Chapter 7
SEVEN
Playing: “Once in a Lifetime” by One Direction
My attempt at distracting myself is futile. My comfort game usually keeps me preoccupied through anything, much to Sam’s dismay, but it doesn’t seem to be helping right now. My eyes keep darting to the window, waiting to see an unfamiliar car pull up with Opal and her things.
I don’t know why I’m so nervous, but the jitters itch across my skin.
My scent has been slightly sour ever since I woke up and realized that today was the day, and I’d be the only person here to greet her.
There’s some kind of Alpha Xi commitment that all the guys made a few months ago, and now I’m here to freak out, alone.
It’s a quarter to one when a black SUV finally pulls up, and I see a flash of orange hair in the passenger seat. My heart beats crazily in my chest at the sight, and I quickly shut my game down to get up. When Opal, Stacia, and Rory finally get out of the car, I start to pace in front of the door.
Oh gosh, do I wait for them to come to the door? Do I go out to help them? But then they would know that I was sitting here waiting for them. What do I do?
I finally decide to head out the front door and walk to them as nonchalantly as I can. When Stacia sees me, she smiles big. They all finally turn in my direction and I wave.
“Where are all the big alphas when you need them?” I say, stepping up and immediately regretting my words, but then Stacia laughs.
“Right, people like to say omegas are all helpless, but when we actually need help…” Rory lets her words trail off as she rolls her eyes. “Thankfully, we got all of this packed up pretty quickly. Now, we have you.”
I smile. “You have me.” I look at Opal and find that she’s already watching me. The dark shadows under her eyes show her exhaustion, so I take the box in her arms. “Let me show you to your room.”
She nods, which prompts me to take charge as I lead her back to the house. I stumble a bit to open the door, but when I do, it opens wide, and Opal inhales sharply. I look at her as she holds her hand up to her nose, almost blocking it. “Are you okay, Opal?”
She startles when she catches me watching her. “I’m fine,” she says. “Sorry, I was trying not to sneeze. Allergies.”
“Let me know if I can get you anything for that.”
We walk quietly then, all the way to her room. It’s been empty for a while, besides some furniture and a bed. Sam didn’t know what to do with it, but we assumed it could be used as a guest room.
Now, it belongs solely to Opal.
“Here we are,” I say as we enter. I set the box on the bed and then turn back around. “I’ll get the rest of the boxes, and you all can get started.”
They barely give me an answer before I walk out, determined not to let them lift another finger. By the time all of the boxes are in her room, I’m out of breath and sweating, my scent much more pungent than usual.
Darn those alphas for being busy today.
I set down the last box and sigh with relief, accidentally pouring out more of my scent. Opal tenses, and I instantly curse myself. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m not used to physical labor. I’m cursing us for getting a house with such a steep driveway, to be honest.”
The other two omegas laugh, but Opal doesn’t move.
Her nervous energy bleeds towards me, making me wince.
Maybe I came on too strongly. My scent is suddenly all over her stuff, and I realize that’s usually not proper omega etiquette.
I swipe my hand over the box I just put down like it’ll wipe my scent off it, but it all stays just the same.
“I’m going to—” I point over my shoulder and clear my throat. “I’m going to let you get settled and unpacked. I’ll be in the living room if you need anything or need to find anything.”
Opal stares at me like a deer-in-headlights, so Rory clears her throat, pulling her out of whatever she was thinking about. She finally cracks a meek smile, nodding her head. “Thank you, Kit. I appreciate all your help.”
I shut the door behind me and linger for a moment, my hand refusing to come off the doorknob. Then I curse to myself, because I’m being a doorknob. I let go and walk back to the main part of the house, and begin the waiting game once more.
Rory and Stacia leave about an hour after I made a fool of myself.
My attempt at playing my comfort game once more is, yet again, fruitless.
Still, I focus on it as much as I can rather than getting up to check on Opal constantly like a stalker.
One that lives down the hall from her. One who can’t stop thinking about whether or not she feels comfortable in her new room.
