Chapter 40 Tessa
TESSA
TWO WEEKS AFTER ARRIVING IN LOS ANGELES…
I sat on the edge of the pool near the deep end.
Instead of the six or seven bikinis my wardrobe originally included, I was wearing a bright red one-piece.
I had to thank Catalina for that—when I’d mentioned to her how uncomfortable I felt in the two pieces, she’d raced right out to buy me something else.
She wasn’t around much, though Ryder said that was because she wanted to give us all space to bond.
I kind of hoped that would change. Catalina was almost like having a mother figure again.
This suit clung to my body; the rich, deep color shocking against my pale skin.
When I’d first put it on and caught sight of myself in a mirror, I’d thought it made me seem ghostly.
The guys had been gobsmacked when I’d walked out in it though.
Tray had whistled, fanned himself, and jumped into the pool.
I’d tipped my head back and laughed. The sound had caught me by surprise.
It was…almost carefree. A heartbeat after his dramatic jump, Tray had gripped the tiled pool edge and heaved himself back out.
Water had streamed down his chiseled, tawny chest and the sun glinted off his nipple rings.
He was an amazing drummer, but if he sucked at music, he could have a modeling career in a snap.
‘Easier than a cold shower’, he’d quipped then leaning over and shaking his head violently, splashing the other guys with his soaked hair.
Right now, Tray was at the bottom of the pool with Ryder. They were on their fourth battle of wills to see who could hold their breath longer. Do guys ever really grow up?
A determined meow called my attention across the courtyard, and I caught sight of Josie stalking a bird perched upon a low branch of a plumeria tree.
I didn’t worry that she’d catch the little brown thing.
Josie was brilliant at stalking rodents—our life on the street had made them easy game—but birds were too quick for her.
Though, thinking back, she’d nearly snagged a rock pigeon one time.
I kicked my feet slowly in the water, enjoying the coolness.
It was after lunch, the sun high in the sky and brutally beating down on us.
My eyes roved the courtyard. Mac swam quick laps back and forth across the shallow end.
Dixon was in the attached jacuzzi with his eyes closed, hot bubbling water pushed against his body.
His face was peaceful right now. It hadn’t been last night.
Touching my lips, I recalled the wild heat of our kiss.
He’d been so vulnerable.
When he’d pulled away from my body, eyeliner streaked beneath his damp eyes, my chest tightened and my Omega lurched forward, wanting to make everything okay.
That was my job now, wasn’t it? To make life okay for them.
It could be very one sided with the wrong partners.
Not with them though. They were all so focused on making life okay for me too.
Healing together.
Was that why a pack was so important?
Tray’s laugh echoed as he surfaced before Ryder again.
“Beauty before age,” he crowed just as his competition’s head breached the waterline. Ryder sputtered, swiping a slick palm down his face.
“I’m a stubborn old man,” Ryder bantered. “I’d rather suffocate than concede.”
Mac caught my attention as he stood up. He was tall, toned, lean.
Wet, his hair seemed dirty blonde instead of rich gold.
He moved swiftly through the water towards the jacuzzi where Dixon rested.
Instead of exiting the pool and entering the jacuzzi where the steps and railing were, he smoothly hoisted his body over the partition and settled into the hot, undulating whirlpool.
Dixon’s eyes flashed open for a second, taking in the newcomer, and then he crossed his arms and closed his eyes again.
God, his forearms were so damn thick. Tray was just as muscled, but shorter than the other guys.
Ryder had a fantastic swimmer’s body with wide shoulders.
Yet there was just something about Dixon’s height with the rippling muscles that made him seem larger than life sometimes.
Steam rose in lazy swirls around Dixon. His hair, freshly bleached platinum, and light skin glistened beneath the unrelenting sun.
His chest rose and fell rhythmically. He looked like the kind of guy that would be nocturnal, always sleeping during the day.
It would be easier to maintain his vampire pale complexion that way too.
That thought made me smile. God, I’d been so stupid last night, trying to make him feel better.
I’d even compared him to my favorite television vampire.
What had I said... “You’re way bigger than him, but the hair and the rings and the leather.
Even the sexy pirate eyeliner. Dead ringer.
