The Next Day #2
“Alright,” Knox says as he takes the pillow from Skyla, placing it in the overflowing cart. “How about sheets?” Knox asks her as he pulls out his phone. “Do you need sheets?”
“Ours are pretty old,” Tadeo says as he reaches out, curling one of Skyla’s long curls around his finger. The omega leans a little closer to him, clearly liking his touch.
“They probably have some good deals on sheets,” Skyla says brightly as she picks up the sequined pillow again, showing us the red sticker on the tag. “See? Even the bunny is on clearance.”
“It’s an ass,” I mumble, and Alex wheezes a laugh beside me.
Skyla narrows her eyes at me, sticking out her tongue.
Thankfully, Knox doesn’t yell at us this time.
He’s frowning at his phone, thumb scrolling.
Finally, he speaks up, voice a little distracted.
“We’ll need a waterproof mattress cover.
Slick-resistant sheets. And some… post-rut ointment.
” His tone slows like he’s struggling to read fine print.
“It soothes and heals the chafing that can occur along an omega’s vaginal opening after a prolonged rut. ”
The voices in the aisle beside us go dead silent, and I swear I can feel half the store holding its breath.
“Dude.” Alex leans in, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m pretty sure there are kids in here. Cool it on the ‘vaginal opening’ talk.”
Knox shoots the red-haired alpha a look, clearly unbothered. Skyla, on the other hand, ducks her head, a shy smile tugging at her flushed face before she spins back toward the bedding aisle—suddenly very invested in a stack of beige flannel sheets.
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. She looks torn between giggling and crawling into that pile to disappear entirely. Knox, of course, is oblivious—or pretending to be.
We find the omega medical supplies, and less than twenty minutes later, the cart’s loaded down with every boring thing on Knox’s list. Alex disappears to grab another cart, laughing that we’re gonna need a U-Haul to get everything home.
Knox, of course, just keeps going, tossing in post-heat pain relievers, heating pads, and something called bonding cloths. I lean over the side of the cart and read the description.
Help your omega snuggle in comfort. These soft, scent-holding squares are designed to wrap your omega in the familiar warmth of the pack for a deeper, peaceful sleep.
Finally, Knox grabs a little black box with the words “Scent Booster” printed on the side. Then he gives a firm nod, “I think that’s everything on my list.”
I expect Skyla to go red again, but she doesn’t. Instead, she leans over the side of the cart, fingers brushing the package like she’s not sure it’s real. And then she smiles, clearly touched by all these basic things.
What kind of fucking alphas did she have before?
By the time we finally roll into the clothing aisles, Skyla’s smile has turned manic again. It’s like watching a kid turned loose in a candy store.
Our omega doesn’t browse the clothing—she dives straight into it.
Every hanger she touches turns into a possibility: denim jackets, sundresses, oversized hoodies, even a sequined crop top that looks like it crawled straight out of a music video from twenty years ago.
It doesn’t matter if it’s her style or not—she’s trying it all.
“I’m not sure what size I am.” Skyla checks the label of a powder-blue top, worry flickering across her face.
“They’ve got dressing rooms in the back,” Tadeo says, nodding toward the far corner of the store. “You can try everything on if you want.”
“Everything?” she asks, eyes bright.
“Everything,” I say, stepping forward before she can protest. I take the growing pile of clothes from her arms, balancing jackets, dresses, and tops against my chest until I can barely see over the stack. “You pick, I’ll carry.”
Her laugh is soft but real, lighter than anything else in this store. She hands off the last of the clothes, then turns toward Tadeo, brushing his chest as she leans in—unthinking, instinctive. He steadies her, their eyes meeting for a quick second, something quiet and warm passing between them.
I shift the armful of clothes against my chest and grin. “You two gonna move, or should I start charging rent?”
“Sorry.” Skyla laughs, soft and breathy.
“Knox,” Tadeo grabs our pack alpha’s attention. “You coming?”
Knox scans the racks, his brow furrowed, clearly not paying attention to us. “She’s gonna need slick panties,” he mutters, half to himself, half to us. Then he looks around like he’s hunting a damn exit strategy—or the intimates section, whichever comes first.
“There,” I say, nodding my head toward the other side of the store, but he’s already moving—big shoulders cutting that cart around the racks like he owns the place.
Alex rolls up a second later with a new cart, all business.
“Here.” He pulls the pile of clothes out of my arms and dumps them in the buggy.
“I’m gonna check the protein powders real quick,” he says to Tadeo, then he’s gone before I can blink, disappearing down an aisle like the place might explode if he lingers.
And just like that, it’s me, Tadeo, and Skyla—her mountain of clothes spilling everywhere, her scent all soft and sugar-sweet. She’s all bright eyes and easy smiles as she grabs a few more items.
Tadeo looks like he’s standing guard at the gates of heaven and hell at once. Hands shoved deep in his pockets, jaw tight, pretending like he’s not watching the way she holds every soft thing up to her cheek, nuzzling it.
I elbow him lightly. “You good there, man?”
He doesn’t answer. Just exhales, slow, like maybe he’s trying to keep from combusting.
And Skyla? She laughs again, twisting in front of another mirror as she holds up a pretty summer dress.
If this place sold oxygen bottled with her laugh in it, we’d all be broke by now.