Page 20 of Small Town Shy Omega (Applewood Falls #1)

“Well, I have,” I replied, letting my insecurities win. I was moping now: I felt like a very petulant little girl. “Sorry I unloaded on you, Gret. I feel bad.”

“Don’t be so wishy washy,” she said with a laugh.

I hated her astuteness. “One second, I’m in love with them. The next, I’m doubting what we have all over again. I’m indecisive, Gretel—if there was a pill to cure indecisiveness, I’d take it in a heartbeat.”

“Well, what else am I here for?” Gretel chuckled, and I could tell she was sipping some of her famous blueberry wine. It was a proprietary creation: she’d trademarked the recipe herself. “Don’t give up hope. What would the Calhoun sisters do?”

I tapped my finger on my chin.

“I know you didn't just say that,” I laughed, eyeing the Nora Roberts paperbacks on my bookshelf.

“They wouldn’t just let their insecurities win. You know, I was talking to Bronwyn and Haisley the other day.”

“Oh, is Haisley back from her road trip to Grand Teton National Park?” Haisley was an adventurous, badass Omega with strawberry hair and rhubarb-and-gold dust eyes. She rode a motorcycle.

“She got back last week,” Gretel said affirmatively, “though I’m pretty sure she’s heading out again—Death Valley, this time.”

“Oooooooof,” I shivered. Haisley was so badass. I could never take solo trips to the most dangerous deserts on Earth, where hikers routinely died because they got a flat tire. Death Valley sounded spooky.

“Haisley is still recovering from her broken heart, you know,” Gretel said, “and she was talking to Thalia and—"

“Haisley actually knows Thalia?!” I couldn’t believe it. Thalia, the indie singer and writer of Hot Buttered Heartbreak , was something of a local Taylor Swift.

“Yeah,” Gretel said peppery, “and Thalia said that she couldn’t let a past rainstorm prevent her from hiking through the valley ever again. You can’t permit one bad experience to define you, Layla. Give in to love. Try it.”

I thought long and hard about Gretel’s words. I still thought I’d gotten lucky meeting the pack and that I’d fail to impress them when we grew acquainted on more intimate terms.

Still, they brought something out of me that… not many others did. Most Alphas caused me to clam right up: I didn’t want to breathe their air, and they sucked the oxygen from rooms.

The weeks I’d spent with my pack had been splendid, and I found myself thinking that these three gorgeous Alphas were unlike any I’d ever met. In my life.

Never in my life had I received such attention. My heart raced on and on. When they looked at me, I felt my world cease spinning.

When I hung up with Gretel, my phone buzzed with a text.

Blake: Dreydon wants to know if you need any more tasks done today?

I let out a laugh.

I couldn’t help it. This was like something out of one of my paperback novels.

Me: My grandma-pink wallpaper in my nook nest is a little dated?

Blake: My pack mates have a job they’re wrapping up over the next few days for our business, but after they’re done we’ll re-paper your walls.

Blake: What color wallpaper would you like?

Me: Oh, a nice pink would be fine. Just not grandma-pink!

Blake: Your wish is our command :)

They painted my walls. It was incredible, and I got to hang back on the couch, a bag of potato chips in my hands.

“Such a great color,” Blake growled, paint dripping from his brush.

“Hot pink is much more your style, Layla. I never would’ve pegged you for a granny-pink gal.” Josh issued me a devilish smirk.

I laughed, sipping the mug of raspberry tea I prepared earlier.

“I feel like a queen right now, guys. Thank you. No one’s ever painted my walls before.” My Omega purred, and I wanted to let her out; but I resisted the urge, just watching Blake and Josh paint.

Dreydon was nowhere to be found, but I had a sneaking suspicion he was off in my nest hallway. I didn't ask what he was doing. Painting the dingy hallway outside my nest? my Omega purred, and I had to hide my face with my oversized sweater sleeve to conceal my blushing cheeks.

Josh waggled his paintbrush.

“These walls are bubblegum, baby.”

Blake nodded in agreement. “This paint is the color of the gum I used to chew as a kid. Remember how there’s always one kid with a pack of gum in class? Well, that was me.”

“Awwwwww,” I said, unable to believe Blake’s sweetness. “Would you have shared with me?”

“I would’ve given you my last piece.” Blake’s eyebrows did a caterpillar wiggle.

Josh whistled as he swiped pink paint across my walls.

“Damn, it’s been a while since these puppies have been painted. You should’ve called for help earlier, Layla. I doubt we’re the only pack in Applewood Falls who’d help you.”

“You have no idea how wrong you are. Have you seen me, man?” I shook out my purple hair.