I hold out for as long as I can, but then I hear something rustling down the hall. When I get to the supply closet, I make a few clicking noises. “Jemma,” I whisper, trying not to disturb Opal just a few doors down. “You know you’re not supposed to be in there, here girl…”
But when I open the door all the way, I don’t see Jemma.
It’s Opal, going through the supplies that are—I must admit—not very organized.
When she sees me, her eyes widen, and she almost falls off the step ladder she’s on, but steadies herself quickly.
She looks at me with the cutest scowl I’ve ever seen.
“What did you just call me?” she asks, slightly out of breath.
I open my mouth to answer, but then focus on where she’s holding a hand cloth in one hand and a toilet paper roll in the other.
I quirk a brow at her, amused. “What are you doing?” I ask.
The scowl disappears as she looks back at the items that she’s holding.
The cute way her forehead scrunches as she thinks about whether or not to lie to me makes me smile.
Finally, she heaves a sigh. “I made a little bit of a mess in my room by trying to use my portable stove, so I was looking for paper towels.”
My brows furrow. “Why were you using your portable stove?”
She shrugs, a blush creeping across her cheeks. “I didn’t want to bother you by asking a million questions about where everything is in the kitchen. It felt like staying in my room was the best idea.”
Fuck, I’m already messing this up. “I’m sorry, Opal. I was worrying about the same thing. I wanted to come make sure you were comfortable, but I didn’t want it to feel like I was hovering.”
She nods. “I’m sorry, too. I should have just asked.”
I shake my head. “No, I should have made it clearer that you could ask me for anything. This is your home now, too. I want you to be relaxed here. You can go anywhere you want and ask any number of questions that you need until it feels like second nature, okay?”
Opal’s smile eases some of the tension in my body. I reach down and pick up a roll of paper towels and hand it to her. “You can keep this. We can talk about groceries and everything later this week. It’s kind of a ritual for Sam. It makes him feel better.
“Me too, actually,” she says, chuckling slightly as we walk out of the closet and back to her room.
“I’m sorry, again, that it felt like I was leaving you to the wolves. The truth is, I’ve been playing my favorite game all day to distract myself so you can be comfortable in your own space without someone crowding you.”
Her face flickers with something close to surprise at my statement. “That’s okay. What were you playing?” she asks in a slightly excited tone, like she’s sincerely curious.
Her question causes me to hesitate. She gives me an eager look, like my answer will matter to her in some way. When I talk to Sam or Thatcher about video games, they have no idea what I’m talking about, so there’s no pressure to state my opinion. Now, for some reason, I feel slightly nervous.
“Oh,” I start, rubbing my neck so I can do something with my hand. Her eyes go to my bicep for a moment, and I know I’m being awkward. She can’t even maintain eye contact with me. “Ori and the Blind Forest.”
Her face lights up. “I love Ori! Was it the definitive edition?”
The pure joy on her face sends a jolt of electricity through my body. “Yes, it was. Have you played?”
She nods, her brown eyes sparkling with glee. “It’s one of my favorites.”
It becomes quiet then, an excited charge pulsing in the air. It’s like we’re both unsure of how to react to the fact that we love the same thing, so I cough and change the subject. “Did you finish unpacking?”
She laughs under her breath. “Not really.”
“Well, I can order a pizza and help you unpack while we wait for it. If you like pizza, of course.”
Slight panic flickers over her features. “No, that’s okay! I… you probably won’t like the pizza I like.”
That makes me curious. “Try me.”
Her cheeks flush as she takes a deep breath. From the few things I know about her, I’d never expect her to be bashful, but the red undertone does something to me. It makes me feel like a boy on the playground again, chasing after my latest crush and giggling until our bellies hurt.
“I like fig jam and prosciutto,” she admits as she bites her bottom lip. I stare at her, wondering if this is real life, and then I start laughing.
“What?” she asks, exasperated by my reaction. “I told you it was niche! Why are you making that noise?”
