Page 10 of Coco and the Misfits (The Candyverse #4)

COCO

I watch him leave, fighting a new surge of panic.

Stop it, I tell myself. Enough. You’re fine. Nothing happened.

You don’t need a knight in white armor to keep saving you. A silver fox in a tailored suit, either. You can’t let this little incident terrify you. Take this weekend and regroup. Buy a pepper spray. And get back into the saddle.

That’s the way to do it.

So the moment the door closes on Atticus’ powerful back, I make myself get up and brew some coffee.

Then I scrounge up some chocolate cake and cream.

And then... I break down and call June.

Not proud of myself for this. It’s just for now, I repeat to myself, just for today. I’m still kind of shaky, and I don’t want to be alone.

She picks up after a few rings. “Coco. Are you all right?”

Of course that’s the first thing she’d ask, and relief floods me. “Yes... no. I don’t know. Could you...?” I swallow hard. “Could you come down for a bit?”

She says nothing for long seconds. They feel like minutes. Hours.

“June?” Anxiety closes my throat. “Please?”

“So now you want me with you?”

“What? June...” I sigh. “Of course I do.”

“Or should I call Atticus?”

“Come on, June. What are you saying?”

“You chose him over me last night, and how well do you know the guy? I thought I was your best friend.”

“You are!”

“So you say now. Anyway... gimme five and I’ll be down.”

She hangs up and I sit in a kitchen chair, staring down at my phone. Is she still upset? Is she… jealous? Of Atticus staying with me? I didn’t see this coming. Then again, I’ve never had a meaningful relationship outside of my family and friends. Does she feel pushed aside?

Can’t have that. She has to know she’s important to me, and I have to show her that, if she’s feeling insecure.

It takes her longer to arrive, and the moment I open the door, I yank her inside. “June?—”

“Is he gone?” she hisses.

“Yes.”

“I’m—”

“I have coffee and chocolate,” I rush to say, “please, stay?”

Her mouth twitches and she shakes her head. “Of course I’ll stay, you silly girl.”

I fight the sting in my eyes. “You’re not upset with me?”

She gives a long-suffering sigh. “I’ll survive. It was weird that you let him sleep with you after what happened.”

“He didn’t sleep with me! I mean, he did, but didn’t.”

“Yeah, that makes perfect sense... not ?”

“He slept beside me, but nothing happened between us,” I murmur.

“Are you kidding me?”

“It’s the truth,” I say.

A pensive look enters her eyes. “The way he held you, and the way you looked at him... I thought...”

“He was the perfect gentleman.”

“Huh.” She taps a finger against her bottom lip. “Wait, is he into guys only, then?”

“Not sleeping with me doesn’t mean he’s into guys. Though if he is, kudos to him.” Then I frown at her suspiciously. “ Only? Wait. Have you seen him with a guy?”

“Well...” She shrugs, walking into my kitchen and sitting at the small round table. “When he isn’t looking at you, he’s looking at a specific guy.”

“Which guy? Do I know him?”

“I’d say you do.” She giggles. “It’s Zach.”

* * *

“Are you telling me Atticus is making sweet eyes at Zach and I haven’t noticed? Am I losing my touch?” I have served us chocolate cake and coffee. “Next, you’ll tell me Zach was sucking him off behind my back all this time.”

She snorts and inhales cake, then coughs for a full minute while I slap her back. “No,” she finally says and I relax. “Nothing like that.”

“Well, phew. I mean, they shouldn’t be doing sexy stuff without me watching.”

“What,” she says.

“What.” I blink. “Wasn’t that clear?”

“Oh, girl.” She giggles again. “I knew you had a thing for both of them.”

“This face can’t lie, sadly.” I stuff a big piece of cake into my mouth to avoid admitting anything else. “Mftf foffee?”

“Yes, I’ll have some more coffee, thanks.”

I swallow. “You should drink less coffee.”

“Yet here you are, offering it to me. As for you, you were supposed to cut down on sugar.”

“Yeah, well.” I take a dainty sip from my cup. “Stress requires sugar.”

“So you can climb the walls better?”

“Something like that.” I grin at her.

“Ew, your teeth are covered in chocolate.”

“And you have a tick under your eye,” I fire back.

She spits out coffee as she laughs, and then I’m dissolving into giggles, too, and everything seems better with the world.

“Were you really jealous of Atticus?” I ask when we’ve calmed down a bit.

“Maybe a little. I mean, look at the man! I want someone like him giving me looks of adoration, too.”

“He didn’t!”

“He absolutely did! I want a sexy daddy, too.”

“Oh my God, June, you’re out of control.”

Afterward, we lounge on my heart-shaped sofa and watch trash TV, eating fresh popcorn out of the microwave oven.

“What about Zach, then?” she asks after fishing the last popcorn out of the bowl.

“What about him?”

“Are you going to take his class after all?”

“I completely forgot about that. But yeah, now you mention it, it might be a good idea. Self-defense.” I frown. “Or would a pepper spray work better?”

“And that alpha at the bar who got into a fight with Atticus?” she asks.

He had almost slipped my mind with everything happening. “Ryder...”

“He’s an inker.”

“Inker?” I hug a fluffy pillow to my chest and lick salt off my lips.

“Tattoo artist. At Ink and Shadows.”

“Really? You know him?”

“Yeah...” She puts the empty bowl down and picks up a peppermint chocolate from the plate I set on the coffee table in front of us. “I visited once with Gigi, and Ronin introduced us to the other artists.”

I frown and click to stop the stupid zombie movie we are sort of watching. “Right...”

“Atticus came close to punching him in the face.” June sighs. “That was hot.”

“Ryder didn’t do anything wrong.”

“He made you uncomfortable.”

“Have you seen the guy? With the tattoos and lip ring and those muscles...” I lick my lips. “You bet your ass it was uncomfortable. His gaze was a shot to the pussy.”

June cackles. “You were so horny you were uncomfortable?”

“They should sell pantyliners with his name. Picture it. Ryder’s Safety Liners. For when you’re dripping wet and need something to hug your pussy .”

“Coco. You’re crass.”

“Calling things by their name, baby,” I mutter.

“Not very omega-like, that tendency.”

“What can I say?” I shrug. “I’m a special omega.”

She sobers up and looks away quickly. “Yeah, you are.”

That breaks the mood a little.

“Okay,” I say. “Fine.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she whispers. “It’s a cliché, the sweet, innocent omega. Every person is different.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

And if it comes out a little defensive, so what? I’ve been aggressively defensive for most of my life.

Let’s call things by their name. June… makes it look effortless. Being cute and pretty. Being an omega.

It’s not the effort I mind, let me tell you. I enjoy my little rituals so much, my decorating and dressing up, doing my nails, my hair, my make-up. I’m as girly as they come.

She just… is. Girly. Omega-y. Cute as a button without even trying. And good for her! Honestly, she is such a nice babe with such positive vibes that one just wants to be with her. Be like her. Enjoy life just like she is.

But on some days… it gets to me. That I have to work so hard at it and still nobody believes me when I say I’m not a beta or a delta or an epsilon. That I need to keep proving it to them over and over. Why not just believe me and let me be?

Even my parents who love me to bits keep telling me to give up. Even my friends have said it on occasion.

I don’t like being this bitter person. I don’t like being jealous. That’s not who I am.

But then, who am I? Should I give up and abandon my pink dreams? Be more like a beta? Stop dreaming of knots and heats?

Everything is fine. I need to stop wallowing when there is nothing wrong with my life. What’s a little designation dysphoria set against the misery of the world, right?