10
hannah
I go back and forth about bringing Ellis to dinner so many times that I’m not even sure that I’ve landed on bringing him when we are walking up to the door. I’m not sure that it’s not the worst idea I’ve ever had.
I’m reeling from the knowledge he’s bonded.
He shouldn’t have left his alphas after they bit him.
Omegas don’t do that. If they have a bond, if they’ve bitten him, there are things that are traveling through that bond, little bits of emotions, sensations, all sorts of things.
His alphas can probably feel it when he’s fucking me, at least a little.
Or, who knows, maybe they are actively working to block him out, because he left them and broke their hearts.
I don’t know, but it’s yet another sign that there is nowhere to go with Ellis. I have known that since he showed up outside my door soaking wet a few nights ago, of course, but sometimes, it feels like there’s a little hope, and then I realize, actually, no, there is not.
Why did he say that thing about the thing with us happening?
Why?
He likes putting makeup on me, not that it makes much difference, really. He doesn’t put a lot on me, so it’s very understated, but I just look like me, you know, me with very understated makeup on. So, it’s not as if I actually look good.
Maybe I’m being stupid about this, because I guess I’m not ugly or anything.
Obviously, sometimes I look in the mirror and try to convince myself that I’m pretty, that I’m the kind of pretty that would make someone notice me, that would mean I stand out, that kind of thing.
And sometimes, I can believe it.
But usually, I know that I’m just average.
Sometimes I read Jane Austen novels, and in them, they don’t say that girls are “ugly,” they say “plain.”
That’s what I am.
Plain.
Like vanilla.
Fine, as far as it goes, but just serviceable. Just good enough. Boring.
He made us take another picture and he put it on his Instagram, with a caption about how he’s going to eat dinner with my parents, which is a bad idea because my mother is going to see it and freak out, and it really forces her hand.
If she turns him away, it will make her look bad to all of his Instagram followers.
Speaking of which, I don’t even know why he has so many followers on Instagram, not if his little modeling career was so private and invite-only.
Anyway, in this picture, it’s seriously like Bella and Edward.
It’s just like, in New Moon, when she looks at a picture of the two of them together, and he’s dazzlingly attractive, and she’s just normal-looking.
It’s just like when she’s contemplating how he’s too beautiful to even be with her or whatever, because he’s a vampire and she’s just a girl.
But it’s clear why Edward likes Bella. It’s because he can’t read her mind.
I don’t have a special ability like that, though.
There is no reason why Ellis would ever actually like me.
The picture of us looks like he’s a celebrity, posing with some idiot fan who only gets to touch something this attractive because she’s paid for a ticket.
It’s insanity.
My dad answers the door. He takes in Ellis and just shakes his head.
“Evening, Mr. Wihlbilt,” says Ellis, offering my dad his hand. “It’s been a while.”
My dad takes Ellis’s hand and gives it a very firm shake. “It has been a while, and you’ve got a lot of nerve.”
“Do I?”
My dad is still holding onto Ellis’s hand. “What do you think you’re doing with my daughter?”
Ellis grins, looking at me. “Well, I don’t have to tell you how great she is.”
My father narrows his eyes.
“I know things with Hannah and me started out odd,” says Ellis. “But I spent the weekend with her, and she’s, um, she’s…” He looks at me and that affectionate look comes over him. “She’s pretty amazing.”
My father lets go of Ellis’s hand. He folds his arms over his chest.
Ellis turns back to my father, smiling.
My father raises his eyebrows at me.
I shrug.
Me and my dad are the betas in the house. We’ve always been united against the absolute punch of make-it-happen-ness that is my mom and brother. As alphas, they’re assertive and confident and take-no-prisoners, and, well, dramatic.
“I want to talk to you alone, Hannah-banana,” says my dad.
Of course he called me that in front of Ellis. Of course.
Ellis grins at me in a very upsetting way. If he asks me if he can call me Hannah-banana in bed?
No.
My mother calls from the den, “Ice is getting warm. Get in here. Drinks at 6:30, I said, didn’t I?”
“It’s 6:28,” I call back.
My dad laughs, ushering us into the den.
My mother and Andrew are both on their feet, holding glasses.
So, what’s my family’s house like? It’s, you know, what might be called a mansion, I guess.
Most of the money in the family is inherited from my great-grandfather’s business, but my father has added to the family wealth with his business, which is not the same business.
My grandfather sold my great-grandfather’s business and basically just lived it up.
I have a lot of half-aunts and half-uncles, because my grandfather was not even a little faithful to my grandmother.
