Page 3 of Knot Your Bridezilla (High Fructose Corn Syrup Verse #2)

AVRIL

Zane insisted on helping me set up my profile on some dating app.

He even went so far as to go through my phone and pick the pictures.

He had to scroll embarrassingly far back in my album to get to my pre-Dylan pictures…

there also might have been a few hundred inspo pictures to help me make decisions for wedding themes and decor.

Zane was saying something about headshots, body shots and lighting.

Something, something—showing genuine authenticity. Whatever.

He even threw together my bio. I took a glance at it before it went live.

Beta hottie, looking for a supportive and committed partner.

Loves exploring new bars and restaurants.

Ready to settle down with the right person —well I guess that was better than saying I needed to find Mr. Right, right freaking now if I had any hope of getting the right monogram for the cake-topper, the ceremony programs, the table signs and everything.

Perhaps it was more realistic to just scrap the monogram idea. It would allow me to incorporate more of the thematic elements that I’d had to cut back on… but I had just found the perfect font for it.

Monogram plans could wait for at least another month. With any luck, I’d have Dylan’s replacement by then.

With a promise to Zane that I would give him all the juicy details, I finally got rid of my nosy little brother and went to bed.

I don’t know much about online dating, but I woke up the next morning to find two hundred and thirty-three matches.

I started to scroll through them, gasping a little. Why were all these men so freaking hot —before I realized…

Oh.

They were alphas.

Why was it always alphas? Alphas flirting, and alphas trying to get my number… but never down for anything more than something casual.

I, Avril Stryker, am well aware that I am just a beta. I learned my lesson about dating alphas early on in my dating career. I’d sworn off all alphas way before I’d even met Dylan.

Alphas might be sexy as all hell, with dream bodies and washboard abs that I literally wouldn’t mind doing my laundry on—brushing all my dripping clothes against gloriously defined muscle… but none of them were ever serious. At least they weren’t serious about me.

Alphas on dating apps were always just passing the time, looking for a hook-up.

They saw me as hot enough to fuck, but all of them were holding out on commitment until the one came along.

For most alphas, the one wasn’t some beta woman.

No, they might not admit it to my face, but they all wanted a dainty little omega.

It was fine. All of this was basic biology.

But I wasn’t about to be strung along until their perfect little scent-matched omega girl came into the picture.

Don’t get me wrong, there would probably be nothing better for my bruised ego than to get under the sheets and do the horizontal tango with one or two of my very delicious matches…

maybe even at the same time. Nothing wrong with letting loose and having a bit of a ho-phase.

It would probably help me build character.

It’s not like I’m too old for a fun little situation-ship, where nothing was ever defined and we were just sort of emotionally playing hide and seek with commitment.

If only I didn’t have this deadline in the shape of tens of thousands of dollars in non-refundable deposits on a venue, catering, a photographer, the reservation for the live artist wedding painter and—okay, I needed to focus and stop getting distracted by dick.

Right now, I needed a man who was gonna put a ring on it, ASAP. A beta was a better bet for matrimony.

I scrolled through my matches. Why didn’t they make some sort of filter for designation? It would make this so much easier.

But when I scrolled to my first beta match, my initial excitement drained fast.

Oh.

He was.

Hmmm.

His face was symmetrical, I guess. Hard to tell, with the huge picture of the fish he’d caught taking up half the photo.

What was up with that? I was trying to date a man, not a fish. I wasn’t sexually attracted to trout.

I swiped through his other pictures, wincing at the fedora tipped at a jaunty angle and the look in his eye that was probably meant to be hot and smoldering, but just made the guy look like he was squinting or a tad bit constipated. Did he have any normal photos?

His next picture was a group picture. But why was he surrounded by girls? Why did some of them look like they were still in high school?

Okay… what was this guy’s name? Brayden?

Brayden probably wasn’t actually a sea of red flags—right? Maybe I was just too sensitive after everything that happened with the last guy I picked.

The good thing about getting cheated on was that the bar was on the floor. Did this guy look like he could keep his balance without losing control and somehow falling cock-first into a wayward vagina? That would automatically make him better than Dylan.

But… I had hundreds of matches; the prince charming beta of my dreams had to be here somewhere between all the alpha matches.

I flipped through another thirty alpha profiles before getting to another beta.

Wait one damn minute…. He actually seemed normal!

No, Avril. I had to mentally shake myself and rein everything in. Remember girl, don’t get excited until you read his bio.

I’m talking to myself. I’m having a rough week with the whole cheating thing and plan to save the wedding, so sue me.

Just looking for something serious. I’m a sucker for a good cup of coffee and a pretty face. Swipe right if you love dogs!

No red flags in his bio either. Who was this guy? His name was Mark.

He didn’t even have a stupid picture of himself holding some large fish.

No. Instead of the fish, he had a picture with a fancy-looking dog—one of those designer poodle mutts that cost about a million dollars.

Another picture showed him smiling while holding a cup of coffee.

The smile was decent, and I liked to drink coffee too.

What more did somebody need in a life partner?

Zane knocked at my door, in the most impatient facsimile of asking for permission—like ever, before he just barged into my room as if he had some legitimate reason to be there.

He sat on my bed, his fingers steepled in contemplation. Zane’s raised eyebrow was saying: so, how did it go? Wordlessly, I unlocked my phone, showing him the app.

“Nice! You’ve got a lot of matches. Are you interested in any of them?”

I flipped to Mark’s profile and held it up for Zane’s inspection.

Zane was watching me as if he was expecting the punchline to a joke.

I just glared at him, deadpan. This wasn’t a joke; this was my entire wedding at stake.

“Okaaay… why him?” Zane was actually bringing the phone closer to his face as if he needed the help to see what he wasn’t seeing.

“He’s the most normal beta man I’ve seen on this app so far.”

“Wow, imagine the stories that you’ll tell your future kids.

That on the dating app, your dad was the most normal guy you managed to find.

” Zane clicked off of Mark’s profile, flipping to a drool-worthy panty-dropping gorgeous specimen of a man with the brightest green eyes I’d ever seen, and a smile that I needed to look away from, before it made me melt. “What about this guy?”

“Obviously, I scrolled past him because he’s an alpha.”

Zane crossed his arms. “And what’s wrong with alphas?”

Oh, shit. Had I insulted my very alpha brother somehow? I forgot that he was an alpha. I mean, he looks like a stereotypical alpha, with the muscles and the charisma… but he’s my brother, so like, it doesn’t register. That’s just him.

“There’s nothing wrong with alphas.” No, the problem, obviously, was with me. “I just don’t want to get dropped for the first omega that comes along.”

Zane enlarged the picture of Mark to somehow prove his point…

as if I was having vision problems or something.

“So this is what you want? Because you think that alphas aren’t going to give you a chance.

” My brother shook his head at me, as if he couldn’t understand what the hell I was thinking.

“I would date betas. There’s no rule that betas and alphas can’t date. ”

“Yeah, but would you marry a beta?”

He was the one who didn’t seem to get that my whole wedding was on the line. I couldn’t fuck around with something as fickle as an alpha’s attention span. What I needed was to think realistically.

“If she was the right woman, yeah.”

“Only problem is that I can’t marry you, and the alphas I’ve met don’t think like that.”

Whatever. Zane didn’t know what he was talking about. I wasn’t about to waste my time letting my brother talk me out of my future.

I scrolled back to Mark’s picture and swiped right.