Josephine rolls her eyes, but her cheeks flush with pleasure. “That’s what they keep saying.”
“Who, your mates?” I grin at her. “We’re all just hoping if we repeat it enough, the words will eventually filter through your hormone-addled brain.”
“Hey!” She throws a balled-up sock at me, which I dodge easily. “I’m not hormone-addled. I’m growing a human. It’s hard work.”
“Uh-huh.” I check my watch and feel a fresh surge of panic. “Seriously though, Jo, I can’t find anything in this chaos. I need my thermal pants, and the Uber will be here in twenty minutes.”
“I know, I know.” She sighs, sliding off the desk. “I’m sorry about leaving so much stuff here after moving out. It just gives me an excuse to get some breathing room from my overly attentive mates every once in a while.” She glances around the cluttered living room visible through my open door, her knickknacks still displayed on every available surface. “They think I’m packing boxes right now.”
I follow her gaze, taking in the chaos of our shared apartment—somehow more full of her belongings than it was before she technically moved out. A rueful chuckle escapes me. “Just so you know, I am not going to stand in the way when they eventually come looking for you.”
“They really are a lot, aren’t they?” Josephine sighs dramatically, but the dreamy look in her eyes tells me exactly how she feels about her pack’s obsessive attention. Three alphas, all devoted to her happiness and well-being. It’s the kind of fairy tale most omegas only dream about.
For a moment, I allow myself to wonder what that might be like—to be claimed, protected, cherished by alphas who accept me for exactly what I am and only want more.
I push the thought away almost as quickly as it forms. A few discreet knot-shaped sex toys and the occasional indulgence in poorly acted and designation-normative pornography when the urges get to be too much is all I can allow myself. My entire future depends on it.
“It’s literally impossible you forgot anything considering how much you packed.” She moves to help me close the stubborn suitcase, adding her weight to mine until the zipper finally surrenders. “There! Victory is ours.”
I check my watch again and feel my stomach drop. “The Uber will be here soon, and I still need to?—“
“Go brush your teeth and put on real clothes,” Josephine interrupts, shooing me toward the bathroom. “I’ll put your luggage by the door.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” I call over my shoulder, already stripping off my pajama top.
Ten minutes later, I emerge from the bathroom dressed in comfortable travel clothes, my hair pulled back in a neat ponytail, teeth brushed and face washed. Josephine stands by the door with my carry-on and purse, scrolling through her phone.
“Your Uber is two minutes away,” she informs me without looking up. “And Trinity says to kick ass and take names.”
“Tell her thanks,” I say, doing a final sweep of my bedroom to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything essential. “And remind her I’m still waiting for those post-renovation pictures of her pack’s new place.”
Josephine’s sister, Trinity, is just another reminder that I’m choosing a life of lonely nights and persistent sexual frustration. Trinity might be the least traditional omega I’ve ever met, and she still managed to be swept away by the pack of her dreams—while at Josie’s wedding of all places.
But I am choosing this life. I am.
“Will do.” Josephine puts her phone away and gives me a critical once-over. “You look good. Professional. Like someone who’s about to make all the small-town doctors wonder how they ever managed without you.”
“That’s the goal.” I try to sound confident, but anxiety churns in my stomach. This rotation is crucial for my wilderness medicine certification—the last piece I need to secure a position in emergency medicine that will take me to remote locations where no one will question my designation or my abilities.
A notification chimes on my phone. “Uber’s here.”
Josephine watches me wrestle my suitcases down the three flights of stairs to the street, because I refuse to let her risk the baby over my over-packing. A tired-looking driver waits beside a sedan that seems too small for all my luggage.
But I still survey the bags, mentally cataloguing their contents. I have to be forgetting something.
“You packed half the apartment, Holly. Whatever else you might need, you can buy once you get there,” Josephine says as we somehow cram everything into the trunk and back seat. “You’re going to a mountain town, not the wilderness itself.”
“Says the woman who packed fourteen different pairs of heels for a weekend trip to the Hamptons,” I tease, turning to face her for our goodbye.
Josephine pulls me into a tight hug, her baby bump pressing against my stomach. “Be careful out there, Holly. And call me. Not just texts—actual calls where I can hear your voice and make sure you’re not working yourself to death. I would say that you need to find a nice beta to spend those winter nights with, but I won’t waste my breath.”
It’s always seemed easier to let her believe that I have no interest in dating at all
“I will,” I promise, hugging her back just as fiercely. “Take care of yourself and that little bean.”
“I’ve got three alphas making sure I do nothing but eat unprocessed food and take prenatal vitamins,” she reminds me with a roll of her eyes. “I’ll be fine.”
We hold each other for another moment before reluctantly letting go. I slide into the back seat of the Uber, waving as we pull away from the curb. Josephine stands on the sidewalk, one hand resting on her belly, the other raised in farewell. She looks so happy, so complete. So omega.
