Chapter 36 Ryder #2
Impatiently, I hovered in the open doorway growing angrier by the second when the delivery car didn’t appear.
One fucking street away shouldn’t take five minutes.
My natural musk shifted and soured, transforming in response to my irritation.
My nose crinkled, the usual Cuban cigar top notes now rancid cigarettes crumpled into an ash tray.
Middle note cinnamon was completely erased.
The normally rich, bourbon base notes had gone cheap too.
Our pack therapist’s voice ghosted to life in my head.
Breathe deeply. Focus on filling your lungs completely, hold that life-affirming oxygen for five heartbeats, then slowly exhale until you feel empty.
Now imagine the tension leaving your body.
You’re taking a shower, warm and wet. It’s washing the pain and anger and anxiety away inch by inch.
Begrudgingly, I closed my eyes and went through the steps. I was always surprised when it started working. My spine relaxed. The tightness in my neck eased. My hands unclenched, falling limply to my sides.
When I parted my lashes, a transit van was pulling into the curved driveway. The bistro’s logo largely splashed on its white surface.
I jumped down the steps, eager to intercept the delivery before the driver could even get out.
The van rolled to a stop, its brakes squeaking with protest so sharply that I cringed.
As I rounded the front of it, the driver door opened and a Beta kid—probably no more than eighteen with hot pink hair and wide rimmed glasses—stepped out.
I clocked the name tag quickly, along with the pronouns.
“Morning delivery for Hendrix?” They asked, seeming a little taken back by my hasty approach. “I could have brought it to the door. Most people like me to just leave it and ring the bell.”
Cocking a thumb at the house, I made an excuse. “My pack is terrifying when hangry.”
“Gotcha. I delivered to a literal brawl last month. One Alpha crashed through a window and scared the shit out of me.” They shivered dramatically.
“All my friends want to be Alphas or Omegas and I’m just like…
why? You guys smell better, but you’re also fucking crazy.
” The Beta slammed their lips together, eyes popping wide.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean that. Please don’t complain to the restaurant.
If I get one more demerit, I’m going to lose my job. ”
I grinned at them, amused. It wasn’t often I met a Beta who was content being… well…Beta. “No sweat, kid. Sometimes, I’d trade places with you.”
They guffawed. “Bullshit. The only thing more annoying than a Beta desperately wishing to be something better is an Alpha pretending they’re not cream of the crop.” The Beta whirled around, padding to the back of the van. They pulled open the double doors and then sorted through insulated bags.
“I’ve got two bags, a total of eighteen items. That sound about right?
” They asked, coming back into view, holding the large totes higher.
Their hair had fallen over their eyes. I’d have to tell Dixon I missed the flamingo pink streaks in his hair.
He’d sported them for a few months last year before bleaching them back out.
“Yeah, that’s right.” I nodded.
“Great. You’ve ordered before, so you probably know the deal.
If you return these bags next time you get delivery or come by the restaurant, you’ll get a five-buck discount.
” The Beta closed the gap between us and handed me the food.
“Have a great day now, Mister I don’t want to be the most respected secondary sex. ”
“Maybe I should legally change my name,” I shrugged, playing along.
“You do that. I can’t wait to see it on a delivery slip.” They shoved their large glasses into place with one finger—that finger, hilariously enough—and slid back into the van, cranking the engine and shifting into gear.
I headed back into the house, still entertained. Not only had the Beta failed to recognize me, but they’d roasted me in a way most Betas would never dare.
When I pushed inside the mansion, still smirking, I decided that I was going to try and go with the flow.
I was facing the realization of everything I’d hoped for and instead of being fucking thrilled, I kept spiraling.
Turning over a new leaf always sounds so easy.
I could do it though. I was even egoistical enough to think it would be a cake walk.
Yet when I turned the corner into the living room to head towards the kitchen, I came face-to-face with Tessa—hair soaking wet, donning a casual outfit, standing on tiptoes as she stared out the closed patio doors towards the pool.
God. Help. Me.
My body began to harden. My stomach clenched with need. My Alpha instincts wanted to drop the takeout bags and claim her immediately.
“Tessa,” I breathed out her name like a prayer. She turned slowly, a tentative smile spreading her lovely pink lips.