And just so you know, I’ve always been Team Spike.
” By his reaction, I was pretty sure he had zero idea what I was talking about.
I looked up at the sky. Wispy clouds interrupted the robin’s egg blue. Last night it was storming while we played a two thousands era, musical trivia game. Today, it was lovely. I closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth kissing my face. My mind drifted again to my first kiss with Dixon.
“Ninety-eight Degrees!” I shouted in triumph.
Tray groaned in defeat. Mac and Ryder stared at me as if I was an alien who’d memorized all of Earth’s most mundane knowledge.
Dixon, who’d been growing increasingly agitated, growled.
I didn’t know if he was generally a sore loser, or just really pissed that tonight, despite his efforts, he’d not gotten a single question right.
“You’ve swept the game,” Mac said appreciatively.
“You should go on one of those million-dollar question shows. You’d kill it.” Tray admitted begrudgingly.
“Only if every category is music related,” I shrugged. “I did okay in school, but only because of my parents going on and on about my older brothers’ achievements. Every second of freedom I had was spent on music forums and chat rooms and reading old Rock Heat magazines.”
“Well, I think we’re going to have to retire musical trivia. Unless you’ve got weak spots? Jazz? Reggae? Classical maybe?” Ryder teased me, gently tickling my side.
“I know less about jazz… possibly.” I teased back vaguely, letting them wonder if I really was a walking, talking song encyclopedia.
“I need a drink,” Dixon stood. He was gripping the large velvet pillow he’d been holding against his stomach as he leaned forward, desperately trying to spit out an answer.
“No wonder. At least the rest of us got a few right. You goose egged, Dix.” Tray raised his water bottle as if saluting a fallen warrior.
Dixon glared at him, fingers digging into the poor pillow ferociously.
The next thing we all knew, he was ripping the damn thing clean in half.
Goose down and feathers exploded outward, snowing across the living room.
“Son of a bitch,” Dixon snarled. “I just can’t fucking keep it together.
” He dropped the remnants of the pillow and covered his face with a large, trembling hand.
On instinct, I stood up and rushed to him. “It’s just a silly game, Dixon. Completely unimportant. Who cares if I know a bunch of stupid facts.”
“I care,” he grunted out, voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want you to think I’m stupid.”
“Well, you are being stupid if you think I’d care one bit about you knowing this stuff.” I pulled his hand away from his face. We locked eyes. The line between Dixon’s brows had formed, cratering deeply. “I care about a guy who went out of his way to buy me flowers. Happiness flowers, remember?”
Dixon nodded, brow still furrowed. I continued, soothing him with both words and with my scent, which now bloomed outward with notes of chamomile and valerian laced into my normal perfume. Dixon visibly relaxed as the smell struck his body, weaving with his own personal Alpha cologne.
“I care about the guy who rushed out to buy medicine when my stomach was hurting stubbornly eating those spicy noodles last week. And the guy who pushed the shopping cart for two hours yesterday because I had no idea what to buy at the grocery store. Even when someone recognized you guys, you refused to make me cut the trip short despite everyone saying we should leave.”
“We probably should have left,” he’d grumbled. “The day I bought you that succulent, the articles were relentless.”
“Her name is Fiona.” I tried to lighten the mood.
“You named the plant?” He looked at me with innocent, hopeful eyes. How could he be so achingly handsome? How could he be so beautifully broken?
“Of course I named her. She’s mine now. Just like you’re mine now,” I spoke gently, sweetly.
“I don’t know how much longer I can hold shit together,” Dixon whispered in a low, defeated thrum.
I took his hand, gave the other guys a reassuring smile—no one tried to stop us leaving; I saw understanding in all their eyes—and I began to lead Dixon away from the others and towards the pack suite.
Once there, we sat on the bed together. I lifted his hand, tracing my lips against his knuckles.
Just a flutter, light as a butterfly wing beating.
I let my deep-seated need take over. My Omega wanted to make everything okay.
“I’m so sorry this is so hard for you. I’m so sorry I’m making us wait because I’m scared. Scared to say yes. Scared to bond with you guys. Scared that I’ll get too comfortable and then lose everything again.”