“My glasses are thick enough to be soda bottles. I’m not exactly outgoing and parties aren’t my thing.

Most Alpha packs want an Omega they can take out on the town.

They want an Omega that other Alphas will desire. ”

“And you don’t think other Alphas would desire you? Goddamn, Layla—second they see you walking around with us, they’re going to try to jump us, to get to you. You’re stunning… You’re a radiant, sexy goddess. As for us?” Blake asked.

Josh took the conversational ball from Blake.

“We’re men, Layla. Men —not immature boys.

We want the Omega who’s smart. Talented.

Beautiful. Not just a scent or slick match—we want an Omega who has a brain, opinions of her own, and damnit, those curves you’ve got drive an Alpha to growl.

You’re just the right amount of curvy, and your mind is highly refined. ”

“I do read a lot.” My eyes skimmed over to my bookshelf, and I blushed as part of my nearly three-thousand book collection balanced precariously on the white shelves.

The other two-thousand books were in my nook.

“I like reading because it expands my mind. It has nothing to do with what ‘other Omegas’ enjoy doing. For instance, I tried tennis and volleyball, and neither sport was really for me. I’m not into jogging, but I like going to baseball games with my Alpha friends. And I blow glass, of course.”

Josh frowned, a low growl slipping from this throat. “Do you have many Alpha friends, Layla?”

“No, but you three are my friends, right? You’re my closest friends and I hope that’s not wrong or weird to say.”

“Why would it be weird?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I don’t wanna be the type of Omega who’s mainly friends with other Alphas?”

Blake smiled, rubbing my hand.

“You’re not like other Omegas, Layla—and that’s a good thing.

You have a beautiful mind, and when it’s time for your heat you’ll be beautiful, too.

We love your fucking glass. We don’t want you to remove them, ever .

Why? Damn, baby—they let us see your mind.

Your mind is so fucking beautiful, and it’s an honor that you share it with us. Every single day.”

Blake’s words were so kind, and I sniffled as I rubbed my eyes. “Blake…” I muttered, hardly able to speak.

“Hey,” Josh whispered, sitting on the floor in front of me.

He didn't sit on the couch, presumably because he and Blake were both covered in paint. “I can’t hop up on that couch to hug you, but I’ll hold your hand.

You can talk about your stepsister all you want, Layla.

Talk about your stepparents. Your ex-pack, your former mother-in-law. It’s okay. Blake and I will listen.”

“I expected as much,” I said, stifling a giggle. “You two don’t have to kneel in front of me. Really.” This was a bit overkill.

Josh frowned, rubbing my hand. And Blake growled out, poetically rubbing my left wrist.

“You deserve better than what you’ve had, Layla,” Blake said.

“You have a good heart, sweetie,” Josh’s earnest voice rang out.

“Better than most Omegas—hell, many Omegas I’ve met have been closed-minded.

Judgmental. You have a pure heart, and I can tell you’re not like those two awful Omegas I saw walking in the Public Gardens earlier today.

The way they were talking about this poor girl was horrible. ”

“Harmony and Eucalyptus?” I guessed, groaning.

“Maybe,” Josh gritted out, a vein pulsing in his forehead.

“They were so much less perfect and special than you, baby. I could tell right away they thought they were hot shit. Well, beautiful Omegas don’t talk crap behind other Omegas’ back—they support other Omegas, they’re an Omega’s Omega.

Not whatever the hell those two Omegas were doing. ”

“They claim to support other Omegas,” I sniffled, feeling so silly for talking about this in front of two strapping Alphas, and I was grateful they understood. “But they really don’t. Back in high school, they bullied me ruthlessly.”

My soda-bottle glasses tumbled down my face, and the Alphas now could see my tears.

Blake smiled softly, swiping my tears with his educated thumb. I wondered what classical tomes that thumb had flipped through. What wonderful novels.

I pictured Blake, hunched over in front of a window, rain trickling down the glass. He was trying to finish his reading assignment before midnight. The moon shone outside.

“Babe,” Blake growled, his voice deadly serious, “you look so fucking beautiful when you cry.”

“Why don’t you kiss me?”

Blake turned away. He didn't respond.

A change began to come through our little atmosphere. At first, it was hardly noticeable, and I pretended to go along with my days as usual.

I kept my head down, laughing when Dreydon poked me, and always hugged Josh after he whipped up fabulous breakfasts.

But the change… was inescapable, and after a while, I began sensing… things.

Flurries entered my heart, where they hadn’t before. I began reading darker novels, ones with covers that weren’t so pastel or pink.

Most times, I gravitated toward feel-good reads, and they made me happy inside.