Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“You’ve been bailing out on me.”
Turning away from my work, I find my good friend, Bea, standing in the doorway.
She interned in the production department the summer before last, and now she works as a manager-in-training upstairs.
Her sass and outgoing personality make her easy to get along with.
We clicked during her internship and have been friends ever since, including getting lunch together twice a week now that her band isn’t on tour.
“Sorry, Chica, did I wound your cold heart?” I tease, slipping into my jacket and locking my studio door. No one would mess with my equipment, but I like to be overly cautious. My work is too important to me to risk someone fucking it all up.
Bea thumps my shoulder and rolls her eyes, leading me to the elevator bank so we can head out in search of food. “Oh, yes, I’m devastated. How will I ever survive a week without your scent singeing my nostrils?”
The sage in my natural scent, while faint, can be heightened for some Omegas, Bea being one of them. Not that she cares. To her, it means we aren’t compatible as more than friends. Which is good, because the only feelings that exist between us are familial.
“So, for real, what’s been up? I know you’ve been recording with Primordial Covenant and a few other bands, but your workload isn’t heavy enough to justify skipping lunch two weeks in a row.”
Shrugging, I step off the elevator after her and tuck my hands into my jacket pockets. “I met someone. Before you ask, I’m not sharing more than that. It’s too soon to know if things will work out.”
Her glare could shatter glass, but it isn’t nearly as terrifying as one from Mamá. I don’t flinch, so she pushes her lip into a pout. “Fine. Keep your secrets, and I’ll keep mine.”
My snort is loud in the lobby, drawing attention from the other staff as we pass them.
Bea enjoys gossiping about herself too much to keep a secret.
Thinking back, I remember seeing her climb into Mr. Acherley’s car and begin to believe she may have discovered a way to turn the filter on between her brain and mouth.
“Like whatever is going on with you and a certain budding silver fox upstairs?”
Bea growls, fists clenching at her sides.
“There is nothing going on between me and that asshole. I’ve been staying at his penthouse—not my fucking choice, by the way—because Omen’s asshole brother tried to break into our apartment.
My family decided that temporarily staying with Shiloh is in my best interest until he’s caught. ”
Well, that certainly isn’t in the lane of spicy I imagined. “Wait, Omen’s brother?! Why would he try to break into your place?”
“Because he’s a brainwashed fuck nugget?”
I mean, who can argue with that? He was raised in an anti-designation cult after all.
“Sorry you’re stuck in that situation. Hopefully, they’ll catch him soon.
” I tell her, opening the door to a local sandwich shop we like to eat at.
It’s lively, packed with employees from the many businesses nearby.
The wait is long, but it’s worth it when a gooey, decadent French dip sandwich slides onto the table.
We’re halfway back to the label when my phone vibrates with an incoming text.
Pulling it out of my pocket, I can’t hide my smile when I see Foster’s name on the screen.
He’s asking if I am free for our daily video chat.
I quickly text back, telling him I’ll call as soon as I get back into my studio.
Bea bumps into my shoulder, grinning at me. “Happy is a good look for you, Manny. I can’t wait to hear all about the person who’s captured your heart.”
The elevator drops me on the second floor, and I hurry to unlock my studio.
My phone is in my hands and connects as soon as the door shuts behind me.
“Buenas tardes, Galán.” Ever since meeting Foster, I’ve slipped into my family’s native language more often.
The way his eyes dilate, and perfume flows from his body, it’s obvious it turns him on.
“A good afternoon, indeed, Hot Stuff. Tell me about your day.”
Sitting in my chair, I prop the phone on my soundboard. Getting lost in our conversation is easy because talking to him feels effortless, even with topics as mundane as our days. My heart thumps rapidly in my chest, building a longing to see him that makes my fingers twitch toward my car keys.
“We’re house shopping.”
Mindlessly twisting the stud in my left ear, I consider the apartment he shares with other mates and their daughter.
He’d given me a tour one day while everyone else was out.
The two-bedroom space might seem cramped as they prepare for the new baby that is on the way.
“Do you enjoy looking for houses?” Imagining dealing with a realtor, home loans, inspections, and everything else that comes with moving is already too much for me. I’ll stay in my tiny apartment forever.
