. He quickly pays, adding a tip on top. “Thanks. Can I get your name?”
“Ralph.” I write his name on the ticket before sticking it on the back counter for my dads to start making.
“We’ll call you when it’s done.”
The morning goes by quickly, a flood of college kids coming in and grabbing caffeine and food before their classes. There’s a few people who order and then sit at tables with their laptops or books.
Around noon, one of our workers comes in, practically bouncing as he goes.
“Hey, Aspen.”
“Hi! Shiloh! I didn’t know you were still working here! One of these times I’ll be back from summer break and you’ll be gone.”
“Someone called in sick this morning,” I tell him.
“Don’t say that,” my beta dad says quickly, clutching his chest dramatically. “Shiloh will never leave us. Right?”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
Aspen just giggles as he takes his stuff into the back, grabbing himself an apron and washing his hands.
He’s always loud and overly exciting which the customers seem to love.
He always makes way more tips than any of the rest of us.
He takes the time to remember people’s names and orders. He’s good at this job.
He comes back with a giant grin, pushing me away from the register so he can clock in and take over.
I’ve always thought Aspen was handsome. He’s got a great smile, huge gray eyes, and the prettiest white and black hair that has a natural curl to it.
I have no idea if he’s just gone white really early or if he dyes it like that but it suits him.
Aspen is some sort of omega shifter and omegas just don’t do it for me.
Not that it matters anyway. I would never fuck someone who works for my family. That sounds like the worst type of drama ready to happen.
“Hi, Foxy!” Aspen says with a grin. “It’s so good to see you again! Did you miss me while I was on summer break?”
Foxy chuckles softly. She’s usually grumpy but even she is soft for Aspen. I’m almost jealous of the way he manages to melt even the most icy people. Even me, a self proclaimed asshole, can’t help but be nice to him.
Maybe he’s some sort of siren pretending to be a shifter.
No, that makes no sense.
I fall into making drinks next to my dads. The three of us work well together, smoothly moving from drink to drink. It might be rush hour but we’ve been doing this for years and everything is made quickly and efficiently, while we banter back and forth.
My dads were there when everything fell apart with Stevey.
They probably saved my life if I’m honest with myself.
They saw me at my very worst, nursed me back to health when I was going through pining sickness and rejection syndrome.
The day I finally moved into the loft upstairs was probably really scary for them.
They didn’t wanna take their eyes off of me.
Things are better now.
But just because they’re better, doesn’t mean I’m ready for a repeat of that.
“It’s nice having you here,” my alpha dad says, squeezing my shoulder. “Feels like the good old days when you worked here full time with us.”
“That was hectic,” I say, shaking my head. “We’d always just take the leftover bakery stuff home and eat that for dinner before passing out.”
“Who knew people would love this place as much as they do,” my beta dad says softly, his eyes shining.
“Absolutely not,” I say quickly, shoving him. “We are not getting emotional right now! I’m asking dad for some food and taking a break.”
“You can just clock out,” my alpha dad says with a smile. “Thank you again for the help. We really appreciate it.”
“Any time,” I tell him, going over to the register and clocking out. Then I move into the kitchen and take my apron off. “Can you make me a spinach omelet with a toasted bagel?”
“You got it, Shiloh.”
The coffee from this morning was mostly forgotten so I grab it now and pour it into a mug before popping it into the microwave to warm it back up. I sip at it as I wait for my lunch.
I sit here, comfortable with the silence between my dad and I. I like that we’re so similar. I like that we can just enjoy the silence together. I like that he understands how I feel about everything that’s happened. I like that he’s a bit of an ass, just like me.
“Here you go,” he says, handing me a basket with my food inside. “You can take it upstairs, just remember to bring the basket back when you’re done.”
“Thank you,” I say, moving towards the back door. “Love you!”
“Love you too, Shiloh.”
I bring my stuff upstairs to my loft, closing the door behind me. Then I set it down at my table, pulling out my phone so I can scroll while I eat. Dad did an amazing job with the food, just like always.
There’s just something really comforting about food made by your parents.
I take a huge bite as I open social media, only to start choking as I suck in a sharp breath. I turn to the side, coughing and sputtering, trying to get myself under control.
“Fuck,” I breathe out, patting my own chest. “Jesus Christ.”
When I finally have myself under control, I look at my phone again. Fuck. That motherfucker.
Suga posted a picture on his social media, letting everyone know he won’t be streaming for a while as he’s sick. I already knew that. The dipshit always gets sick after the charity stream because he runs himself ragged. It’s like clockwork.
He’s got a blanket over his head, looking absolutely miserable. That’s not the part I’m freaked out about. No. The part that has my heart racing and my stomach feeling like I might toss up my omelet is the fact that Suga is wearing my hoodie.
What the hell was I thinking including that in my stupid care package? Fucking hell. I’m such an idiot.
Part of me hoped that he’d see it, smell it, and be disgusted.
I know he’s got hyperosmia, or a really, really strong sense of smell.
Maybe if he smelled me on my hoodie and then made fun of my scent, I would be able to get over this weird crush I have on the streamer.
Maybe I was hoping for some sort of sign he’s not interested so I could stop having these feelings.
Just because he’s hot and I like how mean he is, doesn’t mean I’m interested.
Just because I kinda wanna fuck him, doesn’t mean I want anything more than that.
I run my fingers through my hair, tugging on the strands with a groan. Why are my feelings so complicated? I told myself I’d never let this happen again. I told myself I was done with love.
Why can’t I just be done with Suga as well?