Chapter 8 #2
There seems to be a story I’m not privy to there but I rarely ever ask when they get into it. I’m just happy to disappear into the background. Once I get my degree, I won’t have to look back at any of the horrid experiences here. Graduation can’t come fast enough.
The professor starts talking, and for about ten minutes, the class almost becomes survivable.
We’re supposed to analyze a painting of a woman standing in a doorway, one hand braced on the frame, her body turned slightly away from the room behind her.
Light falls over her shoulder but doesn’t quite reach her face.
The whole thing is too on the nose for my current emotional state, and I resent the artist personally.
Parker studies the print with her chin in her hand. “She’s deciding whether to leave.”
Milo tilts his head. “Or whether she’s allowed to stay.”
Blair taps his nail once against the table, eyes still on the painting. “She’s waiting for someone to make staying worth the risk.”
The table goes quiet for half a second as we all look at him, surprised. Blair lifts one shoulder. “What? I contain more than money. I have emotional depth. It’s very inconvenient for everyone.”
My phone buzzes against the table before anyone can answer. I glance down on instinct, and there’s Hollis’ name on the screen. I completely forget that the swim team had my number, which meant the two men I spent the night with a few days ago also have it.
Hollis: saw a dog wearing sunglasses outside the gym. felt important to report.
The photo loads underneath. It is, unfortunately, an excellent dog, wearing blue sunglasses with the kind of gravitas most administrators can only dream of. I have no idea why Hollis would send me something like this and I’m even more curious why he would do it when I’ve been avoiding him.
My mouth twitches before I can stop it. Parker notices first as her eyes flick from the phone to my face. “Oh, that’s a gorgeous blush,” she teases.
“It was an allergic reaction,” I say, locking the screen and turning the phone facedown.
Milo leans forward like I’ve handed him a gift. “To the lighting or to the text?”
“To this entire table.”
Blair’s gaze drops to the phone I’m trying too hard not to touch.
“See, I have a feeling it has to do with the two who got you on auction night. I’m sure you don’t want to talk about it but I’ve never seen an auction fizzle out like that.
Most of us end up mated or at least dating or something. After that night...”
My face gets hotter. “I’m going to transfer.”
“Before or after you answer?” Parker asks, still smiling, but there’s nothing mean in it. That might be why I don’t immediately get up and leave.
The phone buzzes again but I don’t touch it. I glance up at the three of them, studying their expressions. Without the ability to read their scent, I have to hope they aren’t playing with me, that they really care.
Milo’s the first to break the tension. “You like them, don’t you? Oo, that’s so adorable! When me and my brother fell for the coach’s daughter—”
Parker slaps a hand over his mouth as Blair just shakes his head.
“What Milo is trying to say without giving you his whole pack history is that we all kind of fell together with our mates because it was something we wanted. Something we looked forward to. Something we felt safe in and by the look on your face, I feel like you found some part of that.”
I manage a shrug. Being wrapped up in Hollis’ arms that night was my favorite part. I’ve never cuddled in my life but hearing his purr beneath my ear coupled with his heartbeat... I’ve dreamt of it every night since. The problem is that I can’t trust it.
Parker’s teasing softens when I don’t answer. “Bishop and Hollis, right?”
I nod, dragging a hand through my hair. “Yeah, they’re a mated Alpha, Beta pair. I wasn’t even supposed to be on the stage but... it happened and they won the bid. Our swim team also has enough money for everything else after adding up all the monies that the other swim Alphas brought in.”
Blair lets out a soft purr, his tongue playing with his lip ring. I still have no idea how he ended up with two women, Alphas who always look one step away from throwing his ass on the mat. I’ve only been to one match but the way he mouths off around them...
Nope, I get it now.
Blair leans forward, tapping against the desk.
“Look, Bishop was the one I caught trying to scrounge up the donations and I overheard so I just pitched in.” I glare at him and he sighs.
“Sorry, not really the point. I’m just saying that I could see then that you meant something to him, hell Hollis too.
He’s adorable, you know? In like a six foot, bear type of way.
They obviously don’t care about last year. ”
Parker shoots him a look, but he only rests his chin on his hand and watches me like he’s waiting to see whether I’ll run. No pity. No soft tragedy face. No leaning in like my pain is a secret he’s excited to borrow.
“I don’t want to talk about last year,” I say, because it’s better to put the warning down before someone steps on it.
Blair’s expression barely changes. “Good. I don’t want the hallway gossip version, and you don’t owe me the real one. I know there was an incident, and I know enough to know Knotlocke likes simple stories when complicated ones require work.”
Parker’s hand rests near mine on the table. “We’re not asking for details.”
Milo has gone quieter, which is somehow the most startling part of the whole thing.
He turns the charcoal pencil between his fingers, before looking right at me.
“But if you’re scared because you like them, that part is allowed to be talked about without making you explain everything else.
They raised money to save you from ending up with another Alpha, Jude.
That has to count for something, right?”
