3. Andi #3
“Pretty sure if my dad knew that I was talking to my therapist, about him half the time, instead of just talking about the addiction and drug issues, he’d cut me off or something.”
“Sounds like him,” I sigh.
One of the things the two of us bonded over was our overcontrolling, fame-hungry, batshit insane parents. My mom and his dad are pieces of work. There’s no other way to describe them. Looks like some things do stay the same.
Our parents and the way we vent to each other about them.
Ezra goes quiet, his expression softening ever so slightly. Is he thinking about the way we used to do this as kids, too?
“How... how were you after... everything? Before this, of course,” he asks slowly, taking long pauses as if he’s not sure if he should even be asking the question. “You don’t have to talk about it—if you don’t want to. But... I want to know.”
“Good, actually. Really good.” The answer leaves my lips easily. It’s the truth. The few months after Ezra and I broke up were the best few months of my life. I think I lived more in that short period of time than I have in the rest of my life combined.
“Because of the male omega?” He’s doing the same tapping exercise against his arm, but his voice is even and controlled. Not accusatory, like it was back in my apartment all those months ago. Ezra sounds genuinely curious.
“Not just because of him,” I say automatically.
My eyes widen ever so slightly at the admission, and I avert my gaze.
Shoot. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. That’s not public information. I’m also not sure if I can fully trust Ezra. What if he lets it slip to Gina somehow? I’m not sure what she’d do with that information, but I have a terrible feeling she’ll use anything she thinks is important to me against me.
That’s always how she’s been in moods like these.
“Not just him, huh?” Ezra repeats. “You found yourself a pack, didn’t you, Andi.”
“Maybe,” I mumble.
“No need to be ashamed about it, it’s your life. Do they treat you well?”
“Yeah. Yeah, they do,” I nod. “It’s... still early. We’re all still growing and learning how we fit with each other, you know?”
My chamomile scent turns acrid, and my lower lip wobbles at the thought of my guys. I shove down my feelings with the last bite of the pathetic salad, relishing the bitter taste this time.
As much as I appreciate Ezra’s new, calmer demeanor, I’d still find the strength I don’t have to chuck him out of this two-story window if it meant seeing my guys again. The reminder that I don’t know when I’ll get to see them again leaves my inner omega thrashing against the walls of my skull.
“Don’t... Don’t tell my mom, okay? Please? She doesn’t know,” I whisper. “She’d fucking freak. She’s never liked the idea of packs, for whatever reason.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” Ezra nods, his expression growing serious. “Promise.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s the least I can do... especially cause...” Ezra shakes his head. For the first time since we’ve started this strange, familiar-but-awkward heart to heart, he averts his gaze.
I know that expression.
He looks guilty.
“What?” I bite out, setting the small ceramic dish on the tray without looking away from him. It makes a louder clatter than I intended, but I can’t bring myself to care. “Ezra. Tell me.”
“My dad and your mom... they want us to pretend to be together again.”
The few mouthfuls of rabbit food threaten to make their way back up my throat—like a fucking cow, throwing up its cud.
I guess that’s what I am now. I’m sure my mom will call me that too,eventually. Probably when we’re getting ready for whatever event she wants Ezra and I to appear at together.
I’m not a Lucky Duck anymore. Honestly, it feels like I have the worst luck in the world.
The anger that squeezes around my throat falls away, replaced quickly by a feeling of cold detachment. There’s no point in being angry because me being angry won’t change a thing.
Is it really that unexpected? This is what Gina threatened after all, if my fake-dating relationship with Beck didn’t work out. Obviously, she had to postpone this part of her plan because my fake-dating relationship with Beck was going swimmingly.
But her strange connection to Jonathan Fletcher and her obsession with seeing me with Ezra would never go away and I was stupid to think that it would.
“Great,” I say sarcastically, my shoulders slumping forward.
“Look, I won’t try anything. I know you have a pack now. But I can’t exactly say no to this kinda shit either.”
“Your dad is really on board with this thing then, huh?” I sigh in understanding.
“He is,” Ezra says, running a tired hand through his hair. His phone buzzes in his pocket and he winces down at it. “Speak of the devil. I’ve gotta go.”
I stand from the vanity, stepping aside to let him pick up the tray, still giving him a wide berth. He doesn’t comment, which I’m grateful for.
“I don’t know when they’re going to let me come see you again, but it’s probably going to be soon, based on their scheming,” he says, holding the tray one handed and reaching up to rub the back of his neck nervously. “See you soon, Andi.”
And with that parting comment, he leaves me alone, my only company, my racing thoughts.