Nelly #2
I gesture at her. "See? That's not so weird. Everyone thinks it's weird that I've lived here all my life and don't really have any friends."
"I mean, I don't either, but I'm also from out of town."
I pause. "So, it's a little weird?"
She holds up her fingers, pinched together. "Just a little bit."
I playfully scoff. "Well, forgive me if I prefer being a recluse."
"Why's that?"
"Why's what?"
"Why do you enjoy being a recluse?"
I shrug and hold it at its apex before dropping my shoulders. "I don't know. Easier that way? I don't really understand people. I understand houses better."
"Preach," she murmurs. "That's how baking feels to me. There's a rhythm and a rhyme to it."
"A groove you get into."
She motions to me. "Exactly. And I always get so upset—"
"—when someone ruins the groove? Oh, god. Me, too. I've snarled at more people over the course of my career than I care to count."
We have a good giggle together before it falls silent again.
"Can I ask you something, Nelly?"
"What's up?"
"Why do you look like you're one inconvenience away from a complete emotional breakdown?"
I snort despite myself. "Fair."
"So?" she asks. "I mean, don't get me wrong, you can tell me to stop being nosy. But you looked so forlorn when you sat down and I just…"
This girl seems so sweet. "Just got a lot on my mind."
"Penny for your thoughts?"
I snicker. "I'd need a dozen pennies just to get them organized."
She laughs and takes another sip of her coffee. "Trust me, I get it. I run myself ragged over this bakery, and when I'm not working here, I'm thinking about it."
That makes me wonder. "So, you own the bakery attached to this place?"
"I do, yes."
"And your Alphas are… okay with that?"
Her brow pinches together. "Why wouldn't they be?"
"I don't know. They don't… tell you to stay in the nest and make babies or something?"
She pauses before she giggles so hard she covers her mouth.
"Why would they do that?" she asks.
All of the things my family told me once come rushing back to my mind. "I mean, they don't insist you keep a home and cook their meals or something like that? They don't try to take over?"
She shakes her head as her hand falls away from her mouth. "Not even a little bit. I think I'd take one of their heads off if they tried."
"And they're… okay with it?"
She looks genuinely confused. "Again, I don't know why they wouldn't be. Are Omegas not supposed to work or something?"
"According to my parents," I murmur as I polish off my coffee.
"Well," she says as she reaches for my mug, "my pack and I run things around here. It took some time getting our footing, especially after we all bonded, but this place runs smoother than it ever has because we all pitch in where we can. It's a group effort."
I just nod slowly before my gaze drops. My mother's voice runs around in my head, chirping about being a softer Omega.
Working on my cooking skills instead of my renovation skills.
Wearing dresses with pristine shoes that click against the floor and announce when I'm coming down a hallway so others can stop and stare.
"Looks like you have the pleasure, too."
"Huh?" I ask as I whip my head up.
Lia motions to her neck. "Pack. It looks like you have the honor as well."
Oh, fuck. The marks. My hand clasps against the crook of my neck, but I know they're on the other side as well. Both of my hands clamp down against my skin and Lia gets a worried look on her face.
"Sure," I murmur as my hands fall into my lap, "if you can call it that?"
Her eyes narrow slightly. "You were marked against your will?"
My throat tightens. "I… don't know."
I hate how small the words come out.
But then, her face softens. "Heat of the moment type of deal?"
I point at her. "I think that's more of a descriptor than the other one." When she doesn't respond, I fill the silence between us. "I don't know, things get weird during a heat."
"They do."
"I don't remember everything, either."
"Ah, you get the patchiness, too?"
My eyes widen. "Does your mind do that, too? Like, you're there, and then you're not? And then you'll come out of it and you're—"
"—doing something completely different than what you last remember? Oh, yeah. Happens a lot with me."
I sigh heavily. "It sucks. I remember enough for things to be awkward, and that's about it."
She smiles brightly. "Also normal. One time, during my last heat, the last thing I remembered was Walker making me eat something, and when I came to, I was pressed in between Knox's body and the jets of our hot tub."
My lips pinch together. "Ohhh, I bet that was a hard transition."
She grins. "Something was hard, all right."
My head falls back with laughter and she joins me. I like this girl. She looks innocent enough, but she's got spunk. But when the laughter dies down, I'm right back inside my head.
Because none of this feels normal.
Lia studies me for a moment. "You want to talk about it?"
