Chapter 10
Lila
Plastering a fake smile, I shake it a bit and pretend to listen, but of course no sound gives it away. As I peel away the paper, I do my best not to let my face show the disappointment that burrows into my heart.
A soap kit. Liquid soap, hard soap, bath bomb, loofah, and some scrub.
Just like last year. Just like the year before.
Not even in a color I like. It's all pinks and pastels, almost an exact shade as the ones on my walls.
Pretending to beam at Linda, who I'm sure is the one who picked it out, I wave it at her.
"Thank you! I'm almost out of the last one."
Her jaw drops as she reaches over to smack Dad on the arm as her green eyes glitter with unbridled joy. "Didn't I tell you? Oh, I knew it. I knew she'd need another one. I told you, didn't I?"
He gives her an indulgent smile and pats her hand. "Yes, you did, dear."
I can't be mad at her. Not when I see just how excited she is. It's as if she truly doesn't know or understand. But then, it's not as if she's grown up with a daughter. All she had was Nate. And it's not like he'd want any of these frilly items.
In some ways, I'm the daughter she never had, just like Nate's the son Dad never had. I really shouldn't begrudge her this moment. Besides, there are several more gifts, and most of them are far bigger than I've had before. They can't all be spa items. Right?
I grab the next one and hold it up. This time, Dad's the one smiling as well. Maybe he did get me stuff for my next class! Elation fills my chest as I tear open the paper only to stare down at the generic art supply kit.
Colored pencils, watercolors, generic paints, and craft-level sketching paper sit in my lap like a bomb. Tears burn in my eyes until the whole thing blurs into a mass of rioting colors.
"We saw this at the store and knew it would be perfect for you," he says, his voice booming with a pride I can't understand.
It's not that I'm not grateful for the gift, but this looks like the same holiday set you'd find at any big box store. Nothing specific to me or what I do. Nodding, I set it down and give them a watery smile.
"Thank you. I'll be sure to put it to good use!" Not that they have to know that good use will be a bonfire on the quad to roast marshmallows over.
Going to the next, I almost dread opening it.
Instead of precision pens and sketch pencils, it's a beginner drafting kit, complete with plastic triangles and a compass still zip-tied into place.
High school stuff that I've grown beyond…
but I guess he never noticed or even cared to look at the supply list.
What I hate most is the look of hopeful exuberance on their faces. It's as if they both think they knocked it out of the park. With Nate, there was no question that everything was a perfect fit for his career. With me, it's as if they don't know anything about my chosen profession.
By the time I reach for the next gift, my fingers tremble. It's heavy, but that doesn't mean anything. As I unwrap it, it's like another punch to the gut. Build It Right: A Beginner's Guide to Foundational Architecture. Now I definitely can't help the tears from slipping down my cheeks.
It's not that I'm just so happy I can't contain it. Not even close. It's the same stupid book I bought at a thrift store while I was in middle school. It's what helped me develop my love for architecture all those years ago.
I glance up at them and do my best to hide my misery. Perhaps he knew how much it meant to me and wanted to get me a new one?
"I figured you might like a little supplemental book to go with your textbooks I ordered. You know, in case you need help with some of the bigger concepts. Anything to help my Little Lily succeed."
Nodding, I keep my mouth shut in order to not say anything to antagonize him. At this point, I just need to keep my head down until I can get back to school and figure out how to do things on my own. It's clear he doesn't understand, nor will he ever.
The next gift, of course, is a planner. Another thing I don't need since I keep track of everything on my phone. What's left is one big, long package, and another smaller one. Thankfully, the paper doesn't match my Dad and Linda's, so it has to be from Nate.
Even if it's stupid, I won't care. It's not like he knows anything about me. It's not like he even has a hope of getting it right. All I can dream of is something fun and not stereotypical young woman.
However, when I open the tube, my heart nearly stops.
Expensive, professional-grade tracing blueprint paper lies coiled up and ready for use.
My breath catches, chest tightening with an emotion I can't name.
I glance over at Nate and watch his thoughtful expression.
There's a hint of nervousness as he watches me, as if he may have gotten it wrong.
But he didn't. Oh, he didn't. He sees me.
Actually sees me. He doesn't even fucking know me, and got it oh so right.
