Page 94 of The Omega Exchange: Omnibus (The Exchange)

Chapter Eight

Oliver

Being genius-level intelligent is a gift, but it’s also a curse. Add in the fact that I have off the chart eidetic memory skills, and it’s easy to get trapped in replaying events.

In the moment, I rarely realize when people are making fun of me or someone considers my behavior off-putting.

It’s later once my anxiety and adrenaline settle down that my brain decides it would be an excellent time to replay every nuance of the conversation. That’s when I tend to recognize that I did something embarrassing.

I spend hours obsessing over every second of my time with Melody. The only thing that gives me a glimmer of hope is that in all the times I replay the conversation, she seems more amused than mortified or appalled.

I might be crossing a line right now, but I don’t care. I need answers. I use one of the all-access key cards to open the door and carefully slip through the suite.

It’s dark with all of the curtains pulled.

As quietly as possible I open the door to the bedroom and tiptoe inside.

This is a covert mission . . . Until I spot Carver all sprawled out like he doesn’t have a care in the world. The urge to smother him with a pillow is strong.

“Why the fuck were you all over Melody last night?” I snap, leaning over his bed.

Fine, maybe my covertness was unnecessary, especially since I just ruined my advantage.

I easily recall details once I’ve learned them, and I read a lot. It’s not unusual to come across random facts that can be used to cause pain and suffering.

He really should be more aware of his surroundings.

He was in the military just like Miller. It’s why they both go by their last names, or maybe it’s because they’re part of our security team. I don’t know, but I’m annoyed by everything to do with him at the moment. Especially since I know how easily women seem to fall for his tacky charm.

“Are you ever going to answer me?” I snap.

My glasses slide down as I lean over. I shove them up, but I end up jabbing myself in the nose. My ADHD is always worse when I don’t sleep. I’m a jittery mess, but this is serious.

“Oliver?” Carver groans, rolling over to face me. “What the hell, man? I worked a double yesterday. What time is it?”

“Five after eight,” I reply, reminding myself that I don’t want to end up incarcerated.

Murdering a friend without prior planning would lead to me getting caught. Meaning I have to be smart and fight the alpha fog that’s trying to slip in.

“How did you get in?” he mumbles. He’s the only one of us not staying in Nik’s moms’ penthouse. He could have, but he’s not part of our pack.

I guess he wanted his own space.

“I used a key card. Catch up,” I snarl. “What happened between you and Melody last night? Who was on the phone?”

I frown, swiping curls away from my face. They’re so annoying. I bump my glasses and haphazardly rearrange them because I need to look serious and imposing right now.

I wasn’t supposed to mention that I spent the last few hours watching every second of their interactions from the time they left her suite until he returned her over an hour later.

I’m pretty sure that would make me sound creepy, which I’m not.

“I’m sleepy,” he groans, grabbing my arm. “Cuddle with me and think soothing, sleepy thoughts.”

“I’m going to murder you.” I slap away his hand, but he’s stronger than he looks. He yanks me into the bed with little effort.

“She called for a security escort. I wasn’t about to let any of the night shift guys take the call, so I brought her to the gym . . .” He goes on to explain about her drunk ex calling repeatedly. He pulls up the blanket. “I’m cold, snuggle close.”

I frown.

We’re coworkers and I guess friends, but not the type of buddies that cuddle in bed on a Sunday morning. However, it is kind of chilly in his room, so I kick off my shoes and pull my legs up onto the bed.

“Stay on your side,” I grumble, crossing my arms over my chest. “Are you interested in her too?”

“She’s really fucking pretty,” Carver mumbles, tossing an arm over my stomach. “Just enough curves that you can tell she’s an omega, but it almost seems like she doesn’t realize she’s the one in demand. By the way, her ex is a fucking dick.”

I continue to frown at his heavy arm, which is still touching my person.

He goes on to explain everything that her ex said. It sounds like he’s an absolute asshole.

It would be nice if humans were programmable like video game characters. I wouldn’t turn down the ability to psychically murder him from across the country.

