"Shut up," she mutters, but I can hear the smile in her voice despite her embarrassment.
The landscape continues rolling past—more fields now giving way to scattered houses and businesses as we approach Millbrook's outer edges. A gas station appears on the right, then a tractor supply store with farm equipment displayed in the parking lot. Signs of civilization returning after miles of empty countryside.
"The small town is approaching," I inform her, nodding toward the buildings visible ahead. "Better get into character for your content. First impression matters."
She takes a deep breath, composing herself.
The blush slowly fades from her cheeks, though there's still a pink tinge that suggests she's not entirely over my comment about the bed. Her expression shifts from flustered to excited—that bubbly, enthusiastic energy that drew Grayson to her in the bookstore.
That genuine happiness that makes people want to watch her content.
She pulls down the sun visor to check her reflection in the small mirror. Fluffs her hair. Adjusts her sweater. Pinches hercheeks to bring some color to them—which is unnecessary given she just finished blushing, but she does it anyway.
"How do I look?" she asks, glancing at me.
"Beautiful," I answer honestly. "Like always."
She smiles—soft and genuine.
"You're surprisingly sweet when you're not being all grumpy lawyer Alpha."
"Don't tell anyone. It'll ruin my reputation."
"Your secret's safe with me." She winks, then holds up her phone.
I can see her opening Instagram, navigating to the live stream function. Her thumb hovers over the button that will broadcast us to however many followers she has. She looks nervous again—that flash of insecurity crossing her features.
She's worried about what people will think. About whether she looks good enough, sounds interesting enough, has the right content. All those doubts her ex-pack planted in her head trying to surface.
"Hey," I say, catching her attention. "You've got this. Just be yourself. That's what people want to see."
She nods, taking another breath.
Squares her shoulders. Puts on that bright smile.
Then she angles the phone to capture both of us in the frame—her in the passenger seat with the window behind her showing the passing town, me in the driver's seat with one hand on the wheel. The composition looks good even from my peripheral vision. Professional.
Like we know what we're doing.
She grins at the camera, and I can see the exact moment she transforms into Reverie the influencer instead of just Reverie the nervous Omega. Her whole demeanor changes—more confident, more animated, ready to entertain and engage with whoever's watching.
"Here we go!"
CHAPTER 23
Live & Moose
~REVERIE~
Itap the red button,and my screen shifts from preview mode to live broadcast.
That familiar thrill shoots through me—the one I get every time I go live. It's different from posting pre-recorded content. This is raw, unedited, happening in real-time. No second chances.No delete and retry.Whatever happens next is permanent.
My face fills the frame—wind-tousled hair from the open window creating this effortlessly messy look that would take most influencers thirty minutes and three different products to achieve. My cheeks are flushed pink from the cold December air streaming through the truck, making me look healthy and alive rather than washed out. Eyes bright with nervous excitement and genuine happiness.
The viewer count starts at seven. My most loyal followers who have notifications turned on and drop everything when I go live.
Then it jumps to twenty-three.
