Page 213 of The Omega Exchange: Omnibus

I frown at the concoction. I much prefer sweeter options like glazed baby carrots, but I suppose it does fit with the dish he’s currently serving her.

“How are you liking everything?” Oliver asks, leaning across the table.

I nearly snicker. If he stretches much further, he’s going to be in her lap.

“She hasn’t gotten the chance to see much outside of the nest in her room,” Miller says, holding out his fork.

“I’ll eat this bite, but I’m getting full,” Melody says, wrapping her puffy lips around the silverware.

“Did you get dessert?” Oliver asks, eyeing the table like he’s looking for evidence they had that first.

“No,” Miller says, chuckling.

“I’d love to see what they’ve got up there. There’s always room for a few bites of dessert,” she says, bumping her shoulder against Miller’s. “This guy wouldn’t even let me browse until Iate the meal.” She says the last few words mimicking his voice.

It makes me ache to devour her whole. She’s fucking adorable. There’s something about her energy that’s intoxicating.

“You’ll go with her?” Miller asks Oliver.

Oli nods, scooting into my side like he’ll fling me out of the booth if necessary.

I stand as Miller does the same.

Oliver climbs out and Melody’s jaw falls as she tilts her head higher and higher before giving a small smile. He might be skinny as hell, but he’s tall like a Viking or something.

They head toward the buffet, and I notice Miller’s eyes are glued to them. “She’s a match for all of us, isn’t she?”

“Fuck yes,” I agree. “And she didn’t recognize me.”

My packmates don’t understand my newfound obsession with anonymity. Being recognized has become increasingly tedious over the years.

I’ve forgotten what it’s like to have to win a woman over with my charm and not the star power of my name or my former ability to throw a football. But more than that, I worry what happens if I lead my pack into a bad match.

I’ve dated here or there and even come across omegas from time to time, but they only had interest in me. That type of favoritism would be the death of a pack.

I’m only interested in an omega who wants all of us equally.

I trust Miller with my life and safety on a regular basis.

I view Oliver like the younger brother I never had.

They deserve to be loved and cared for and not considered extra cocks to be pulled out during a heat.

“How are we going to approach the conversation?” Miller crosses his arms over his chest. I’m not sure what he means. It could be courting in general or addressing who I am. “She was crying when I found her earlier.”

“Why?” I ask, turning to face him. “Did someone do something to upset her?”

“Not that I know of,” Miller replies. “She didn’t feel well when she first got here. Maybe she’s just overwhelmed.”

“I don’t like not knowing the full scope of the issue.” I yank at my shirt sleeves.

Miller sighs. “Here they come. We can talk more about it later.”

“It’s interesting that you went for the pina colada pie,” Oliver says, holding a plate full of dessert. He’s got his other hand on her lower back and she doesn’t seem uncomfortable as they approach.

“Why is that?” Melody moves to slide into her side of the booth.

“Because you smell a bit like it,” Oliver says, taking a seat on the other side. He pushes the plate between them and Melody immediately goes for her spoon.