I look at the painting again. The woman in the doorway has one foot angled toward the hall and one still inside the room. I hate her too.
“They asked for more,” I say.
Parker’s eyebrows lift, but she doesn’t interrupt.
“I left before breakfast because that’s what you do when something is supposed to be one night, and Bishop was awake.” My fingers find the edge of the coffee cup, denting the cardboard slightly. “He said they wanted me. Me.”
I don’t know what to do when people want me beyond the story or the swimmer or just an Omega in general.
No one has ever wanted that. Hell, no one has ever even stayed for a heat, not that I’d ever had a full one.
The one I had when I first presented, I used a Rent-an-Alpha service and there wasn’t any emotion during those few days.
Parker clicks her tongue to drag my attention back to her.
“So, I’m assuming you want them but what’s stopping you?
” I don’t answer so she fills in the silence.
“If it helps, my best friends and I had a night together before the auction. It became more but I couldn’t tell if they were playing with me or we were trying to make it official.
It took a lot of pouting and confusion but we figured it out and became mates.
You just have to talk to them, tell them what your boundaries are. ..”
Boundaries.
They’ve respected every single one.
“Do you want more?” Blair asks.
I could say no, make a joke, turn the whole thing into bad decisions and good sex and whatever else people say when they’re trying to crawl backward out of honesty.
Instead, I keep looking at the painting and say, “I don’t know how to trust people I can’t read.
” I force myself to keep going before I lose my nerve.
“Everyone else gets scent. That’s the whole thing, right?
You know when someone’s angry or calm or turned on or lying or whatever because your body tells you.
Mine doesn’t. I get coffee. Chlorine. Bleach.
Dining hall eggs, unfortunately. People are just people unless I watch every single thing they do. ”
Parker’s eyes don’t leave my face. “You can’t scent designations at all?”
I shake my head. “No Alpha edge. No Omega pull. No Beta calm. Nothing useful. I read hands, shoulders, distance, tone, whether someone looks at the door before they answer. That’s it.”
Milo’s voice stays gentle. “And they know?”
“They figured some of it out.” I rub my thumb over the cup lid, already regretting every word and still unable to stop.
“Hollis purrs and I can feel it but I can’t understand it the way other Omegas probably do.
I feel it in my chest. In my bones. It’s the only Alpha thing that’s ever made sense to my body without someone translating. ”
Parker’s expression softens so much I have to look away.
“And Bishop,” I say, because if I’m already humiliating myself, I might as well finish the collapse, “always makes sure I can see his face when he talks. He turns toward me. Keeps his hands where I can see them. Gives me words. He started doing it and I haven’t even really told him why it matters.”
Blair is quiet for a moment, which makes me nervous. Then he says, “That’s not pity.”
Parker bumps my shoulder with hers, light enough that I can ignore it if I want to. “Wanting more doesn’t make you weak.”
“It makes me stupid.”
“No,” Milo says, and he sounds more serious than I expect. “Running is useful if you know where you’re running to. If you’re just running in circles, that’s cardio.”
Blair makes a pained sound. “That was almost wise. I’m uncomfortable.”
The bell rings before I have to answer. Around us, chairs scrape, bags zip, and the professor reminds everyone about next week’s reading like anyone in this room has retained a single academic thought.
I shove my notebook into my backpack too fast and nearly bend the cover. “This has been horrifying.”
Parker smiles. “Same table next class?”
“No.”
“Great,” Milo says. “We’ll save you a seat.”
Blair catches my eye before I can leave, the usual sharp amusement still there but aimed carefully now. “For the record, I spent very good money helping Bishop win you. Don’t waste my investment by being an idiot.”
I stare at him. “Why did you?”
“Because I know what it’s like when nothing seems to line up properly. When it’s only money in the way, I feel obligated to help.”
I leave the classroom irritated, embarrassed, and too aware of the phone in my pocket. The hallway is crowded with students changing classes, everyone loud and moving too close, but I barely notice them as I unlock the screen.
Hollis' dog photo is still there. Under it, another message waits.
Hollis: bishop says i should stop texting. i am demonstrating restraint.
Then, immediately after:
Hollis: this is restraint.
Below that is one from Bishop.
Bishop: He lasted thirteen seconds before texting again. I did try.
I read it twice, standing in the middle of the hallway with my backpack sliding down my arm and my heart beating with something that feels strangely close to hope.
Then I type before I can lose the nerve.
Me: I need to talk to you both after practice.
Bishop answers first.
Bishop: Okay.
Hollis: good talk or bad talk?
I stare at the question, thumb hovering over the screen. There are a lot of answers I could give but I decide to give them the truth.
Me: Necessary talk.
The typing dots from Hollis appear, vanish, then appear again. I can almost see Bishop taking the phone out of his hand. A moment later, Bishop’s message comes through.
Bishop: We’ll be there.
I tuck the phone into my pocket and head toward the athletic building, irritated, embarrassed, and halfway to brave.