Andi
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Beck asks, his brows drawing down in concern.
“I’ll be fine,” I say, offering him a reassuring smile. I push his shoulder gently, and he sighs.
“Okay, if you’re sure.”
I’ve been doing more video editing with Cameron. There’s something special about having someone you have creative chemistry with. It’s a little hard to explain how I feel when I barely have to say three words before he understands exactly what I’m talking about.
All that to say, I understand the neuroticism involved around an art form. Personally, I think Beck’s album will sound fantastic, regardless of the order of the songs, but I respect and understand that there’s more to it than that.
“Seriously, I’ll be fine. I’ll have Eli to protect me,” I say, leaning to the side and bumping Eli’s shoulder with mine—technically, it’s more like I bump into his elbow, considering the height difference. “Though I don’t think he’ll have to do much against Nancy.”
“You’re right, I’m just a worry wart,” Beck says, leaning forward and brushing his lips against mine.
“Go enjoy your facial!” I say, pushing him towards the door.
“Okay, okay. Next time, you’re coming with me!”
“You know it,” I giggle.
As someone who’s grown up in the industry, I know exactly how much effort goes into people maintaining their appearance, but I also grew up around a cast that was predominantly female, so I never considered that men also put a whole lot of effort in, too.
Outside of his hair, Ezra barely ever did anything to his appearance, but Beck is going in for a facial at the place in the same building as Nancy’s office. Turns out, my therapist selection was useful for more than just lying to Gina about where I was.
“Thank you for coming with me,” I murmur, giving Eli’s large, calloused hand a squeeze.
“Where else would I be?” he huffs, rolling his eyes.
“Getting a facial with Beck?”
He just stares at me, an amused tilt to his lips.
“Do you really think I’d be able to sit still while some lady touches my face?”
“Don’t be sexist. You could arrange a session with a male esthetician, if it makes you feel better.”
“I have to take you and Beck into consideration, so it looks like all estheticians are out, regardless of gender.”
“We’re not that territorial,” I huff.
He just raises a single brow.
“I have an excuse, okay! Omega Shock Syndrome is a serious diagnosis.”
“I am an equal opportunity hater when it comes to other people touching me,” Eli says, his voice a low growl that vibrates through my chest. “You and Beck are the only people I will tolerate.”
“Hmmm, I guess Beck and I could take a few classes or something… when he has the time. We could take those massage courses and practice on each other before we practice on you.”
“Only if I get to watch.” His lips peel back in a predatory grin. I can practically see the dirty thoughts running through his mind of Beck and I slicked in oil, rubbing each other down.
“We’re in public,” I hiss, my mouth watering at the way his blood orange scent thickens in the air.
“Mhmm, we are. But this is a rather empty building.”
“I’m not doing this with you!” I say, letting out an exasperated laugh as we finally make it to Nancy’s office.
I feel my new phone buzzing in my back pocket as the door to her waiting room closes behind us.
My scent sours immediately, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. I’ve had these really sharp, aggressive reactions to stress recently. It’s honestly pretty annoying. It’s like my body hasn’t gotten the same memo as my mind that I’m safe now.
“You okay?” Eli murmurs, his brows drawing down as he scans my face.
“Yeah,” I rasp.
My hand trembles as I reach into my pants and pull out my phone. It’s just a notification from my social media.
Cameron and his news outlet released the trailer for the first episode of our docuseries that will be releasing later this month. He and I edited the entire thing, piecing together clips from my childhood and current confessionals where I talk about my experience.
It was pretty cathartic, setting things up like I remember from the set of The Real Omegas of Beverly Hills. Except this time, I was in control from start to finish.
Because of the conservatorship case that’s still technically ongoing, the media is absolutely buzzing about the opportunity to learn more about me and what all went down.
Life gave me lemons, so why not capitalize on them and turn them into lemonade?
Even though it’s just a notification of people responding to the trailer I reposted onto my social media pages, my heart won’t stop racing. I’m half expecting Gina’s name to flash up on this phone, even though it’s brand new and there’s no way she could track this device.
Edison and I even got me a brand new phone number.
“Hey,” Eli says, pulling my phone from my hand.
“Hey!” I say, reaching for it.
“You’ve been staring at it for the past minute,” he murmurs, tucking it into his back pocket. “I’ll give it back in a second. Talk to me, Princess. You okay?”
