Page 34 of Coco and the Misfits (The Candyverse #4)

ATTICUS

A plan.

I’ve spent stressed-out days and sleepless nights thinking about her. Worrying about her. Trying to put her out of my mind, and then finding myself getting dressed and walking the streets, always ending up underneath her window to check that her light is on. Making sure she’s okay.

Like a fucking creeper. A stalker.

I know it has to stop. After all, despite my fears, the two assholes who tried to abduct her never surfaced again. Chances are, it wasn’t premeditated and they were drunk and stupid.

Not that it’s an excuse. Bad things could have happened. People are awful, mostly. But that may mean she’s safe. It doesn’t mean the two assholes woke up the next morning with a headache and a guilty conscience and decided to never try anything like that again.

That would be too easy. Too perfect.

I remember their faces. If they ever cross my path, they’ll wish they had never been born, but for now… Nothing I can do.

Am I happy with this decision? Hell, no.

Does it help me sleep at night? You know the answer to that. I’ve been stumbling through the days like a grumpy bear, growling at everyone and wondering why they keep flinching. I haven’t been this bad since…

Well, since I fucked up the last time and broke my life in half.

And now this. Overhearing these two talking about Coco, the plan, the idea of finally doing something for her, something to ensure she’s safe and happy… Damn. Count me in.

I don’t care if it breaks me, plotting her future with another man. I don’t care if it hurts me, if it kills me.

The last time I didn’t get to do that. This is my second chance, my chance to redeem myself and satisfy that primal instinct that insists I take care of her because she’s mine.

She’ll always be mine.

Fuck.

“You need to court her,” I tell him.

“Yeah, Ryder mentioned that. I thought that was an old-fashioned thing.”

“It’s an alpha thing,” I growl. “And the right thing.”

“Hear, hear,” Ryder says. “Omegas like old-fashioned rituals, cub. Young generations may think courting is outdated, but listen to the patriarch.”

I bare my teeth at Ryder. I may have sort of apologized to him, but he still gets my hackles up. Not because I think he’d hurt anyone, not anymore, but there’s a sharpness about him that cuts me to the bone.

“Courting, huh?” Zach mutters.

“I think Coco would be one to appreciate formal courting,” Ryder says thoughtfully. “Right, Atticus?”

“I have that feeling, too,” I say, kind of surprised that he sees her in the same light. “She enjoys being a classic omega with all the frills.”

“Almost like trying to prove something to herself,” Ryder says.

“Or immerse herself in the role,” I say.

We nod at each other. We’re of the same mind.

“You two are weirdos,” Zach grumbles, finishing his drink. His cheeks are flushed. “You’re acting like you’re my older brothers or something. Which is weird.”

“You already said ‘weird’ a couple of times.” I chuckle. “Is it because I slept with her?”

I frown at Ryder. “Or because I slept with her?”

Zach groans. Flags the bartender down. “I need something stronger for this discussion.”

“Zach, am I to understand,” I say, “that you didn’t sleep with her?”

“Fuck off,” Zach slurs.

He’s smashed already.

“He has a knotty problem,” Ryder says.

Zach snort-laughs. “Yeah.”

“Meaning?”

“He pops a knot whenever she’s around. Which puts an actual crimp on his courting.”

“A knot, huh? Well, there is only one solution,” I say.

“Really?” Zach grins. “Let’s hear it. See if you agree with Ryder.”

“Talk to her about it,” I say.

“Are you mad?” Zach hiccups. “She’ll laugh her ass off.”

“Or she may take it as the compliment it is.”

“Ryder recommends I fuck her.” Zach hiccups again.

“That comes right after talking, and only if she wants it,” I caution. “Knotting an omega isn’t that simple. She has to go into heat to be able to take the knot without pain.”

“I know my biology,” Zach grunts.

“She may still want it,” Ryder says softly. “Heat or no heat.”

“What aren’t you telling us?” I say sharply. “You act as if you have insider knowledge.”

“It’s not knowledge.” He looks away. “More like a hunch.”

“Then share with the group,” I say.

“I can’t.”

“Why the hell not? What did she tell you?”

“Nothing. I swear it.” He scratches at the stubble on his jaw. “But you know how you recognize a fellow wounded soul sometimes? I felt that with her. And I feel it has to do with… this.”

“With us?”

“With being an omega. With wanting alphas. The whole fucking shebang.”

“An omega who likes her role with extra frills,” I muse. “Who wants to be dominated and courted. Who may like to be knotted even if she doesn’t go into heat.”

What does it mean? It’s as if the answer is on the tip of my fucking tongue but I can’t speak it, can’t pinpoint it.

“Gotcha,” Zach says. “Courting. Talking. Fucking. In that order.”

“That’s right,” I say, still staring at Ryder. “And report after each act.”