Chapter 16
Ophelia
I'm going to throw up. I know it won't settle my nerves or my stomach, but I keep thinking that if I duck into the bathroom and let myself dry heave over the toilet for a minute, I might feel more in control.
I don't do it, but I think about it. I'm late. I left late, not for any fashionable purpose but because every act of forward momentum was nerve-wracking. I let my long brown waves hang down my back, failing at Roxy's updo tutorial. Since I didn't have to work yesterday and knew I was going to the fancy country club on the north side of downtown, I didn't take any scent-blockers, so I smelled like a proper unbonded omega. It's the only way they'd let me in, anyway.
The luncheon was in the afternoon, so I wasn't worried about being out late without the blockers. I still felt naked when I left my apartment without them, though.
The heels were good for one thing: forcing me to move slowly. It gave me something else to focus on other than greeting the guys in public for the first time since we officially met.
I snagged a glass of champagne from a passing server, making sure to smile at him, though I think I showed too much teeth and enthusiasm and freaked him out.
Air-descenting filters were running at max capacity. Though I could smell people up close, the scents all blended together, so I had to search the many unfamiliar faces, and the more time that passed that I didn't see them, the more I questioned what the fuck I was doing here, pretending to belong.
The high ceilings boasted exposed beams, and the windows were ornately decorated, giving the whole place a real coastal cottage feel. We aren't near the ocean, but we could be dining on Martha's Vineyard for all the popped-collar vibes I was getting.
I keep vacillating between wanting to scream, 'Fuck this place, fuck these people,' and 'Please, Asher, where are you? I need a hug!' My omega's needy, nervous whimper matched my own, and I navigated the ritzy place and people with the confidence of a turtle.
I wasn't imagining the stares and snickers from other omegas who looked like they belonged in a ballroom, not an afternoon charity lunch event. I was underdressed, even in Roxy's beautiful green wrap dress. I hated that I let them get to me, but I couldn't help it, and the longer I wandered around this stupid place alone, the worse I felt.
Just when I was starting to give up, I heard it—Theo's obnoxiously charming laugh. My heart soared. I scurried around packs and servers, zeroing in on his voice, but when I found him, my not-mate was leaning in close to another woman, flirting shamelessly. Hard to hear over the heart-pounding pulse in my ears, but I heard him say her name, the rest of the words disappearing as he whispered into her ear, making her giggle and flutter her giant eyelashes.
The beautiful, gaudy omega from the gala I spilled drinks on. She smelled of peaches, leaning into Theo's space, her perfect, bouncy cleavage on display for him. I'm ashamed I tugged at my dress, feeling inadequate and jealous.
I felt like I was encroaching on her space, her claim, that I was the one who was interrupting. He's mine, I wanted to cry out, but was he? I've been rejecting him all this time, haven't I?
She titters and leans in, her lips so close she could kiss him, with one eye on me because she recognizes me, too—wrapping her long talons around his arm, whispering something into his ear, and there they go, back and forth, in conversation with each other. They look like a couple. My stomach sours, and I turn away.
My heart beats loudly in my chest; I feel like it's racing so fast it's visible, like a cartoon pulsing at my breast. I slip my cold, clammy hand around my neck to try and cool down. The small sip of champagne turns to acid in my stomach, so I set the glass down at the nearest table, not caring there's a group of people chatting and laughing together where I leave it.
I need to find the other guys. Theo's the only one who hasn't been interested in me, maybe he never wanted this, me or an omega in general. It's the damn scent-match that's screwing everything up.
With renewed determination, I steel my nerves and keep searching, dodging leering eyes from packs on the prowl and judgy fake smiles from omegas, trying mightily to keep my eyes from burning with tears. It feels so ridiculous, to be so hurt over something so small. Theo doesn't want me. It's what I wanted, right? Before I made the stupid decision to come here?
Finally, I spot him. His height helps, and he towers over a small group near the back. I hurry over, knowing Sully's been determined since day one that we figure out how to move forward together.
But when I approach, he's there with… another omega.
Well, it is an omega luncheon, right? An excuse for the unbonded to mingle, drop some cash for charity so they can feel good about themselves. But when I approach, their conversation catches me off guard.
Standing behind Sully, I listen, his deep voice greeting the woman at his side, "Imogen, it's good to see you again."
The woman, a gorgeous blonde with big, watery, innocent blue eyes, blinks up at my not-mate. "Oh, Sully, it's so good to see you! I'd hoped we could get together again," she smiles warmly at him, and that's when I recognize her. If I hadn't poured over every picture of them in the magazines, I might not have, but he's gone on a date with her.
Is that what this is? I'm frozen, watching like a voyeur, unable to turn away no matter how much it hurts. "Me too, actually. In fact, I hoped to run into you so we could talk. Maybe we could go somewhere more private?"
The woman leans forward, delighted, the picture perfect image of an OFA graduate. She's everything Alma always wanted to be. "Yes, of course, I'd love that."
Sully takes a step toward her, reaching an arm around her low back, and the shock and hurt are visceral. He's taking her somewhere private? He's touching her?
I must make a noise. A whimper. Several people near me respond. They can't help it; it's instinctual. The omegas react like there's a possible threat; the alphas do the same but drop into protective mode. As does Sully, but when he turns and sees the hurt in my eyes, he steps back, away from me, like I've burned him.
"Ophelia," he rushes to say.
"Don't let me interrupt. I believe you were taking this lovely young omega somewhere more private." I smile tightly, and I probably look pathetic, but whatever. I'm done giving a fuck.
I turn on my heel, not letting my hurt turn into tears. Sully chases after me. I duck and weave around all the people, and it's like a replay from the gala. I'm still the one who doesn't belong.