“I get the feeling the way he was talking last night wasn’t unusual,” he finally finishes. “I think he convinced her she was lucky anyone wanted her at all.”

My mind races. I nod my agreement. She didn’t seem aware that the masses will descend upon her at the first mixer or group activity she attends. That succeeds in sending a pang of pure panic through my system.

“You’ve never had a girlfriend, and she’s coming out of a problematic relationship with an asshole who didn’t know how to keep his dick in his pants,” I say, gripping the caveman’s arm and lifting it off my middle.

It falls to the mattress with a heavy thump.

“If you do a single thing to fuck up my pack’s chances of courting her .

. . then I’ll find a very obscure way to murder you.

It’ll be so completely random that no medical examiner would ever think to check for it. ”

I shove off the blanket and prepare to push myself out of Carver’s bed.

“You’ve never had a girlfriend either,” he muses, petulantly tossing up his middle finger.

“Yes, but I also don’t have a reputation of sticking my cock in anything that moves,” I retort, rearranging my glasses.

“That was unnecessary,” Carver says, grabbing a pillow and chucking it at my head. I barely duck in time. “Get the hell out if you’re going to be an asshole.”

“Remember what I said because I meant every word,” I assure him before spinning to leave his suite. “Keep your distance if you aren’t serious about putting in the effort required.”

By the time I make it to the restaurant I’ve already pulled up everything I can find on Melody Webber. I’ve got her family history at least as far as legal documents and medical records go.

I’ve also got the basics on Benjamin Hall. He’s a total dick. He’s been arrested multiple times for drunk and disorderly conduct and fighting. He’s a stereotypical alpha on the edge of going feral.

It’s concerning because my doctors have made it clear that I’m edging my way there faster than they’d like. They make it seem so easy to find an omega and soak up their soothing pheromones.

It’s fucking not. Not by a long shot, even being at The Exchange hasn’t helped.

Over the last two weeks, I’ve sniffed scent cards all day and never felt so much as a twinge of attraction . . .

Not until Melody.

They aren’t fucking joking about the pull between compatible alphas and omegas. It’s an undeniable connection. Her scent immediately sends a jolt to my cock every single time I catch a whiff of it, but more than that . . .

I actually want to touch her.

I very rarely crave sex. That’s not to say I don’t have sexual desires because I do, but I know I’m more than capable of jerking off and getting the job done.

Human contact, for the most part, seems like a lot of work just to have an orgasm.

Or it did until Melody fluttered her lashes at me while saying it’s a compliment that I have an unnatural and unmatched addiction to her scent.

I scan the restaurant and quickly determine Miller and Melody aren’t here.

It’s weird.

His plan was to bring her to breakfast so we could all discuss the contract.

Yanking out my phone, my jaw falls as I get a look at the screen.

Miller, Nik, and I have a group chat, and it exploded while my phone was in my pocket.

I briefly scan through the messages as my brain races through what all this means. Melody was feverish and perfuming when Miller found her. He brought her up to the nest in the penthouse and called the nurse practitioner to do an emergency consult.

Shit, how did I miss so much happening in such a short amount of time?

They say things move fast with omegas, but I never realized it could be quite this quick.

I spin around and leave the restaurant. I need to be there now.

The building might be a hotel, but Nik’s moms converted the entire floor on this side of the building into a massive penthouse apartment.

It’s nice, I guess. I mean it’s pretty and has a lot of stainless steel and cream walls, but it’s also not very warm or welcoming.

It comes off more like a high-end apartment than a comfortable, warm, and cozy home.

I shove my glasses and shake out my hands.

I hope Melody likes it.

If she doesn’t then I’ll take her and head home to Virginia. If she doesn’t like our house then she can pick her own, wherever she wants.

Well, if she likes us and wants to keep up a more permanent relationship.

“What’s happening?” I ask, pushing myself forward so I don’t stand frozen obsessing about what ifs.