I choke on my laughter. “You’re going to think I’m lying.”
This time, she repeats my words back at me and places her hands on her hips. “Try me.”
The tiny peek into her sassiness causes even more amusement to settle as I say, “That’s Sam’s favorite, too.”
Her smile drops, which isn’t how I expect her to react. She recovers quickly, though, and a weak smile pokes through. “That’s… bizarre, actually.”
I shrug, giddy by the revelation. “It’s good for me, because I know exactly where to get the best fig and prosciutto pizza. Give me a second and I’ll order it.”
It only takes a few minutes, but I order the pizza plus some wings from one of our favorite restaurants downtown.
When I get back to her room, she’s wiping up where she spilled water on the hardwood floor beside her portable stove.
By the red packet sitting beside it, I’m guessing that she was going to make ramen.
I make a mental note of the brand and reach out to take the paper towels from her.
I slip them into the trash bin down the hall and then come back.
Opal’s back to work, looking through her boxes to figure out where everything goes.
When I come across a box full of mugs, I place them carefully by the door so that I can make a spot for them in the kitchen.
She notices and thanks me as she puts some of her jewelry on the dresser near the wall.
I move to a few open boxes on her bed to help, pointing at them with a silent question.
She’s reluctant; it’s not uncommon for an omega to not want others touching their stuff, but then she nods, allowing me to help her.
The first box is full of stuffed animals, all plush and soft under my touch. I pull out a medium-sized green apple that reminds me of Sam’s scent. The thick yarn is smooth as I hold it up to her. “This is so cute.”
She looks at the plushie and then back at me a few times before saying, “Thanks. I made it.”
“You crochet?”
She nods. “It’s relaxing.”
And time-consuming. I’d never be able to focus on something that long, but the creativity calls to me. I may not be able to work with needles for the amount of time that’s needed to make something like this, but I understand taking care with art. Just on a more technological level.
She points to a spot where I can unload the rest and I get to work. It doesn’t take long to get them all in a row, but I’m sure she will rearrange them at some point. I move on to the next box and notice that it’s full of video games. My heart rate picks up slightly.
This is my bread and butter.
I’m amazed by the collection, going one by one, so I can absorb each and every one. There are so many good ones. Cult of the Lamb. Echoes of Wisdom. Stardew Valley. Enter the Gungeon. Then, of course, she has Ori and the Blind Forest. I think I fall a little bit in love with every title I read.
Instead of putting them away, I hold up one of the two-player games. “Have you played this one yet?” I ask her, flashing the cover that has two little birds on it. When she looks over, she laughs.
“Yeah, a little. Rory kept getting frustrated, so she vowed not to play it with me anymore.”
I chuckle. “Well, I’ve never played and it looks fun. You have Unraveled, too.”
Opal closes one of the drawers in her dresser and walks over to me. “Do you and Sam not play any games together? Or Thatcher?”
I glance away, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden. “They’re not really into video games. At least, not a large variety. Thatcher likes sports games that he plays with Atlas and Kendall, but he never really took to these. He says it makes him think more than he wants to.”
I laugh because it is amusing that Thatcher doesn’t like a lot of mental stimulation, but a part of it is sad, too.
Video games and animations are such a big part of my life, and my pack isn’t too keen on it.
I always imagined that when I found my scent match, they’d be just as into this stuff as I was.
Everything about Sam and my pack is more than ideal, but accepting that I wouldn’t have that camaraderie with them was harder than I wanted to admit.
Opal doesn’t push for me to say more. She gives me a soft smile and nods. “Well, I’d love to play with you. Especially since my friends also get frustrated with these games. Maybe we could build a farm together, too.” She flashes me the Stardew Valley cover.
My smile grows in response. “Okay, but I get to marry Sebastian.”
Her brows arch teasingly at me. “You’ll have to pry Sebastian out of my cold, dead hands.”
Something tells me that this is the start of a beautiful friendship.