Only when I near the entrance do I spot Enzo. He's staring at his phone, looking like he'd rather be anywhere—literally anywhere—than here. When I nearly pass him, he glances up, and his bored, irritated expression transforms.
His eyes narrow, taking me in, noticing my dress and my effort, but I don't get a chance to feel stupid for trying to fit in. He takes in Sully's pursuit behind me, the expression on my face, and then steps between us.
I don't know what he says to Sully, but Enzo follows me out, and I gasp in the fresh air. It sure smells nicer outside here than in South Loop. That doesn't really make sense. Could their air be fresher?
Enzo's gripping my arm, guiding me down the street before I can call a cab. I try to shrug him off, but I don't have the mental fortitude. I don't fight when he leads me to their SUV. Only when I climb in and scent the others, the pine and cedar and even Theo's sweet lemon and honey, so goddamn enticing I want to bite into him like he's a petit four, taking in all their scents, do soft tears spill down my cheeks.
It's not a sobbing cry, just the casual feeling of crushing disappointment and heartbreak.
They were never just going to wait around for me to be ready.
Enzo's silent stability beside me makes me feel a little stronger. He's quiet, like usual, while navigating the streets and heading to my apartment. Sully's name pops up on the GPS screen. The ringing stops and then starts up again. Enzo doesn't react, but I feel angry and betrayed.
Just as Enzo pulls onto my street I stab the screen, answering the call.
"Stop calling, Sully," my voice cracks.
"Baby, it's not what you think. I wasn't inviting her somewhere private to fuck. I wanted to talk to her."
I hang up the phone.
Enzo turns off the car and presumably texts Sully, judging by the way his phone goes from blowing up with notifications to silence. He pockets it and climbs out of the car, and before I can step down, he's right there holding the door open for me, my hand in his.
We walk up the steps to my apartment, dodging moms and kids playing games and a couple of old guys drinking 40s on the stoop. I expect Enzo to leave me at the entrance, but he follows. The same happens when we reach my apartment. My steps are slow, but with every opportunity I give him to turn and leave and say goodnight, no matter how early in the evening it is, he doesn't relent his unhurried pursuit.
When we step inside, I'm relieved I cleaned so thoroughly. My apartment will never be five stars, but I'm proud of my space. Even more, of the four of them, Enzo's always been the least judgemental.
That doesn't mean he doesn't notice the broken knobs on drawers or torn fabric on the couch, but he merely observes, like it's just a thing that exists not to offend him but as a result of a long, well-lived life.
It occurs to me that this is the first time I've been alone with Enzo when his bright, electrifying scent envelopes me. For some reason, he's always with one of his brothers when he's been up here or followed me to or from work. He watches me alone, but we've never been alone together.
I wonder if that's by design.
"Are you going to say anything?" I ask, kicking off Mel's nicest pair of low heels, feeling better when my feet hit the solid ground.
"What would you like me to say?"
"You can say whatever you want, Enzo. I guess I just expected you to defend your brothers' behavior," I wave my hand in the air defensively.
"What did they do?" He asks.
"He… they…" I guess he wasn't there to witness it. But he must have known what they were up to, right? They were all at that stupid luncheon for a reason. "Theo was flirting with some woman named Bridgette. Then Sully… I expected more from him, you know? He asked this girl Imogen to go somewhere private."
He lifts his head in understanding, which makes it all feel worse. "That's what he meant." My questioning eyebrows encourage him to continue, "When he said he wanted to talk with her."
He doesn't elaborate, and my patience is running thin. He can taste my mood in the air, and I watch as his nostrils flare and his eyes narrow questioningly.
This is our first time alone together, but it's also my first time in his presence without a hint of scent-blocker.
He blessedly continues, "Imogen is the daughter of the Bradford Pack. Business associates. They've been trying to set us up for months. We've said no repeatedly. Sully mentioned he would try speaking with her privately to inform her about you since we didn't want to out you publicly. Imogen is a nice girl, we thought she'd keep it to herself. She doesn't seem to be as…" He presses his lips together, searching for the right word. "...Avaricious."
"And Theo?"
Enzo shrugs. "I don't know what Theo was doing. But he hasn't been with anyone else in a while; I highly doubt he'd choose today to sleep with some random omega. He's naturally flirtatious."
Huh. Just like that. So easy an explanation.
Naturally flirtatious? With that viper? The least he could do is have good taste.
But it's like Enzo's untied the balloon. My hurt and anger seep out slowly. "Was Asher…?"
"He was there, I don't know where. Statistically speaking, considering how many unbonded were there, he was likely speaking to another omega. Or he was waiting in the kitchens for the whole thing to finish because he, like myself, did not want to be there."
"So why go?"
Enzo doesn't answer. Instead, he walks around my apartment, a slow perusal, taking in and cataloging everything. I think he does this when he's nervous. You'd never guess, outwardly, that he feels uncomfortable. But his bright mint scent flutters between us like he's anxious.
I step forward, grabbing his wrist to stop his perusal. He looks up, surprised.
We're quiet, but our scents mingle, and neither of us could deny the arousal and attraction between us. It's different from what I feel for the others. I'm still getting to know all of them, but Enzo… There's something about him. Like he's mine, he's always been mine.
Not because he's a virgin or because he's been following me around for weeks and was the only one not looking at or talking to another omega tonight. But on some bone-deep level, I feel like we're in this uncertainty together.
"You look beautiful tonight, Ophelia."
His eyes glitter behind his thick black frames, looking me over. He leans in, just like he did that first night, silently demanding the expanse of my neck, my submission. I stand perfectly still, without retreating, while he inhales, nose and lips trailing along my neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake. My knees go weak, and my perfume blooms in the air around us as his hand goes around my waist.
It's the first time he's touched me. Not caressed or reached out or grasped a piece of my clothing. He's holding me like he wants to consume me.