“So... the bath is the best ever.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
She tucked a damp curl behind her ear and then fiddled with the hem of the shirt nervously.
“I could have stayed in it all day, but...” Her arms wrapped around her middle now, as if she were unsure what to do with her body. I understood how she felt.
“Mac picked the bath when we were renovating,” I blurted it out, then mentally kicked myself for mentioning one of the other guys. I wanted her to think about me. Focus on me. Want me. We stared at one another, both of our tongues tied.
“I’m starving,” she finally admitted with a little up and down bob of her shoulders.
“Perfect timing,” I managed, lifting the takeout bags into view. “Food just came.”
“Perfect timing.” She nodded, eyes sparkling.
As expected, Mac had shifted all the junk out of the dining space, cleaned up, and used the better dishes.
He’d done it so quickly, that I wondered where he’d shoved all the shit.
If I had to guess though, opening the hidden storage behind the built-in shelves would start an avalanche.
Once Tess and I had entered the sunny dining room with the food, she’d lost a little of her sparkle.
She was scared but also brave enough to take a chance and slip out of her safe haven to explore.
Even if she raced back into her shell now and then, the fact that she was willing to exit it at all gave me hope.
“It’s really bright in here,” she said, trying to force cheer into her voice.
“The last owner used it as a paint studio I think.” I pulled out one of the chairs and set the insulated bags down before unzipping them. The minute I did, glorious smells flooded the air. Tessa’s stomach growled loudly.
“That smells amazing.” She slipped over to me, feet soundless against the floor, and stared down into the bags.
“Beats cold French fries,” I smiled down at her. What was it about women with wet hair? It was so damn sexy.
“I’m not picky,” she stood up quickly, backing a few steps away and locking eyes with me. “Honestly, you guys don’t have to buy fancy food. We could,” she bit her lip, worrying at the skin for a while as she thought, “like go to the grocery store and just pick normal stuff.”
I pulled the first few containers out, removing their tops and placing them in the table’s center.
“That’s silly. We have a service that shops for us.
And money isn’t a problem.” I shrugged, snagging two more items. A brown bag full of chocolate croissants and a steamed-up plastic box.
That one was crepes. “I think we’ve only shopped for ourselves once in the last couple years.
I wouldn’t even know what to do in a store.
” It was no big deal, easiest thing in the world.
My words seemed to suck the air out of the room though.
I turned to look at her. She’d backed up against the wall between two of the large windows. She cupped her right elbow with her left hand and her whole body had slumped. Her eyes were trained on the floor.
“What’s wrong? What did I say?” I moved to her, bending down and trying to make eye contact. She looked so small like this, so vulnerable.
“It’s just that… to me…” She swallowed hard, still staring at the hardwoods. “To me going grocery shopping sounds amazing. Walking through an actual store with a cart… not trying to find something edible in the trash behind it, seems like heaven.”
“Oh,” I said stupidly. Fuck, I was a moron. When was I going to think before I spoke? She’d been through so much bullshit, and I kept making it harder for her.
Before I could say something to make it better, Dixon entered.
He moved uncharacteristically slow, the expression on his face looking like he was holding his damn breath.
His large, beefy hands held a giant glass vase topped by a ridiculously large bouquet of yellow and pink roses.
His arms were lifted so the flowers stretched out in front of him like they weren’t harmless blooms, but instead a beehive that might attack at any second.
Knowing Dixon, he was scared to drop the damn thing before he could deliver.
I lifted an eyebrow. None of us had talked about ordering flowers.
When he stopped in front of Tessa, his large body making me sidestep out of the way, Dixon smiled. His face was bright, innocent hope glinting in his gaze.
“These are for you,” he told Tessa, blush creeping into his cheeks.
“I wasn’t sure what your favorite flower was, but I figured roses are safe.
I know that red roses mean love,” he gulped, “but I asked the florist what color meant happy. I know it’s too early for love, but it’s not too soon to say I’m happy you’re here. ”
Tessa blinked down at the flowers, then up at Dixon. Her own face softened with a gentle smile, and she raised one small hand to cup his large face. “Thank you. I haven’t gotten flowers since…” she paused, thinking. “My tenth-grade dance recital.”