“She wasn’t in good shape when I found her,” Miller says, swiping a hand over his face. He’s pacing the floor bare in the sunken living room. “She’s in heat or going into it . . . Fuck, we didn’t even get to go over the personalized contract.”

“She signed the generic one,” I remind him.

The standard agreement has all an omega’s dos and don’ts before they even arrive. It’s to protect everyone in case an omega goes into heat immediately. It’s extremely important because of consent. Once an omega is in heat, they’re more likely to give into the fog.

I know the nurse practitioner will be verifying that Melody is comfortable with us and going over the basics that she agreed to before arriving.

This is a good thing, I remind myself. She created that guideline well before her heat hit, meaning she was clear enough to fully think through each option. I signed it last night, but I do wish we could’ve done a specialized contract.

My mind won’t stop racing through all the facts.

My stress is sky high.

Miller looks worse than I feel. He’s clenching and unclenching his hands and weirdly shaking out his arms.

It seems like he’s preparing to go into battle.

Exactly how bad of shape was she in?

“I’m sure Farrah is going over all the important stuff to get clarification. Was she okay?” I frown.

I was trying to find a way to put him at ease and that last question slipped out.

“She spent most of the night in agony, and she didn’t call.” His head falls back as it shakes. “Why didn’t she call? She said she didn’t want to bother us while we were sleeping.”

“Shit,” I whisper.

I don’t like the sound of that at all.

She’s not a bother.

Heats are an integral part of alpha and omega biology. It sends compatible alphas into rut, which helps lessen our aggressive nature. It’s strange to think about, but it does help us stay calmer overall if we participate in helping an omega through their heat.

It doesn’t hurt to be around them regularly either as their pheromones soothe our system. I’m aware I’m at a higher risk than normal for my age group to end up feral.

It’s a terrifying thought considering I already view my brain as my greatest strength and simultaneously weakness.

“Where’s Nik?” I ask, glancing around. Thinking too much is a dangerous rabbit hole to go down.

“He’s in a meeting with Kiernan,” he says, staring at the hallway that leads to the nest. “I want to be in there knowing what’s happening.”

“I get it,” I agree. “Why would she be worried about being a bother? It’s basically our entire purpose in life.”

“I don’t think her shitty ex helped matters any.”

I’m starting to see a real pattern. First Carver mentioned it and now Miller. It’s hard to believe anyone could take her for granted.

The door opens down the hallway and commotion heads our way.

Claude smirks when he catches sight of us.

Farrah Chamberlain is right behind him.

I’ve seen her twice since we’ve been here. I had to get special clearance to be around any omegas because of my diagnosis.

“Is she okay?” I ask at the same time Miller says, “How is she?”

“Melody is in the final stages of pre-heat,” Farrah says, pulling her bag off her shoulder and handing it to Claude.

“She passed the coherency test by the skin of her teeth, but I honestly think she’s mentally more aware than most omegas we see at this stage.

She’s just in a tremendous amount of pain, which is hindering her ability to focus enough to rate clearer on the scale. ”

“What does that mean?” Miller asks.

“She’s asking for you,” Claude says, grinning widely. “All three of you actually.”

Miller and I head toward the corridor.

“She needs regular temperature checks. Alphas are better equipped to handle an omega’s heat spikes and as such you might not notice. I suggested having a monitor . . .” Farrah glances between us, sighing loudly.

We continue inching toward the hallway.

“I’m having Carver check in since he’s the one you’re most comfortable with. Don’t do anything stupid.” She gives us a look like she doesn’t have high hopes of that happening.

Miller goes rigid next to me. “Did she ask for a monitor?”

“No, she declined, but it’s within our purview to assign someone,” Claude says, chuckling. “It really is wild how every single alpha loses the ability to think rationally around an omega in heat.”

“Take care of her,” Farrah instructs needlessly. “I get the feeling she thinks heats are mostly spent suffering. If the three of you aren’t enough—”

“We won’t leave her in pain due to the fact we don’t share well,” I assure her.

“Miller, can I speak to you for a moment?” she asks.

I ignore them because she didn’t ask for me and aim for my omega.