Unless they ask you to move in, my brain supplies. I don’t want to think about that. Having an anxiety attack mid video chat would be embarrassing as hell!
“I enjoy the thought of having enough space for all my mates and our children. The actual finding a house part isn’t nearly as fun.
” He chuckles, running his fingers over the mess of curls on his head.
I wish he were here, lying across my legs so that I could play with his hair instead.
Half-listening to his continued lamenting about house hunting, I study his stubbled jaw and soft skin.
I miss him. Enough so that it feels as if part of me is missing when we are apart.
Mierda, I think… I think I’m in love with him.
“Enough about houses,” he says, rolling onto his stomach so his face is closer to the camera.
He is in his nest, wrapped in black and gold silk.
The dark space is dreamy and luxurious, speaking to his need to be spoiled.
This Omega doesn’t require riches, he wants love, something he has told me many times over the past two weeks. “Are you free Saturday evening?”
Glancing at the physical copy of my calendar, I tell him I am.
“Come have dinner with us. You can meet Hannah and our princess, and I will get to show you how perfectly you fit into our pack.” Hope fills his aquamarine eyes as he bites his lip, a little nervous to ask me.
“I would love to meet your other mate and daughter,” I tell him, ignoring the flutter of anxiety in my stomach. That gives me three days to convince myself his affection for me is genuine.
Happiness lights up his face, bringing the brightest smile to his kissable lips. “The offer includes an overnight stay and a reunion with your beautiful cock.” He wiggles his eyebrows, playful but full of heat. I adore his lightheartedness; it meshes well with my go-with-the-flow attitude.
Someone knocks at the studio door. I glance at the time in the corner of my screen and curse beneath my breath. “Lo siento, Galán, it seems my next appointment is here. I’ll text you later, yeah?”
“Later, Hot Stuff!” He blows me a kiss and quickly ends the call, leaving me with warm cheeks and a stomach full of butterflies. I am so gone for that Omega.
“Come in!” I call out, bro-nodding when Pack Graves—otherwise known as the masked rock band Primordial Covenant—walk in.
“Manny! My favorite producer!” Nexus coos as he saunters in. This Alpha has killer vocals, but zero fashion sense. Like the banana-yellow jeans he’s paired with a hot-pink button-up blouse that’s undone down to his belly button. It’s blinding to look at.
“Ready to bust out the rest of this album?”
They all agree, taking seats around the room so we can get to work.
As they settle, a thought occurs to me. They bought a house a few months ago, so perhaps they can point me to a nice place in Starburgh.
If Foster and his pack move closer, I could see him more often.
My dick starts to harden in anticipation, and I have to recite my abuela’s Picarone recipe several times to stop myself from working at full mast.
“Hey, you wouldn’t know of any large houses for sale in the Starburgh area, would you?”
Nebula, the band’s bassist, raises a thick brow, surprised by the sudden question. “You moving out of your apartment building finally?”
Shaking my head, I explain it’s for a friend. He studies me, making me squirm in my seat with the intensity of his Alpha aura. “We do, actually. A house on our road was recently listed. Out by the lake.”
Biting back a grin, I slip into professional mode and shift our focus to their album. Perhaps I can help my Omega find his dream home after all.
I think I might pass out.
How ridiculous would that be? To faint in the elevator outside of Pack Wilson’s apartment.
Anxiety claws inside of body, whispering doubts in my ear and making my hands shake viciously. I should have called Mamá on the way here. Hearing her voice always helps to calm me.
The elevator stops on their floor, and I force myself to walk to their door. I can do this. I want to do this. To see Foster and meet his Beta. With a steadying breath filling my lungs, I raise my hand and knock.
Seconds later, the door swings open and I’m engulfed in a heavenly bouquet of lemons, bergamot, and cherries.
“You’re here!” Foster grabs my arm and pulls me inside, closing the door behind me.
I barely blink before he’s pressing his lips to mine, tongue darting out to lick along the seam.
My lips open for him, confused but appreciative of his neediness.
“Fates, I’ve missed you. Seeing your face on a video call isn’t the same as drowning in your white tea scent and tasting your skin with my tongue. ”
Pink tints his cheeks as he steps back, hand slipping into mine so he can drag me to their kitchen. I tug a little, stopping him long enough to let me slip my shoes off. He’s lucky his impatience is so cute.