Page 13 of Two For the Show (Trapped On The Tightrope Duet #2)

Play it cool.

I am an iceberg. The milk cooler at a warehouse store. The other side of the pillow.

I’ve got to keep my wits about me.

But it’s hard to when it feels like a thousand confetti poppers have gone off inside my body.

I want to jump up and celebrate, punching the air, screaming to everyone that Dr. Alex Shields is my Omega.

Sure, it’s just for a day. A single date.

But I know that, after today, our relationship will change. Hopefully, it’ll be for the better, as she realizes exactly what she deserves and how I can give it to her. How right we are for one another.

I roll off of her gracefully and hop to my feet. “Then get up! We’re not going to waste a second more of this day. Get dressed, and I’ll meet you here in twenty.”

She freezes for a moment, then sits up slowly, stuttering. “Right now?”

“Right now, Omega. I’m not giving you a chance to change your mind. ”

She laughs, and it’s so carefree that my knees nearly buckle. “I accepted your dare, I wouldn’t back out.”

“Because I’m not giving you the chance! See you soon.”

I’m practically skipping out of the bedroom when I realize six eyes are on me.

“She’s up?” Dexter asks stiffly.

“Yep! And today is my date day. So if you’ll excuse me, I have to go shower.” I attempt to brush past my brother, but he holds a hand out and grabs me by the shoulder.

“She needs to eat.”

I shrug him off. “You think I won’t feed her? I’m going to spoil the fuck out of her.”

Quinton snorts. “How are you going to throw together a date at the last minute?”

“I am nothing if not resourceful!” I spin past Dexter and wrench open the door to Alex’s trailer. Jude is nowhere in sight. Not sure where the big guy is, but I’m glad here’s not here because I’m sure the controlling Alpha would try to stop me.

“Just be careful,” Matteo calls after me. “She’s still sick. And I’ll know if she gets upset.”

“Heard!” I shout over my shoulder as I rush to my trailer.

I take a quick shower, then place an order for delivery as I’m brushing my teeth. I’m not going to let my girl starve. This may be a very last-minute date, and I don’t have the time to plan a day full of grand gestures, but I know in my gut that I don’t need to.

This is going to be the real me, the me she’s going to get every day if she lets me into her heart. Not a day of fanciful promises. Just me and her, her and me, Alpha and Omega.

It’s going to be perfect .

Seventeen minutes later, I’m back in Alex’s trailer, wet blonde hair brushed back behind my ears, wearing a cropped t-shirt and a pair of jeans. I’m burning up, probably from the excitement, even though it’s November.

“Going for casual, then?” My brother scoffs.

“I did tell her this is going to be what every day will be like with me. Which means, when I text you, you’re going to come, yeah? Because a day with me will always include you.”

He wrinkles his nose. “I don’t want to go on your dates. And I certainly don’t want to come in at the end of them when…”

His words trail off, but I get the implication.

“I’m not going to ask you to fuck her with me,” I hiss, hoping she can’t hear me. “I only meant that you’re a big part of my day, and she’s going to be, too. So we need to see how we work as a trio.”

Quinton chuckles and wraps his arm around Matteo’s neck. “We’re not going to have that problem with that, are we, Teo?”

Matteo leans over and kisses Q on the cheek. “Not at all. I’m excited for it.”

Their casual intimacy is so enviable. I want to get there one day with Alex and Jude. For some reason, I think Jude is going to be a tougher nut to crack than my Omega.

All thoughts of Jude and our complicated relationship flee my mind when Alex steps out of the bedroom and into the main living area of the trailer.

She’s got her wavy hair still damp and loose around her face, but she took the time to blow-dry and style her bangs. She’s got on a tight maroon shirt that shows off her soft curves, and a pair of high-waisted black pants.

“Well, aren’t you a vision!” I rush across the room holding my hands out for her. She gently places hers on top. “Are you ready to see what being my Omega is all about?”

Her cheeks pinken, and she ducks her head. “I guess?”

“Ah, sound more excited than that!” Quinton tells her and then blows her a kiss. “He may have never had an Omega before, but I don’t doubt Dario had a little scrapbook filled with his dream bonding ceremony and nest layout.”

It was just the bonding ceremony, but Quinton doesn’t need to know that he was right about any part of that. He’d never let me live it down.

“And with that, we’re out!” I pull her out of the door while weaving our fingers together. “We’re heading to my place, beautiful.”

“Okay, cool, because I didn’t know how to tell you I don’t feel comfortable going out in public.

” She takes a sideways step, a little closer to me, and she probably doesn’t even notice it.

But now our bodies are touching, and her sweet, chocolatey scent is filling my senses, and fuck, I can barely keep my hands off of her.

But somehow, I manage.

I probably deserve a medal for it.

First place to Dario Reynolds for not groping his Omega.

I’m not going to scare her away by being clingy or too forward. No, I need her to see that I am a net positive in her life. Something she doesn’t need to stress over. Easy and breezy.

Even though I feel like a teenager on my first date.

I open my trailer door and step back so she can walk in first. My stomach twists. I’ve never looked at it through the eyes of someone I want to impress before.

The couch is a little saggy, the television small and on an older stand, not mounted on the wall like it is in Jude’s trailer. My appliances have that yellow tone that white appliances often turn as they age, and the carpet is so threadbare that it may as well not be there.

Fuck. I shouldn’t have brought her here. She’s going to think I’m a slob or that I don’t care about my home.

But before I can spiral anymore, she makes a pleasant noise and lunges into my bedroom. I left the door open in my haste to get back to her, and the humidity from the shower is still lingering. My bed is unmade, my laundry basket overflowing.

Alex is not looking at any of that.

She’s snagging the faux fur heated blanket that I sleep with every night from the foot of my bed.

“I love a heated blanket,” she coos, pulling it to her face. “If we’re staying in, can I use it?”

Can she use it?

She can have it.

Smother me with it.

Bury me in it.

Whatever makes her happy. Whatever she needs for me to prove to her that I belong to her and her alone.

“Yeah, absolutely.” Nailed it.

She follows me back into the living area right as a knock rattles the door. Behind it is our handsome showrunner.

“Ran into a delivery guy. Said this was for you.” He peers over my shoulder and sees Alex, and his face lights up, his entire demeanor changing. “Hey, Doc. Good to see you up and moving.”

“Yep, and we’re on a date, so thanks for delivering the food. Time to go!” I take the bag from him and shove him out the door.

Before I close it, he leans close and whispers, “Don’t mess this up, Dario. The tough part of being the first is that you set the tone for the rest of us.”

Oh, goodie, no pressure.

The heavy paper bag is stuffed inside a plastic one is heavy, and I carefully place it on the table before I start to unload the contents.

“What did you order?” Alex asks, leaning over my shoulder. I hear her stomach growl before I even get a chance to tell her. I don’t call attention to it, but I know if I turn around, I’ll see that her face is pink with embarrassment.

“Okay, so, I don’t know what you like to eat besides Chinese food, so I took a guess. How do you feel about tacos?” I open one of the Styrofoam clamshells filled with al pastor and turn it toward her. “Specifically, street tacos?”

One by one, I unload clamshells full of carne asada and shredded chicken, then one with onions and cilantro, and then a foil-wrapped set of corn tortillas. At the bottom is a foil dish with a plastic lid containing sopapillas for a light dessert.

“Looks incredible,” she says as she slides into the chair on the other side of the table. “Did they include some limes?”

“Did they include limes?” I clutch at my chest. “Of course they did! What kind of monster doesn’t use lime on their street tacos?”

I hand her a paper plate and a fork, and we start to build our tacos.

It’s going to be hard to eat while smiling so widely.