Page 13 of Wild Omega

I trace the rim of my glass with one finger. “An omega’s guaranteed to turn your life upside-down. I think that’s the point.”

His brows jump. “Then I definitely don’t have time for one. Judges forbid she comes with a pack of morons.”

I hum in agreement, humoring him. But what if an omega is waiting for his scent to come in? What if she needs help, or worse, settles for another pack? I can’t bring myself to ask out loud. Because if and when he gets an omega, I might lose my best friend.

“Stop worrying. You’re the one who’ll get wrinkles.” He knocks one knuckle on the table, breaking my train of thought. “So, what’s new in the film world?”

I lace my fingers together and spill all the interesting things I can think of about the actors I work around, the fun sets, and the designer gear I get to handle. No need to mention hours and hours of boring retakes, grueling shifts making sure Lyra’s where she needs to be on time and hefting heavy bags with pounds of makeup and spare shoes while dodging wandering hands.

No one needs to know about those things. My rare hour with Callisto should be spent talking about fun things.

“I’m so glad you were still up this late,” Callisto says as the closing staff kick us out and we shrug into our jackets street-side.

“Sure,” I murmur, signaling a waiting cab. “Good luck with your case.”

“See you next time, Ricky.” Callisto opens the car door for me, brushing my arm with a casual touch.

He means nothing by it, but it still gives me a hard-on. I want Callisto Wren, my best friend, so badly it hurts every time I’m around him. He has no idea, yet I’ll come running any time he calls to savor his laugh, the casual touches, and the occasional hug.

I slide into the cab to conceal my springing shaft, and he shuts the door. He leans down so our eyes meet through the glass, and smiles. Oblivious. The driver asks for my address, breaking my focus, and the man I love steps back from the curb.

The cab pulls away into the night-wreathed streets, tearing Callisto from view.

Chapter five

Rickon

I smother a yawn as I trudge up my outside stairs, mentally calculating the hours until my morning alarm goes off. Lyra’s dress needs to be picked up from alterations at the costume department on my way, in preparation for the final gala scene. That’s how it goes in the movies: the alphas find their omegas, overcome some challenges, declare undying love, and then sweep off into a life of glitter.

People like me wait in the shadows and sweep up the confetti after they move on.

The stairs to my second-floor apartment feel narrower than ever as I clump my way up, planning my schedule. My belly cramps, warning me of the price to pay for drinking beer.

A shadowy heap moves in front of my door. “Looks like someone’s had a good night out.”

“Fuck!” I press a hand against my beating chest and fall against the wall as adrenaline dumps into my bloodstream. “Hudson?’ I hiss. “What are you doing here?”

My kind-of boyfriend drags himself to his feet. “Well, you’d know if you checked your phone. Even better, if you hadn’t changed your fucking lock code, I’d be in on a comfy sofa instead of freezing my ass off on your doorstep.”

I swallow around a sharp lump in my throat. It’s late at night and I’ve had three beers; I really don’t want to do this now. “It’s not a good time, Hudson,” I murmur sluggishly, trying to fit into the tiny square landing without touching him.

He thrusts his arm against the wall beside me, trapping me there. “Not a good time to hang with your boyfriend? That’s just cruel, precious.” His cold finger stings against my flushed face as he traces the edge of my jaw. “I missed you. I want in.”

A glance at my phone reveals exactly what kind of in he’s looking for; his first text message contains nothing but a peach and eggplant emoji. It’s followed by a bunch more demanding to know where I am and what the lock code is.

“Sorry, Hudson, but you’ve wasted your time. I’ve got work in a few hours and I need to be able to walk.” Not to mention getting enough sleep to think straight.

His blue eyes narrow. “Oh, so you can have a good time with your friends, but not me? Is that really fair?”

I fling my palm up in frustration. “This just isn’t a good time.” Not with Callisto’s scent still lingering in my nose and my heart feeling bruised.

Hudson leans in, all six-foot-two of him dwarfing me. “Precious, a relationship has to have give and take. You’re happy to take my money and company, but when I have needs you’re not interested? I’m disappointed.”

It’s not so much his words, but the scent pouring off him that teases the faintest whimper from me. One corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk. “Let me check real quick.”

“Don’t—”

I’m too slow, because he clamps his hand around my crotch, catching my Callisto-inspired stiffy. Hudson scoffs. “Oh, so you want it, but you’re playing hard to get? I can work with that.” He drops his lips to my neck. “You want this man to beg you, precious? Hm? Let me in, alpha. I neeeeeeed you.”

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