Chapter 8 #2
My stomach practically swooped at the way he said that. I had a feeling this man would blow my mind if he ever gave me half a chance.
The thought startled me. I should feel guilty for wanting someone else so soon, right? But I felt nothing for my exes, and I hadn’t for quite a while. After I cut them off, that was it.
I wasn’t dead. I was an omega in her prime, and I had eyes.
These men were all delicious in their own ways. And yeah, maybe it wasn’t cool to thirst after your brother’s best friends and teammates, but I couldn’t help it.
He led the way into the living room, kicking on the game system and tossing me a controller before taking one of his own.
The moment the screen loaded up, I couldn’t help but scroll around, looking at the games they had downloaded. Lennon didn’t say I got to pick, but he did hand me the main controller, so I figured it was unspoken.
“I always wanted to try this one,” I said, gesturing to the adventure game instead of the shooter.
“That’s one of my favorites. This one was so much better than the first.”
“Really? I only played the first,” I said, perking up again.
“Why didn’t you play the second?” he questioned, giving me a look.
“It’s not very omega-like to play video games. I shouldn’t like violence and shooting,” I mimicked, in the simpering voice of my ex. They were always trying to shape me into some submissive, sweet omega.
“Fuck that,” he said, and loaded it up for me.
The Lost Realms was amazing, but I had also heard that The Lost Worlds was even better.
It was a game where you searched for this long-forgotten treasure.
You fought your way through temples and old-world ruins, dense forests, all while your competitors tried to find it first. There were plenty of side quests and gorgeous views to keep it interesting.
The game started us on an old ship just arriving at the harbor of a small, desolate gothic town. I was so into it that the moment my alarm went off to let us know to take the tomatoes and onions out of the oven, I nearly fell out of my seat.
Of course, that had Lennon cracking up, his laughter booming off the walls.
I paused the game and stood up, crossing my arms. I couldn’t hide my smile, but I shook my head. “Get your ass up and finish the soup. This omega is hungry.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he teased, giving me a fake tip of his non-existent cowboy hat.
His arm brushed against mine as he walked past, and a shiver jolted through me. I hid it quickly, following him and chastising myself for letting my mind get away from me. He was gorgeous, there was no doubt about that, but he was definitely off-limits.
If I learned anything from my exes, it was that I would never date a hockey player again.
I’d learned the painful way that scent matches and compatibility meant nothing.
Apparently neither did bonds.
Focusing back on the task at hand, I gave the delta my attention.
Lennon was actually a fairly good student. I walked him through every step of finishing the soup, putting it back on the stove and adding a little cream, tasting it and adding a few more herbs and spices before it was deemed perfect.
While it was simmering, we started compiling sandwiches. He let me help with that part, and we made enough for everyone.
I turned the oven on the lowest possible setting to warm up a bit, keeping the sandwiches toasty until the guys were home.
Lennon ladled out two bowls of soup, before setting them on a tray with our sandwiches and drinks.
“Let’s go see if I failed,” he joked, picking it up and leading me back into the living room where we’d abandoned our game.
We sat down side by side this time, our knees brushing. It was so stupid that that little touch was everything to me.
He started to move, and I felt my body deflate. He must have noticed, because the next second he was pressing his leg into mine with a little more confidence, scooting close enough that I could feel his warmth now.
The food smelled incredible, but the added hint of his pepper and fresh linen was even better.
I gave him a shy smile before digging into my food. He did the same, and a flush of pride hit me when he groaned in appreciation.
“Holy shit. I can’t believe we made this.”
“You, technically, made this,” I corrected. “I only bossed you around. I kind of liked it. We’ll have to do that again.”
He let out a long-suffering sigh, like he could barely contain it. “If it makes food this good, I guess I could tolerate that again.”
“You know you can just admit that you like spending time with me,” I argued. “We could be friends.”
“Friends,” he mused, as if testing the idea out.
We let it drop there, no promises out loud, but a mutual understanding before our attention turned back to the game.
I just wanted to enjoy the moment while it lasted, because soon the others would be coming through the door, ragging on him about his cooking skills and ruining the moment.
I liked having them around, but I also really liked spending time with Lennon, just like I enjoyed reading with Wilder. Maybe it was my vulnerable heart, but I was getting way too attached to these hockey players, way too quickly.
Apparently, my omega had not learned her lesson.