This is exactly the type of stuff I need so I can practice.
And because it's not part of my school list, I don't have to worry about messing up and wasting it.
This is all for me to have fun with. If I didn't care about making a scene and showing my dad and Linda just how much their gifts pale in comparison, I'd jump over and hug him. I’d throw myself into his arms and never let go.
Instead, I simply look at him and smile, doing my best to convey everything with that one expression, everything I can't say out loud. Thank you. You see me. I want you. For now, it will have to be enough, but there's no way in hell I'll ever forget.
Opening the other, it looks like a handmade kit full of small things I'd need, including paper clamps, a few professional pens and pencils, and a proper cutting knife for when I make my cutouts.
"Thank you," I sob out, my voice quavering, thick with tears.
"Thank you all." Though I glance at all of them, doing my best to make it look as if my happiness includes Dad and Linda, I turn to Nate.
My eyes locked on his, pouring every ounce of gratitude and longing into that gaze. "Seriously. It means so much."
Wiping my tears away, I watch as Dad and Linda open theirs until everything else is unwrapped. Nate then stands and shoves his hands into his pajama pockets and rocks back and forth.
"You two might be wondering why you have no gifts from me. Well, the truth is, I have something even better. I'm moving back to the states. I'll be starting at Buckley at the beginning of the year. In fact, it's why I'm home for so long. I have to find a place to live before I start my duties."
For a moment, the house is silent, then they both stand up and cheer as they go to hug him.
I sit there on the sofa, unsure of what to do or how to react.
My heart pounds in my chest as my mind starts to race.
He'll be close. So close. If I go to hug him too, will he accept it?
Or will he push me away because of all the awkwardness?
After a bit, I stand and hug him as well, and nearly melt into his arms as he engulfs me.
There's something so safe here, so warm and inviting.
His scent surrounds me, his body solid and strong against mine.
I want to burrow into him and never leave.
If only he wasn't my stepbrother. If only he were someone who could take me away from everything.
"Hold everything," my father cries out. "Buckley? Aurora. As in about thirty minutes away from Colorado University Denver? As in, where Lily is going to school?"
He stiffens under my grasp, and I can feel the tension coiling inside him. His muscles turn rigid, his breath catches in his chest. Does the idea of being near me disgust him that much?
"Yes?” he hedges. “I believe that's the one. To be honest, I didn't investigate the colleges around there since I already have my degree."
"Don't you see," he waves him off. "This is perfect. Serendipitous. You have to find a house, and I'm sick and tired of paying for Lily to stay in those horrible dorms with all those horrible Alphas and bad influences. Why don't you both just room together?"
I drop my arms as if burned as I look up at Nate. The glare in his eyes is nearly murderous. Does he think this is somehow my fault? My idea? More to the fact, how is this even fair to him or me?
What I want is freedom, not another cage my dad can control. I don’t want to be trapped in a house with Nate, the one man I can’t have, can’t want, but my body doesn’t seem to care. Besides, living with my stepbrother won't help anything.
I have to speak now before we all go too far. "I don't think—"
"You're not seeing the big picture here, Lily," he cuts me off.
"With you living with Nate, none of those Alphas will come sniffing around.
I won't have to worry about you as much.
It's done. Find a place—a good place—and I'll put up her half of the rent.
Done. Easy peasy. Now let's clean up this mess and start the house hunt. "
I stand there, rooted to the spot as Nate nearly snarls at me.
Fury fumes in his gaze as he yanks the paper away from my feet.
It’s like I'm the worst thing that's ever happened to him, like this is all my fault.
It's not as if I wanted this too. It's not as if I chose to have Dad shove me off on him.
Anger swells in my chest as I turn to helping.
The quicker everything's clean, the quicker I make my own plans, plans that have nothing to do with being the good girl my father wants.
Step one, get in with a local rut clinic so I can finally get rid of this fucking virginity and make some good cash.
I just need to let some Alpha fuck me properly, stretch me out, make me scream.
Step two, fuck as many Alphas as it takes to no longer be "daddy's Little Lily." However many it takes to become the slut I read about in my books. As many as it takes to be the same type of omega who takes cock after cock until she's ruined for anyone else.
Step three, make enough money to make my own choices for fucking once.