“I said yeah,” I huff, crossing my arms over my chest.
He has the audacity to just look concerned. He doesn’t even have that smug smirk that lives on his face when he knows he’s right and I’m wrong.
“Fine! That’s—that’s not exactly true. I’m not, but that’s why I’m going back to therapy, right?”
“Yeah,” he nods, opening his arms.
My spine seems to melt at the open invitation, and I cling to him. He sways from side to side, rocking me like I’m a colic baby as I match my breathing to his.
“You’re really good at this,” I mumble.
“Got a lot of practice with Beck,” he shrugs.
“I’m glad I’m getting to spend time with you. I feel like we haven’t had a lot of opportunities for one-on-one time recently.”
“Yeah, but it’s okay.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, pulling back so I can narrow my eyes on him.
His lips quirk up, and he shrugs.
“I mean, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous as fuck when you came back with Everett drenched in his scent last week.
But I also know that regardless of the time we’ve been able to spend recently, you’re just as much mine as any of theirs.
Plus... I got to spend a decent bit of alone time with you before Gina went all crazy. ”
“I think she was always crazy.”
“Fair point,” he concedes. “Believe it or not, I’m actually patient.”
“What?” I gasp, mockingly. “You? Patient?”
“Yeah, when it comes to the things that matter to me.”
The door to the main part of Nancy’s office opens, and I gently pull away from Eli.
“Andi,” Nancy says, her expression breaking out into a smile that I can only describe as relieved around the edges. “It’s so good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too!” I reach up and rub the back of my neck. “Long time no see, huh?”
“Indeed. This must be one of your pack members?”
“Yes, this is Eli. Eli, meet my therapist, Nancy.”
“It’s good to meet you. Thanks for helping Andi out,” Eli says, offering the other omega a polite nod in greeting.
Nancy returns it with a nod of her own.
“It’s good to meet you too, Eli.”
The two of them don’t shake hands out of respect for me. I’ve realized since being freed that my inner omega is a territorial bitch when it comes to my guys, especially my alphas. I’m not quite sure what’s going on hormonally, but I’m glad everyone in my life has been understanding so far.
It’s very like Nancy to pick up on that without me having to even mention it. She is a professional, after all. I’m so glad I found her.
“I’ll be waiting for you out here,” Eli murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of my head.
“Okay,” I say, flashing him a smile and squeezing his hand before I follow Nancy down the hall and into her office. It’s exactly the same as my last visit.
It feels the same, too. Warm. Safe. Stable.
Exactly what I need when I still feel like I’m stumbling through the rest of my life, despite my best efforts. Maybe some of it is the Omega Stress Syndrome, but I think a lot of it comes from the trauma of everything I just went through.
“So,” I say, running a hand through my hair as I curl up on the familiar corner of the couch opposite Nancy’s armchair. “What do you know?”
“Well... I figured out why your email was disconnected when I saw the headlines.”
“Damn, Gina nuked my emails too?” I wince.
It would make sense why Everett and the rest of the guys insisted I get a completely new phone number, email address, and bank information. I assumed it was just so Gina couldn’t track me, but I guess that wasn’t the only reason.
“It seems so,” Nancy nods. “She, or someone on her team, managed to cancel your debit card as well.”
That revelation leaves me shocked. I didn’t know that.
“I went to charge your card the cancellation fee when you missed your appointment, before I realized why you missed the session, and it bounced.”
“Wow,” I breathe out.
I knew, on paper, that because I was stuck under the conservatorship, Gina had control over all my finances, but it’s still a little shocking to hear about the consequences in real life.
I purposely used that debit card so she wouldn’t be able to track my expenses like she was able to with my credit card.
I guess she really wanted me well and truly isolated.
“Wait, if that debit card is cancelled, how are you getting paid?”
“Your father, Edison, arranged everything. He was the one who explained the full situation to me and provided the paperwork and documentation about your ongoing conservatorship,” Nancy explains.
I can’t hide my wince. I know technically, on paper, he’s the one that’s legally responsible for me since the courts have basically ruled I’m incapable of doing things myself, but I can’t help but feel guilty that he has to put in so much effort into taking care of me.
“I see that brings up some emotions,” Nancy says, her voice and expression softening as she looks at me.
“Yeah,” I huff. “A whole lot of guilt. He’s basically having to bankroll my life right now. I stay at his place, eat his food, and now he’s paying for my therapy?”