Page 12 of Wild Omega

I scuff my feet so he knows I’m behind him, and then drop my hand on his shoulder. Taut, firm, not so big as to be bulky. Everything about Callisto Wren is smooth. “Waiting for someone?”

He turns and beams, his smile melting my heart into a pool of mush. “Hey, buddy!” That high-voltage grin is rare on a man who’s trained himself to be reserved in his expressions.

He glides out of his seat and hugs me, smelling of cherry wood. Even his alpha musk is smooth and expensive. Callisto trims his image like he does his beard to exude the air of a professional in his field, so I’m the only one who gets to see the raw version hidden under the layers. Like the tattoo on his shoulder he always keeps covered up so his work colleagues don’t catch sight of it. It was a trashy teenage angst mistake he got turned into a beautiful clock after his dad passed away. Funny how the concept of time was important enough to mark on his body permanently, and yet Callisto never seems to have any available.

The bartender pops a foamy glass of beer on the countertop without asking, meaning Cal’s already paid for it. Looks like he forgot about my gluten avoidance.

“Are we celebrating something?” I ask as Callisto collects both glasses and leads me to a booth.

He smirks. “Yeah, almost had a case thrown out today, but I recalled the witness and he damned himself. Gave my client a fantastic payout.”

I whistle softly. “Close call with your win streak, though.”

He scrubs a hand over his face roughly before saying, “I was ready to shit myself, Ricky.”

I hide my pleasure from the old pet name by taking a sip. The cold beer flushes out the last of the lingering sleepiness from taking an evening nap. “I doubt that, Callisto Wren, lawyer extraordinaire.”

He chuckles. “We pulled through. What’s going on with you? Still slaving to that drama queen?”

“Yeah. Oh, that reminds me.” I dig into my bag and pull out the extra meal I ordered for him. “Have you eaten? It’s pseudo-satay but tastes pretty good.”

Callisto’s dark eyes brighten. “You’re a champion! Didn’t even realize I was hungry.” He shakes his head as he digs the plastic fork into the foil tray. “How is it you know me better than myself?”

I lean my chin on my hand, smiling. Because I’m watching like a hawk, oblivious fool. Every shift of bone and muscle in his wrist, the cherry wood scent hidden under the alcohol atmosphere, the shiver of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. Everything.

So, why haven’t I manned up and told him, in the twenty years we’ve been friends? Because Callisto isn’t into men. He’s never once taken a second look at a being in possession of a dick. Not even Laversham’s famous male omega, Leighton Kilroy, whom we crossed paths with last year.

I suck in my cheeks. No use crying over spilled milk. The best I can hope for is that one of us finds an omega, creating an excuse to invite the other into a pack. Then at least I could enjoy him from a distance, or within the same bed during heats. I silence the jitters I get inside wondering what happens if he forms a pack and doesn’t invite me to join.

Callisto hums under his breath while he finishes chewing. “Oh, I nearly forgot. Mom called today, and she said to say hello.”

I relax and lean forward to hear over the conversation of the bar staff as they move closer, cleaning. At least we have one safe topic. “How is she?”

He shrugs. “Not sure. Seems her anxiety is playing up again.” Callisto puffs out his lips with a frustrated sigh. “I can’t fathom how she spends that much money on therapy but still isn’t functioning.”

I take another sip, thinking through my words while savoring the craft beer on my tongue. Nice in the mouth, but agony on the belly. “She’s doing better than she was a few years ago, after your dad passed.” I don’t want to point out Callisto’s flaws, but he’s not very understanding of mental health issues. “She had a lot of panic attacks back then. Now she’s having them on her terms.”

He tilts his head, considering. “I suppose you’re right. I’d forgotten about that.” He leans forward and ruffles my hair, spoiling my careful side sweep. “This is why she likes you better than me.”

My chuckle echoes in the small booth. “And because I send her flowers on her birthday. Hint, hint.”

“Oh, darn.” His eyes dart as he tracks a mental calendar. “Next week?”

“Mm-hmm. Weekend.” I hold his gaze. “Try going home for once. Working sixteen hours a day will give you wrinkles.”

He can’t answer me with his mouth full of fake satay and rice, so he settles for pointing the fork at me, a silent warning not to nag.

I hold my hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’m allowed one dig at your lifestyle per meetup.”

He laughs around his mouthful, accidentally losing some rice down his shirt. I live for that laugh. Pathetic, but I’m in no hurry to let go of my first and only crush. It’s secret and treasured, and one of the few things in my life that’s all mine.

Callisto fishes out the rice and grunts. “Only one. Mom fills the rest of the quota. She’s begging me to register my scent with the Omega Center.”

I shrug one shoulder. “That’s pretty standard for an alpha, Calli, and every mother wants their child to find love. More so in her case.” Callisto’s father dedicated himself to work but died just before he was due to retire.

Callisto scoffs. “An omega would turn my life upside down. When would I have time to take one shopping or on dinner dates? At midnight?” He shakes his head and washes rice down with more beer. “You’re the only person who’ll meet me this time of night.”

I share Mrs Wren’s concerns her son’s headed down the same path as her workaholic husband. But no one can budge his one-directional focus, not even me.

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