I drop my hand from hers, the warmth of her hand fading from my skin. Gabrielle glances between us, her lips pursed.
“I may be a little bit of a control freak,” I admit, and her mouth twitches upward. “And this lunch is absolutely on me, since we dragged you out of work like Neanderthals.”
I’m rewarded with a further tilt, until her lips stretch into a smile. “I said yes to lunch.”
“Thank god,” Hudson says, his hands on his chest dramatically. “Nate would have been unbearable.”
“Hey,” Nate complains, poking Hudson in the arm. “You make me sound like a brat.”
“You are a brat,” Axel rumbles, and Hudson starts laughing as Nate complains.
Gabrielle watches them with that small, hesitant smile still playing on her lips. Her posture loosens until she’s toying with a loose piece of hair, winding it around her finger.
After we’ve placed our order, adding several dishes to make up for Gabrielle’s tiny side salad choice, I turn to her, clearing my throat.
“So,” I say. “How are you finding working atIl Piacere?”
This feels like safe ground. Her whole face lights up.
“I’m really enjoying it,” she says shyly. Her fingers trace circles on the table. “The work is soothing.”
“What did you do before?” Nate asks, and she tilts her head.
“I waitressed in some diners.” She shrugs. “I don’t have any qualifications, so there weren’t many choices when I got out of the Compound.”
All of us pause, and Gabrielle looks between us.
“You were in the Omega Compound?” Axel almost growls the words. “How old are you?”
Gabrielle locks up, like a curtain falling over a bright, sunny day. I can see her drawing into herself.
“Twenty,” she whispers. My eyes fly up.
She must’ve perfumed young, to be in the Compound. They closed it down five years ago.
Hudson hesitates. “Is that why you’re not with the Center?”
It’s the wrong question to ask. I can almost see her withdrawing, her skin tinting pale as she leans back in her seat, shrinking away from us.
“I don’t like the Center,” she says quietly.
Our food arrives, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Various plates and sauces are passed around, and Gabrielle picks at her salad.
Hudson gives me a look, but I’m already filling up another plate.
I add some nachos, fajita meat and vegetables, spicy rice and a quesadilla before I place it down in front of her.
“To try,” I tell her softly. “Don’t worry if you don’t like it.”
Her hand creeps out, hovering over the quesadilla. When she glances at me, I nod reassuringly, waiting until she’s taken a small bite and then another before I start my own food.
We eat quietly, each of us casting sneaky glances at the omega nibbling at her plate of food. She eats the quesadilla, and the fajita meat, but leaves the spicy rice after a tester spoonful. I can see Hudson calculating in his head, and quirk my brow at him.
Gabrielle clears her throat, our attention zeroing in on her. Wilfully, I force myself to relax. It can’t be easy being the sole focus of this many alphas at one time.
“Have you known each other for a long time?” she asks softly. Her eyes glance around the table, landing on each of us.
“All our lives,” I respond. “We grew up together.”
