Page 3 of Their Knotty Pack
It doesn't look like this omega worked out for them, but they…they were trying to get another omega. How can I ever forgive them for that?
I can't.
Miles – Ten Minutes Earlier
This was a mistake.
Why did I refuse the OMS standard bodyguard? Like it was some threat to my masculinity?
I shouldn't have come here, and especially not without backup. These alphas don'tseemdangerous but…I'm just one guy.
There's a faint waft of raspberry and hibiscus surrounding them, but I can tell it's not any of their signatures. Not a female alpha in sight, either. I was probably so desperate I got turned on by shampoo or something. They aren'tbadsmelling, per say, but their slightly woodsy scents are doing exactly zero things for my libido. Plus their personalities are…abrasive.
"So, Miles, what do you do in your spare time?" Grayson asks me, his whole body turned in my direction.
Best to just get through this dinner and then I can safely tell the OMS it didn't work out. "To be honest, I don't have much free time." I let out a nervous laugh. "I'm a high school physics teacher, so whenever I'm not working or grading papers, I'm…" my skin lights up with awareness of eyes on me, and it's not from any of the alphas sitting at the table.
My eyes dart behind the pack surrounding me, and catch on the most brilliant pale blue eyes I've ever seen, peeking at me from over the half-wall separating the bar from the rest of the restaurant. Time stops as I take in her widened eyes, flushed cheeks and plush, slightly parted lips. Soft waves of black hair frame her delicate face, her pert nose and high cheekbones, and pale eyes immediately remind me of an illustration of a water nymph I came across in one of my D&D manuals.
I only have a split second to memorize her features before her eyes meet mine, her mouth snapping shut. She drops from view immediately, and I can't even take a second to think about the reaction I just had to a woman who is obviously another omega.
The guys are looking at me expectantly, and I realize I've just trailed off in the middle of my sentence. "Um," I clear my throat as Preston glances curiously behind him, "I used to play a lot of D&D when I was in high school, and have been meaning to find a group of people to play with since I moved out here for college."
I don't miss the slight wrinkle in their noses as they take in my words.
"D&D?" Tucker asks, his brows furrowed. "Is that like one of those phone games Bethany is always playing?"
Chris elbows him sharply in the ribs. "Who's Bethany?" I ask, wondering why the name sends a tendril of warmth through me.
"His sister," Grayson says quickly, shooting them all a look. "You know, times sure have changed. How old are you? We used to give thenerdsa hard time for playing those games."
Nerds. Like it's a derogatory term or something.
It makes sense though. Theyarea pack of lawyers.
"Twenty-seven," I tell him, "we weren't the most popular but the stigma surrounding being a 'nerd' has all but gone extinct. I starteda club at my school, and I'm the e-sports coach. We have other students show up to cheer them on for games and everything."
Chris snorts, and I don't try to hide my scowl at his derisive tone. "E-sports. That's—"
"Admirable that you're taking time out of your busy schedule to help mold the young minds of our future," Grayson cuts him off. "Listen," he inches closer to me so our knees are touching, and he reaches to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "Fuck, you smell good. Like dark chocolate covered blueberries….listen. I think it's safe to say that we all think you're great. What do you say we get out of here? We'll have to make a call, but…" Before I realize what's happening, he's leaning in, his eyes intent on my mouth, his hand gripping my knee.
Fuck, no.
I shoot up from my seat, nearly making the chair topple over. "I don't think that's a good idea." Out of the corner of my eye, I see a small figure rushing from the bar, heading for the front doors.
"Miles, people are staring—" Grayson stands as he tries to stop me from leaving, but I shrug off his arm.
"Don't fucking touch me," I snarl, turning my back and sprinting out of the restaurant, ignoring the way they call after me.
Fuck the people staring.
Fuck this pack for thinking I would just roll over and go along with whatever they said.
Fuck me for thinking I could make this work.
I hand my ticket to the valet, just in time to see a head of black hair disappear into a car and peel out of the parking lot.
Fuck.
