Page 9 of Omega Tricked
“What are you two leaning towards?” Tucker asked, his eyes bright. “I’m open to any cuisine.”
Dylan flicked his wary gaze to mine. “I don’t really care,” he mumbled.
“You sure?” I nudged. “You must have some preference.”
I pulled his brows together. “I guess if I had to choose one… I’d probably pick Mexican.”
“That’s fine by me,” Tucker said. “How about you, Lex?”
“Whatever you guys want.” I spoke softly, watching Dylan. I wanted him to look at me. It was hard to charm someone who never met your eyes.
“Then when the Mexican recipe book comes around, we’ll pick a dish.” Tucker stood.
Dylan turned his back on me again, and I stuffed down my irritation. I didn’t know what his beef was with alphas, but it was deeply ingrained. I’d been nothing but nice to him since we met, and yet, he didn’t trust me. It was obvious.
“Hey, I was thinking, the three of us should grab a drink after class tonight.” Tucker had his hand on his hips, and his gaze was direct. He was a confident, warm omega, and it was hard not to like him. He’d been patient with the two of us from day one. I admired his air of serenity. “Would you guys want to do that?”
“Absolutely.” I had no reason to rush back to the hotel, and spending more time around Dylan was a great opportunity. Having Tucker along too might be the best way to get Dylan to open up about life at the compound. Dylan wasn’t exactly relaxed with Tucker, but he was more so than with me.
Dylan’s shoulders tensed and his jaw clenched. “I can’t.”
Tucker frowned. “Really?”
Dylan kept his gaze down. “I have to get back to the compound right after the class.”
“Youhaveto get back? Or you want to get back?” Tucker narrowed his eyes.
“I have to.”
I didn’t know Dylan at all, but I was still fairly certain he was lying. “What’s the rush?” I asked, trying to keep my expression pleasant.
He slid his sky-blue eyes in my direction and shrugged. “I just have to get back.”
“That’s too bad. I’d have liked to spend some time with you out of class.” I watched Dylan as I spoke, observing that he looked skeptical.
“Not sure why,” he said softly.
“What do you mean? You seem like an interesting guy.”
He looked at me as if he thought I was mocking him, which seemed odd. But then the recipe books arrived at our desk, and the conversation switched over to that instead. It was frustrating that Tucker had handed me the perfect opportunity to talk more with Dylan, but he’d shot the idea down. It wasn’t like we could force Dylan. If he had no interest in socializing with us, that was that.
We picked the recipe we wanted to cook, enchilada suiza, and Tucker gathered all the ingredients from the pantry. We were halfway through preparing the dish when Tucker got a phone call.
He answered, and then he grimaced. “Shit. Really?” He spoke on the phone a few more moments, then hung up and pulled off his apron.
I paused grating cheese. “Everything okay?”
He winced. “That was my roommate. I’m afraid I have to go. A water pipe busted in the ceiling of my apartment and it’s flooding everything.”
“Oh, crap.” Dylan widened his eyes.
“Damn,” I said.
Tucker met my gaze. “I’m sorry. We’ll have to grab that drink another time.”
“Of course.” I smiled. “No problem.”
Tucker patted Dylan’s back distractedly, and then he took off toward the teacher, no doubt to explain why he had to leave early.