He’s dead now. Complications with his heart. Too much cocaine, basically.
Anyway, the house is big, two stories, with grounds and tennis courts and a formal dining room (we won’t eat there tonight, though, because it’s huge). We don’t have servants, like I said, well, not full-time servants.
The dinner tonight? My mother will have ordered lots of it ready-made from various places.
She may have made the salad. My dad probably made the dinner rolls.
My dad has a thing about bread. He likes to make bread, but I think it’s mostly because it’s this process, bread.
You mix it, you let it sit, you punch it down, you let it sit.
I don’t really know how it works, but you can’t rush bread.
It takes time. My dad likes things like that, things that can’t be rushed.
“Well, you brought him,” says my mother, shaking her head. “Why didn’t I even consider this happening?”
Ellis smiles at her. “Good to see you again, Joni.”
“Last time we spoke, your parting words to me were that you had defiled my daughter,” says my mom. “You remember that?”
I wince.
My father coughs.
Ellis squares his shoulders. “That was not my finest hour, agreed.”
“Do you have a finest hour?” says my mother. “Can you point to a time when I can see you at your best, Ellis?”
Ellis flinches, his gaze flitting away.
“I have already seen firsthand what you did to Calliope,” says my mother, taking a sip of her drink. “And now you’ve moved on to my youngest child?”
“That’s not fair,” I say, and I probably shouldn’t be defending him, but it really isn’t fair. “It’s not all him. He and Calliope do things to each other.”
“She’s not wrong, Mom,” says Andrew in a defeated voice. “It’s not as if Callie would be just fine if he weren’t around.”
“Isn’t it, though?” My mother gestures with her drink. “Isn’t that exactly what happened? He left, and she was fine.”
“After she had a breakdown that lasted nine months,” says Andrew, glaring at our mother.
My father clears his throat. “What would you two like to drink?”
Drinks proceed uncomfortably, and I am beginning to feel very certain that it was a bad idea to bring Ellis, who is mostly quiet during everything. I think he’s afraid of my mom, and I guess I can see why. My mom can be intimidating.
My mother and father seem to be trying to divide us so that my mother can talk to me alone, but I refuse to leave Ellis by himself with either of them.
Finally, loudly, I say to my mother, “Look, I get it that we’re worried about Andrew’s marriage, but it is not my fault he decided to marry Calliope.
She is the problem here. She decided to marry Andrew when she knew she was never going to stop feeling whatever she feels about Ellis. Ellis isn’t married to anyone.”
Ellis clears his throat. “Well, in fairness to Callie, I did leave. And she wouldn’t have thought I was ever coming back.”
“Why did you come back?” says my mother to Ellis.
“He got bitten,” I say.
Ellis rounds on me, annoyed.
“Sorry,” I say to him. “I shouldn’t have shared that. You didn’t want me to know. I’m guessing you don’t want anyone to know.”
“You have an alpha?” says Andrew hoarsely to Ellis. “Does she know?”
Ellis shakes his head.
“Can you tell her?” says Andrew.
Ellis shoots me a look I can only term venomous.
I realize he’s never been angry with me before, and the fear that rushes through me is intense. I feel, immediately, that I need to soothe him somehow before he decides to retaliate against me.
But I don’t know what to do.
I get quiet as we finish our drinks and my mother shows us all into the dining room. I am still trying to think of how to placate Ellis, who is also quiet—probably thinking about how he’s going to get back at me—as we all sit down for dinner.
My parents both leave to bring out the dinner dishes. Sure enough, as they set things down, I can tell they’ve ordered from local restaurants, and that the dinner rolls are made by my dad—of course, he announces this to the table, but that’s my dad—and my mother says she did the salad.
We pass the salad bowl.
I put salad on my plate.
“You don’t want her to know,” says Andrew as he puts salad on his plate.
“You don’t want her to know that you’re taken.
Or, no, maybe you’ll tell her at just the right moment, when you’re trying to convince her to leave me.
That way, it’ll be terribly romantic, right?
You two both run off on your bonded mates and live together—”
“No,” says Ellis.
Andrew surveys him.
“I like your sister,” says Ellis to Andrew.
My stomach turns over. But I just told everyone in my family his secret. He can’t be pleased about that.
Maybe he’s just playing some angle right now?
“No,” says Andrew, “you don’t.”
“You don’t,” agrees my mother from the other side of the table. “That’s why we’re all so concerned.”
My father says, “Well, Joni, what if he did?”
“He doesn’t,” says my mother.