Page 54 of Party Girl: How a Naughty Omega Finds Love
ChapterSeventeen
WHITNEY
About ten minutes after I stormed out onto the porch, Trev comes outside. I’m sitting on one of the steps, and I don’t bother scooting over or looking at him. He’s determined to hate me for whatever reason, and I’m still too sleepy to pretend to be nice.
“You can stay.”
“No.” My face hurts from where Curtis and Shelly hit me, but I’ve taken worse hits.
He makes a noise. “No? Why not?”
“For some reason, I thought alphas were smarter.” I sip on my coffee. “I’m not staying where I’m not wanted.” Standing, I turn to face him, meeting his guarded honey eyes. He’s wearing sweats and a white tee that stretches tight across his muscled chest.
“They want you to stay,” he says.
“And you?” I walk up the steps until I’m a few inches from him. “You don’t like me.”
“That’s not true.” He doesn’t offer an explanation.
“I’m not convinced. You look at me like I’m going to hurt your pack.”
He shrugs. “You could.”
Holding his gaze, I frown. “I won’t.” The rest of his pack has been nothing but nice, if not a little overbearing. I don’t know why he’s so worried.
“Do you really want to face Camila today?” he asks, changing the subject.
“No,” I say, looking away. “But I don’t want to be a problem.” I don’t want to accept the offer to stay, but I’d do almost anything to avoid the bitch.
Past experiences are screaming that this act is to get me comfortable. Then, once they have me where they want me, the claws will come out. They always do.
“Then don’t be,” he says, opening the door so we can go inside. “If you want to leave, I’ll take you to Camila.”
This is an opportunity I can’t afford to miss. Whatever bad comes from it, I’ll survive. If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that I can survive.
Aside from pinning me down and taking me against my will, there’s nothing these alphas can do to truly surprise me. Beatings I can take. Cruel words I can swallow.
“I’ll stay,” I say, following him into the house. “But I’m sleeping on the couch.”
Asher snickers. “Good luck with that.”
I narrow my eyes, ignoring how adorable he looks with sleep-rumpled black hair. “I’m serious.”
“I know.” He smiles. “But you don’t know Hayden.”
I carry my mug to the coffee pot, which has a fresh batch of brew in it, and ignore the pull Asher has. He makes me want to find trouble. He makes me want to talk back. He makes me want to smirk. That’s the problem though, isn’t it? He makes me feel.
* * *
Everyone but Avi leaves for work. He settles onto the couch and turns on the TV as soon as the door shuts, navigating to a streaming app. I stay, leaning against the counter, nursing my coffee. Bob Ross’ face shows up a few seconds later, ready to walk people through painting a valley spread out at the bottom of a mountain.
“Are you going to stand there and pretend not to watch, or are you going to sit down and relax?” Avi brushes his black hair off his forehead but doesn’t move his attention from the screen.
I sit at the far end of the couch and tuck my feet beneath me, focusing on Bob. Avi’s lemon and eucalyptus scent fills the space between us.
“Grab a bit of Van Dyke brown and just tap, tap, up like that,” he says, somehow making a tree trunk with a knife-looking tool.
“It’s always Van Dyke brown,” Avi observes.
