Chapter 10
Elijah
Ican’t fucking take this.
I’m the biggest fucking pussy I know.
I’m a disgrace to my family’s name. I’m a disgusting piece of shit who can’t even control his own feelings.
My fucking father was right.
I’m in love with my best friend.
And I shouldn’t be.
I don’t know when the hell these feelings started. But I’ve been banishing them to the darkest corners of my brain for a very long time.
Beck and his family saved me. I spent more nights at his house growing up than I did at my own.
When I started getting older, I couldn’t be at home when my father was in one of his drunken stupors, because his target shifted from my mom to me.
I count my blessings every night that he never turned physical with my younger sister.
Maybe Beck and I could’ve made something serious happen between us if everything had been different. If we had moved far away from our tiny ass town. Far enough away that my father would never hear about how his only son was the kind of slur he threw around like candy on Halloween.
Life is fucking cruel.
It’s like the moment I was given exactly what I fucking wanted when Beck presented—an excuse to be more than friends—his fame automatically took it away. With the way the media seems ready to fucking tear him apart, the last thing I want is to fuck up his dreams or put him in an unsafe situation.
“Eli! Fucking hell, why are your legs so long?” Beck hisses, jogging after me.
My jaw works as my eyes drag up his shirtless form. Whatever they did makes him look like he just walked out of a magazine.
Makes sense, considering these photos are going to be used in shit like that.
His skin glows, even in the harsh fluorescent lights from above.
There’s a twinge of deep-rooted satisfaction that settles in my throat at the sight of him running after me.
He picked me.
Not that omega.
Andromeda Sterling.
She’s the kind of omega someone in show business, like Beck, should be actually dating. It’s why we’re doing this whole sham of a fake relationship.
The media’s opinion on her is as clear as day: she’s a nepo-baby born with a silver spoon in those pouty lips of hers. There’s this steely confidence that throws me off whenever I talk to her. Something about it just pisses me the fuck off.
Something about her just pisses me the fuck off.
Like how fucking hard I was watching her press her perky tits against Beck’s chest, her back arched and her hair falling down her back like a waterfall.
They look good together.
And it fucking eats me up inside.
Because Andromeda gets to have Beck without even fucking trying. Without having to do anything to earn the blessing of Beck’s presence. He’s everything that I’m not. Warm. Considerate. Good to the bone.
“Earth to Eli,” Beck huffs, reaching up and tapping against my cheek.
The impact jolts me back to reality. My chest is heaving. When did I get out of breath?
“What’s going on in your head?”
God, I don’t think I can fucking look at him right now.
His eyes are like glittering pools I can dive into. I could drown in them so easily. Never coming up for air.
And his lips. His fucking lips that I can never stop thinking about. Not after they uttered those magic words two and a half years ago.
Please—please help me, Eli.
And help I did.
By kissing the fuck out of him like I want to do now.
Glancing over my shoulder down the deserted hallway, I grip his shoulders and push him further down the hall and around a corner. His skin is so fucking soft.
“What’re you doing?” he hisses through clenched teeth, his eyes going wide as his bare back presses up against the cold wall of a dark alcove.
I don’t answer him with words.
My answer is my lips slamming down onto his like a starving animal. It takes all the control I have not to reach up and drag my hands through his hair. That would be too noticeable.
The hate that flares hot in my gut turns into a fuel I pour into the kiss.
This is all I can have from him. Stolen moments in dark hallways and grimy alleyways.
And even then, I’ve only had a handful of these moments outside of his heat. Probably for the better. But still. I can’t help it.
Beck’s burnt caramel perfume explodes out from him, swirling in the air and making the kiss taste like fucking candy.
His hands twist into the collar of my shirt, almost like he doesn’t know whether to pull me closer or shove me away.
It takes him a few seconds—seconds I use to suck his bottom lip between my teeth—but he makes his decision.
With a quiet growl I can’t help but find adorable, he flattens his hands against my chest—a chest I know he likes feeling up during his heat—and pushes me away.
There’s a flash of frustration in his bright eyes as his hands linger on my muscular form. That frustration only grows when my lips quirk up into a lazy smile.
“We—we can’t do this anymore.”
His words are like a bucket of ice water. No—they’re like being thrown off a boat and plunging into the Arctic Ocean.
The soft skin of his shoulders feels like it burns my hands, and I drop them to my sides. They instantly clench into fists.
Everything good about me can be traced back to Beck. He made a joke years ago about how I wake up and the first thing I do is clench my fists. He’s not wrong.
His rejection? It feels like he’s ripping part of my soul from my chest.
“Shit,” Beck curses, blinking up at me like he can read my mind. Because he probably can. I don’t know whether it’s an omega thing or a Beck thing, but he knows me.
And I don’t want to be known right now.
I feel like I’m laid bare, no defenses left to protect me from getting my heart stomped on.
“I don’t—I don’t mean this,” he says, gesturing between us, his brows drawn down in confusion. Shadows swirl in his normally bright gaze. “Well, not all of it. Just—just the part where something happens and we do—we do that instead of talking.”
My heart feels like it’s on a rollercoaster as I hang onto each of his words.
The relief that comes from the start is quickly drowned out by the dread I feel at the thought of having to talk about my feelings.
Men don’t talk about their feelings.
I can see flashes of my father’s face behind my eyelids every time I blink. That vein in his temple. The flush on his cheeks from the rage and alcohol in his system. The spit flying past his lips as he screamed.
I was never man enough for him. Even with him not knowing some of my deepest secrets. I was never fucking good enough for him.
Maybe he was a mind reader, too. Maybe he could see past my attempts at being what he wanted. Maybe that’s why he hated me.
