Page 83 of Puck Your Friend

Did he not hear I’m an Omega?

I rub at my face. “I’m an Omega and a liability to the company if I make some Alpha lose control on a job.”

He hums. “Oh, I suppose that’s true. I hope they let you come back. You’re one of the best producers I’ve ever worked with.”

Tears prick the corners of my eyes. Shit. I cried yesterday, and it’s like I can’t shove them back down now that the dam is open.

“Thanks, Doug. That means a lot. And I’m sorry for lying.”

I can almost hear him shrug through the phone. “Ain’t no problem with me. And I still don’t care. I just hope you can come back. I can go film for us, and if you email the questions, I can ask them. We’ll make this work until you can come back.”

I swallow hard to keep my voice from shaking. “You’re a good man, Doug.”

He clears his throat harder. “Well, I’ll leave you be for now. We can figure out a time to meet up for editing later. You’ve had a rough week. Recoup, okay?”

“Sounds good. Thanks for checking in. Talk to you later.”

He hangs up first, and I lie here for a second. At least he doesn’t hate me for lying.

My phone buzzes against my chest, and I pick it up. The screen turns on with a notification from our group chat.

Wes:

Morning, Gorgeous. If you’re up, coffee’s waiting. I’ll toast a bagel when you come down.

My smile turns into a wide grin, and I find the momentum to climb out of the nest.

New washed clothes are folded in a basket near the closet, some stuff we bought last night. Dellum’s about forty-five from here, and I didn’t feel like making them do the drive twice. I’ll get the rest of my clothes while we’re there. I’ll probably keep wearing their hoodies and shirts when I don’t have to be presentable for work.

I pull on black leggings and Wes’s navy blue college hoodie. It’s too big, the sleeves long enough to hide my fingers, and it smells like him.

I step out of the room and shut the light-blue door behind me.How did they pick my favorite color?I don’t think I ever told them my favorite shade of blue, just that it is my favorite color.

The smell of coffee hits first.

I follow it down the stairs and into the kitchen, tugging the sleeves of Wes’s hoodie over my hands. Floorboards creak. A chair scrapes. Music filters in low from the speaker by the fridge, some kind of mellow rock, probably from Ford’s playlist.

Wes stands by the toaster, peeling a bagel in half.

Logan sits at the island, phone in one hand, tapping out a message with the other.

Ford gives me a smile as he glances over his shoulder at the sink, washing something. “Morning, Love.”

Jace meets me halfway, holding out a matte black travel mug. He nudges the cup into my hand and brushes his lips across my temple. “Morning, Frankie.”

A small smile tugs at my lips. “Morning.”

I step into the kitchen and stand at the island next to Logan. Wes moves toward me, bagel in hand, a napkin tucked underneath. Cream cheese already melts at the edges.

He grins. “Last one. Claim it or lose it.”

I take it. The bagel and the space they’ve made around me, as if we’ve done this every morning for years.

Logan glances up from his screen. “Movers are about ninety-minutes out from Dellum. We should head out soon if we want to beat them.”

My heart hammers a bit. “I bet getting movers last minute wasn’t cheap. I can send money to whoever booked it.” I pull out my phone.

Ford comes over and places his hand over my screen before I can unlock it. “We’ve got it.”