Page 34 of Knot Your Average Beta

I nod. “I do. But one of my best friends is an omega. I can ask her whatever I need to know.” Though Sylvie’s experience is anything but normal. But then… mine isn’t either. Also, things like the internet exist and bookstores with a million books about being an omega.

I’m sure I can figure it out on my own.

After spending so much time with this man in his doctor’s office while growing up, I try to limit the number of visits I make now. As in, I put off my yearly check ups until they’re basically year and a half check ups.

To go in for something like this, unrelated to my illness? Yeah, no thanks, I’ll pass.

I give him a strained smile. Logan notices because he pulls me even closer, like he’s trying to absorb me into his body. We’re basically the same person now. “Well, it was nice to see you, Dr. Schwab.” Lies. “But we’ve got to get going.”

The doctor opens his mouth like he’s going to say something more, protest or try to convince me to make an appointment, but I don’t give him a chance. I lace my fingers through Logan’s and pull him down the street, away from the doctor that spent too many years making me feel sick.

“If you change your mind,” Dr. Schwab calls after me. “You know where to find me.”

I wave over my shoulder without looking back, and resist the urge to flip him the middle finger while I do. That would definitely make Logan have more questions. When we’ve gone a block, I try to untangle my fingers from the alpha who is now keeping pace with me.

He doesn’t let me go.

We’ve gone another block, and the crowd has swallowed up Dr. Schwab. I can feel Logan watching me, can feel his question burning the tip of his tongue. I’m surprised that he hasn’t asked them yet, hasn’t forced me to answer, to tell him. His professional curiosity must be killing him.

“Don’t,” I say, cutting off any attempts to question me at the same time my eye snags on a window display of an omega’s nest. It’s pink and frilly, with cream and purple accents. Fairy lights drape the ceiling and something soft covers every single inch of space, from the velvet cushions lining the walls to the floor level mattress. There’s a shelf of blankets and pillows on one side, just waiting to be included, woven into the existing soft goods.

I’ve never been a pink girl. Never really been a bright colors kind of girl beyond the red lipstick I slather on my lips every morning to make myself feel bold and pretty. That’s Sorrel. She loves everything bright and cheerful and she would probably love this display, even though she’s not an omega.

Yeah, pink and frilly isn’t really my vibe, but something pangs in my chest at the sight of that fake nest. Something awful close to longing. It aches in my little omega heart.

“Do you want to go in?” Logan asks, sounding hesitant and hopeful all at once. “We have a nest at the penthouse. It’s… well, it’s basically empty. But we could buy some things for you to make it your own.”

I twist my head to look up at him. “You have a nest?”

Half his mouth curves into a smile. “Of course we do.”

I don’t return the expression. “You have a nest and yet I spent last night in a closet?”

His half grin falls. I don’t wait for him to give me an excuse. Maddox doesn’t want me. They don’t actually want me. Well, maybe Swift does, but I put a stop to that last night. I mean, he couldn’t even stay until I woke up this morning.

Even though I know it’s a bad idea, I make my way to the entrance of Nests, Heats and Beyond and step inside. Such a bad idea. I’m not going to get a nest, not with the Falcone pack. They don’t want me. My bond with Luca will fade and then we’ll go our separate ways.

But there’s no law that says I can’t buy a bunch of shit and pack it home with me, turn my little loft bedroom into a nest all on my own. It won’t hurt to figure out what I like.

“Sadie,” Logan says, like he’s trying to get my attention, and I don’t know if it’s to do with my illness or the sleeping arrangements last night, but either way, I don’t want to hear it.

The sleeping arrangements… I’m not sure why that bothers me so much when I don’t even want their nest. Not really. I’m not even sure I want them. So having a conversation about it with him seems pointless.

And my illness… Well, that’s not really any of his business, is it?

“You can go,” I say, not turning to look at him, focusing on the display of blankets right at the front of the store, fingers soothing over the fabric.

“Go?”

“Yeah,” I say, trailing my fingers over them as I head to the right and the nest display there, emerald green and gold, deep and dark and moody, much more along the lines of what I’d like. “You don’t need to follow me around while I window shop. I’m sure you have better things to do.”

“Better things than watching my omega pick out things for her nest?” He says, sounding as though it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard.

“Not your omega,” I say, more out of habit than anything. Or denial, more like.

“I’m fine here,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest like he’s settling in for an argument, like he’s expecting it. I look around the store, gaze catching on items here and there that I want to touch, want to examine, want to fucking buy, but I don’t want to do any of that while he’s here. The last thing I want is for him to feel obligated to purchase anything for me, especially since I know this is going to end with them not wanting me.

If I get attached to anything in this store and then I have to leave it with them, I think it might break my newly minted omega heart.

---