“I—I can’t.” The words feel dragged from my throat like I’m vomiting shards of broken glass.
My vision grows dark around the edges. I hate it. It feels like it represents my father’s darkness seeping into me.
I am the spitting image of him, in looks at least.
“Hey, breathe with me, Eli. Take a breath,” Beck says, his hands pressing into my cheeks.
They’re cold. Is he cold? I wouldn’t be surprised if he were, considering he’s only wearing a pair of jeans and this place is blasting the air conditioning.
“Okay, breathe in. One, two, three, four. Good. Now breathe out. Two, three, four.”
My eyes stay locked on his face as I follow his instructions.
“That’s it. Good job. You’re doing great.”
I let his words flow over me. He’s better than any drug.
He’s right.
We do have to talk about this.
He’s also right that I can’t just be pushing him into dark hallways. What happened that night at the Grammys was a mistake.
If it hadn’t happened, if I had said no, if I’d stopped us at any point before we ended up in that alleyway, then we wouldn’t be in this fucking mess with that omega.
“Do you...” I clear my throat, my voice gruff and grating.
Beck’s eyes go wide. “We don’t have to talk about it now if you don’t want—you were—I don’t want to upset you.”
I shake my head, all the words I want to say swirling in the hurricane that is my brain right now.
“Do you... do you know how hard it is to watch her touch you like that? In front of a camera for the world to see when—when all I want is...”
My jaw works. I don’t know what the fuck to say. Everything I say doesn’t feel right.
“You...” Beck starts, his brows drawn down in confusion. “Want to be in a fake relationship?”
I let out a bark of laughter. It’s so genuine, so uncontrollable it feels ripped from my chest.
Maybe this is why this weird dance between us has gone on for so long. I don’t know how the fuck to explain to him what I’m feeling, and Beck can sometimes be blind to what’s right in front of him.
“No,” I say with a shake of my head.
Footsteps sound from down the hall, and I immediately take three steps back. My eyes rake over Beck. He doesn’t look too disheveled, minus the slight flush to his lips.
I spin on my heel, marching to the edge of the dark alcove we’ve found to peer down the hallway.
Fucking hell.
It’s her. The omega.
The bitter rage that flares hot in my gut, working its way up my throat, hits me like a truck.
It’s a reminder that I’m not worthy of Beck. I’m not good enough. If I were, I wouldn’t have these uncontrollable feelings. Or at the very least, I’d be able to explain them.
Even if we did get together, the chances of me fucking things up means I shouldn’t even fucking try. Look at my father. The last thing I’d ever want to do is turn into him.
Who would be there for Beck? And not just for his heat, but who would be there to help him with this whole industry?
Leo would. But at the end of the day, Leo is a beta, and there are different rules for alphas. If Beck were told to strip in front of an entire room full of people, having an alpha on his team to tell the rest of the room to fuck right off would help more.
“I need to talk to you,” Andromeda says, her arms crossed over her chest.
My eyes catch on the slight tremble in her fingertips before she tucks them away. I’m so distracted, it takes me a second for her words to register.
“Me?” I grunt, my eyes widening in surprise.
Leo leans against the wall behind Andromeda, his gaze darting between us, his expression contemplative.
Beck appears at the sound of Andromeda’s voice. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, are you okay? I shouldn’t have—”
“I’m fine,” Andromeda bites out, interrupting Beck.
His expression falls, and he tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
“Can I talk to Eli alone?” She shifts her gaze to Beck and does her best to soften her expression, but it doesn’t change the darkness swirling in her eyes. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Oh, um, okay,” Beck nods slowly, swallowing hard. His gaze remains glued to the floor.
Anger flares hot in my gut again. Sure, she can be pissed, but why the hell does she need to take it out on Beck? My blood orange scent grows sour with my irritation.
“I’m gonna go now,” Beck says sadly, shuffling his way down the hall.
I shoot Leo a look, saying, go follow him, don’t leave him alone, but his gaze darts between Andromeda and I.
“Can I stay here?” Leo murmurs.
Andromeda jumps, glancing over her shoulder like she forgot Leo was there.
“I’d prefer if you didn’t.”
“I’d prefer if I did,” Leo says, his gaze darting to me for a split second.
My eyes narrow. Sure, I’m pissed, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to hurt the omega.
“Then why’d you even ask?” Andromeda huffs, rolling her eyes. “Fine.”
The faint sound of the door closing behind Beck echoes down the hall. I take that opportunity to cut my gaze toward Andromeda.
“What the fuck was that for?” I growl, my lips curling back in a snarl. “Why the hell would you treat Beck like that? What the fuck did he do to you? He doesn’t deserve—”
The tips of Andromeda’s ears grow red as her own lips curl into a matching snarl.
“Excuse me,” she hisses, interrupting me. “The entire fucking room just saw my tits because Beck sent me sprawling on my ass because he was concerned over you. I have the right to be upset! At both of you!”
Her words stop me right in my tracks. For the first time since she and Beck walked out onto that set together, posing like they’re an actual couple, my mind quiets.
Is this normal for her?
Being treated like this?
Maybe she should be angrier. Especially since it seems she doesn’t have anyone to get angry on her behalf.
“I thought it was just because you didn’t want to be found out.
Then I thought it was because you didn’t want to affect Beck’s career,” she says, pursing her lips together.
She glances over her shoulder at Leo, who’s still there, watching our every move.
She leans forward, pitching her voice lower.
“But you’re in love with him, aren’t you? That’s why you’re acting like this?”
My breath catches in my throat.
Holy fuck.
Omegas are mind readers.