Page 49

FORTY-ONE

Playing: The Color Violet by Tory Lanez

“This is the most cliche thing we have ever done.”

Rory and I stand off to the side while the guys set up the pool table. We’re both holding pool sticks, although I think mine is a bit too short because I keep accidentally getting the blue stuff on my hands. But I am very excited to finally learn this supposedly fun bar game.

Rory, however, is unimpressed.

“Think about it this way, Cranny,” I start, “one day, you may get a role playing pool in a bar. Wouldn’t you want to already know how to play it instead of someone on set explaining it to you?”

She narrows her eyes at me, which makes me laugh. “It’s an absolute travesty that you know me so well.”

“You love me for it. If it can help further your career, it’s not really a waste of time. So, let’s learn something and enjoy it.”

She huffs a heavy sigh before pushing me slightly. “Only because I don’t want to look stupid in this hypothetical scenario. But first things first”—she points at my stick—“isn’t that a bit short?”

We end up doing terribly in the first game. Lucky for us, Ciro isn’t that good either. He cracks a joke after every turn.

Looks like hitting balls with sticks is a useful skill after all.

I’m the one into guys and yet they can maneuver balls way better than I can.

We should get them drunk and then hold our pity win above their heads for the rest of our lives.

Ciro’s sassiness leaves us laughing after every turn, even the guys are laughing at his jokes despite their competitive spirit.

The drinks are flowing, and Rory and I are in the middle of losing the third game against the alphas when someone comes upon our table. Her fiery hair is curling around the edges and her eyes widen as they meet mine.

“Hi,” she squeaks before looking around her shoulder nervously.

Warning bells immediately go off in my head. I look over at Rory and see she’s thinking the same thing.

“Hi there.” Ciro’s enthusiasm—and perhaps liquor courage—causes the volume in his voice to spike.

“Are you okay?” I cut in, earning concerned glances from the guys. Kendall puts down his stick, as Atlas waits with patience.

“Um, yes. Technically. ” She goes to mess with a wisp of hair, pulling at it in a compulsive movement. “I just need some help.”

She whispers the end of her sentence, so Rory and I lean in closer.

“Is someone bothering you?” My best friend asks, her expression already furious.

The girl winces as she tries to find the right words.

“One of my friends set me up on a blind date and he’s…

gosh he’s just awful .” She takes another look over her shoulder, “I just need help getting rid of him. I bought myself some time, but honestly, I wouldn’t put it past him to follow me to the bathroom.

And I’ve had too much to drink and I don’t trust car services enough to take one alone. ”

It’s then that I realize she has a distinctive smell. Her soft demeanor and the lightness of her scent—which is fruity but undistinguishable—makes her omega nature apparent.

“Of course we’ll help you,” Rory says and I nod in agreement.

“Would you guys be okay with helping?” I ask my mates, and they all give me the same look of confidence.

Kendall speaks first. “Of course. We’re always up for ruining some creep’s night. You guys just stay here.” He points to Ciro. “You stay here, too. You might be a bit too drunk for a spy mission right now.”

Ciro throws his hands up. “What are you guys going to do? Poke him with your sticks until he goes away?”

Rory leans over to the new omega and whispers, “They’re all hockey players. He’s making a hockey joke, not being a pervert.”

She nods while trying to hide her smile of amusement.

Atlas walks over. “What does this guy look like?”

She winces. “Greasy. A sneer on his face that might just be a medical problem. And he smells like bug spray.” She gags a bit from the memory.

“How unfortunate.” Rory ponders. “I wonder who decides our scents. Do you ever wonder?”

“Yes, let’s get philosophical.” Ciro beams. “It must be meaningful on some level. Otherwise, why else would Atlas smell like a library of all things?”

I put my hand on Atlas’ shoulder. “And chamomile tea. A bookworm’s paradise.”

He gives me that dazzling grin of his before he turns to the others. “We’re going to come up with an excuse and tell him that she went home.”

Ciro raises his hand. “I vote the excuse be diarrhea. Maybe he’s one of those guys that still believes women don’t shit and he’ll go home faster.”

The omega lets out a chuckle. “Better yet, tell him I’m pouring out from both ends and that I’m on the way to the hospital.”

Her statement leaves the four of us in giggles.

“And!” Rory adds. “Tell him that he may need to schedule a doctor’s appointment because her germs fly at the speed of light.”

I hit Rory’s shoulder. “It’s like lice, hopping from one head to the other. Inevitable!”

Ciro bangs a fist on the table and hollers.

My alphas shake their heads at us as we bellow our laughter. Somewhere deep in us, we know it’s not that funny, but that’s what a little bit of alcohol does to you.

“You four be safe.” Atlas places a kiss to my forehead before the three of them walk away. When we let our laughter dissipate, we sit back at our table and pull out a chair for our newcomer.

“Would you like something to eat?” I ask her before putting out my hand. “I’m Stacia, by the way. This is Rory, and this is my beta Ciro.”

Ciro beams in his drunken state at me claiming him. I’m still not use to saying it out loud, but I must admit it feels fucking amazing.

Freeing .

She sits and swings her curly red hair behind her shoulders. “I’m not really hungry after that awful fucking date, but thank you for the offer. My name’s Opal, it’s nice to meet you. Thank you so much for the help. I didn’t think I could take another second.”

Rory takes a sip of her rum and coke, tilting her head. “What happened, if you don’t mind me asking? Also, a date in a place like this?”

“Whoa,” Ciro says, putting out a finger, “don’t say that, we literally brought our omega here. Today. Right now.”

Rory rolls her eyes. “I’m here, too, you goof. I mean like a legit date.”

“My friend set it up. I have no idea where she met that guy, he’s in his fifties. And she chose the place.” She gives a deep sigh. “He’s… the most misogynistic person I’ve ever interacted with. He kept saying things… about omegas. It made me feel sick so I had to get the fuck out of there.”

Rory and I look at each other before looking back at Opal. “This… sounds kind of alarming. Do you think she sent you on a date with him on purpose?”

Opal’s eyes widen. “No, no, there must have been some mistake. For all I know, I was stood up by the real date and I accidentally got into this. I was sitting at the bar, he tapped my shoulder, I said ‘Travis?’ and he nodded his head. That’s the first rule of omega car services, wait until they ask the name.

So, maybe it was a misunderstanding. Just some pervy alpha taking advantage of the situation. ”

I see the look of hope in her face that this was a big misunderstanding. I hope so, too, because if not this “friend” sounds like a real piece of work.

“Well, I’m glad you found us,” Rory remarks. “Though, it probably wasn’t hard, we’re the most fun-looking people in here.”

Opal cracks a smile. “I originally had the idea to sneak through the bathroom window or something, but I was passing by and saw you guys. I felt like this was a safe place to land, so thank you.”

I pull out my phone. “Well, we should all exchange numbers, so if you’re ever in a bind again, or just need a safe place to land?—”

“Or to hang out with new, fun friends—” Ciro chips in.

“Then you’ll have us.” I hand her my phone with a new contact profile open, and she does the same with me.

After we’ve all exchanged numbers, my alphas return. They each look like they’ve emotionally been through the ringer.

“Was it that bad?” Rory asks, her eyes wide.

Kendall winces. “He may be the worst alpha I’ve ever met. I think whoever set you up on this date may have met that guy in an alley somewhere.”

Opal’s shoulders drop slightly, like she really doesn’t want to consider that possibility.

“Well, he’s gone now,” I say before pointing my thumb to the pool table. “So, Opal… do you know how to play pool?”