“Oh.”

That wasn’t what I had in mind, exactly. Then again, my list wasn’t that detailed. Coco who sent Paul my way probably asked him,Are you into sports?And he said yes.

He wasn’t lying.

Still, that’s alreadynotmy cup of black coffee.

At least, I arranged to meet him someplace where I won’t be coming across any of my non-boyfriends. Hopefully. It’s still not all that far from our neighborhood, so that’s a risk.

The diner is cozy. Ruby recommended it. It’s not romantic at all.

I’m not feeling romantic, either.

Paul is looking at me like I’m a prize horse he’s interested in buying if the price is good. Okay, that’s not a fact, he may just be checking me out, but something about his face and his gaze makes me think of dead fish eyes.

What’s with the weird metaphors, Gigi? Give the man a chance.

He’s a beta, he’s in college, reasonably intelligent. Probably reasonably handsome, too.

I don’t see it.

His face is clean-shaved and not ugly. Not repulsive.

Not interesting, either.

Blue eyes. Blond hair.Ronin’s colors, I think dimly. Yet he’s nothing like Ronin.

Isn’t supposed to be,I remind myself.Ronin isn’t what you’re looking for.

Reminder: not an alpha, not an omega, not a beta pissed off with you and into alphas…

Someone like Paul here. Single, into betas, into girls, into a beta life.

Check on all points.

Someone give Coco a medal. Where did she find him so quickly?

Then again, sometimes I feel like half the city inhabitants are her friends and the other half are passing acquaintances. She has a network like the mafia.

“For the wedding,” he says and I blink, suddenly aware I missed out on what he was saying. Didn’t even realize he’d been talking.

“Thewhat?”

“The wedding.” When I keep blinking like a deer caught in the headlights, he elaborates, “I’m in no hurry to marry.”

“Phew. Okay.” I give him my first real smile of the night. “Me neither. That’s good. I?—”

“But I don’t want to wait too long, either. I want many children.”

“Many? Just how many are we talking here?” I ask nervously, and why are we talking about children when I don’t even know what his profession is?

“Oh, I don’t know. Five?”

“Five!” Oh no, my exclamation marks are back. “So many!”

“You don’t like children?”

“I’m not an omega,” I blurt out, though that’s not entirely fair. Omegas do tend to be in love with the idea of children and babies, and they are geared toward childbearing and rearing, but I know not every omega is like that.