I scoff. "I don't even know if I want to think about it, and I don't know what kind of Omega that makes me."
"An overwhelmed one."
I blink back tears as I gaze out the window. "That's a good word for it."
I don't want to unpack it or even acknowledge what's going on. I just want to enjoy the fact that my belly is full and the bed in the room is probably going to feel so damn good for two hundred bucks a night.
But unfortunately, the tears burning my eyes suggest otherwise.
"Come on," she says as she stands and holds out her hand, "let's get you settled in your room."
And I don't hesitate to slip mine into hers.
The room is gorgeous.
Infuriatingly so. There's a large window that overlooks the vineyard right from the bed, and Lia assures me up and down that it's tinted from the outside so no one can see in. Sunlight spills across the polished hardwood floors from a set of sliding glass doors that lead out to a private balcony.
The bed looks softer than anything I've ever slept on.
And this view alone explains the price tag.
"Wow," I whisper as I stand by the sliding glass doors.
"Yeah," Lia says as she steps up beside me, "this place never ceases to amaze me with its beauty."
"Do you guys all live on the property?"
She points to a house about half a mile off. "That's our place, me and my pack."
I just shake my head. "Gorgeous. It's all just gorgeous."
For a moment, neither of us says anything.
The silence stretches, and I wonder if this is what it's like to have a friend.
I never made many in high school. I was always so embarrassed of my family, and I never wanted to subject anyone to that, so I never hung out after school with people.
I never wanted to take the chance that they wanted to come over and hang out with me.
I don't even realize I'm crying until my legs give out beneath me.
"Oh, sweetheart. I gotcha. Come here."
Lia's voice is soft, and soothing. She wraps her arms around me as I practically collapse, and the sobs don't stop. No warning. No buildup. Just years of memories and buried emotions clamoring to the surface.
There's panic and worry in my chest that I know isn't coming from me.
"Oh God, I can feel all of them," I sob against Lia.
"I know," she whispers as she holds me against her. "It's so overwhelming at first, and I was ready for it. I can only imagine how you're feeling."
"They're such good guys, too," I hiccup out in between my sobs. "They deserve so much better than me."
"Shhh," she shushes softly as she rubs her hand up and down my back. "None of that. Just let it out."
An onslaught of memories washes over me. The begging from my heat. The criticism from my family. My mother's voice, chirping an "I told you so" in my ear as if she's right there with me.
"They always s—said th-th-this would h—appen," I sob out.
"Who said?" Lia asks softly.
"M—my family. They—they always s—aid—"
"Catch your breath first. Just breathe."
I don't know how long I cry for, but eventually, the emotions settle. I pull away from Lia and she brushes some tears off my cheek, as if I might break.
Maybe I will.
My hand lifts and aimlessly rubs my chest. "My family always told me growing up that Omegas don't run businesses."
Lia's nose wrinkles. "Ah, you came from a traditional household."
"Pretty much everyone in town does."
"It seems that way."
I swallow hard. "My family always told me I'd have to choose, eventually. Between doing what I love and doing what I was born to do."
"Oh, ew," Lia murmurs as she rolls her eyes. "I mean, no offense, but your family can bite me."
I snicker softly. "That's what I always told them growing up. They always said, 'Omegas stay home, Penelope. It's not safe out there for a lonely Omega.'"
"What else did they say?"
My lower lip wobbles. "That good Alphas don't want difficult Omegas. They don't want Omegas that are stubborn, or independent, or loud, or ambitious. They want Omegas that can cook and keep homes and nest properly." My face crumbles. "I keep nesting on couches laced with sawdust."
As Lia wraps her arms back around me, I suddenly feel twelve years old again. Just on the cusp of my Omegahood and feeling ashamed I turned out this way.
"I've always felt wrong as an Omega," I blubber out. "The guys make me feel right in my skin and that terrifies me. And I hear my family in my head all the time. It's not fair. I can't renovate homes loud enough to drown them out."
There's silence for a very long time as the sun sets. And when the room is shrouded in darkness, Lia finally speaks.
"If you could have any wish come true right now, what would it be?"
The answer arrives before I can stop it.
Or think.
Or edit myself.
"I wish my pack was here," I whimper out.
"There we go," she whispers as she holds my shoulders and wipes off my face like I'm nothing more than a kid. "You know what I think?"
My breath hiccups. "What?"