“No, Kelsey…what is that supposed to mean?” He takes off his baseball cap and rakes his hand through his brown hair. This is the first time I have seen him without his hat. His hair is long enough to tuck behind his ears. It looks silky and smooth. “You can’t go see her, Kelsey. Look what happened last time…you told me to take this job, that you would be fine. I only have patience for one annoying Omega at a time. I can’t work if I’m worried about you hurting yourself all the time.”
There’s a long silence.
“I have my hands full with an Omega who can’t fucking take care of herself. It’s exhausting, Kelsey. If I find out that you aren’t doing what Doctor Oliver is suggesting, I’ll come fucking home. Take better care of yourself.”
I blanch at his words and start walking back toward my room.What an entitled Alpha thing to say. Whoever this Kelsey person is must have the patience of a saint. I thought Smith was kind after what happened last night, but it’s clear he’s the asshole I originally thought he was. Typical Alpha-asshole behavior.
An annoying Omega. An Omega who can’t take care of herself.
Like I have any control over my heats or like having my body controlled by these cycles. I don’t hate being an Omega, but there are so many times I wished I could live a normal Beta life.
I’m just about to close the door when I hear the end of his conversation. “I can’t lose you, Kelsey. Promise me you won’t go see Meera.” There’s a long pause, and he sighs. “Thank you, love you.”
Counting to thirty, I wait before I leave the room and walk back into the kitchen. “Good Morning,” I say to him.
He nods his head but doesn’t return the greeting.
“Thank you for bringing me in last night.”
“It’s my job,” he says nonchalantly as he continues typing on his phone. I open the fridge and take out the roasted chicken salad I ordered last night.
“So, are we delayed for Seattle?”
“No, Franklin is going to drive us. Take the time you need,” he says, while not even looking at me. How does a man remove your fake eyelashes one moment and then talk about you like you’re an invalid the next?
“Okay, I’ll be ready to leave in about an hour.”
“I’ll let Franklin know,” he says while walking back to his room.
The drive to Seattle is quiet. I do my best not to be an‘annoying Omega.’I seethe in my seat when I think about it. What a pompous asshole. Having my designation oversimplified by a few traits pisses me off. I’m more than the profession I chose or the designation I was born with.
I can take care of myself, I’m still fucking alive, aren’t I? Just because I don’t have one Alpha peeling grapes for me and another rubbing my feet doesn’t mean I don’t take care of myself. I got myself this far in life and in my career on my own. How dare he oversimplify who I am as a person after only knowing me a few days. I’m so sick and tired of people assuming they know me. They don’t. No one truly does.
Anytime I do anything, the media spins it around like I’m some frail, incapable person because my body is sometimes governed by my needy hormones. It’s only gotten worse since the photos leaked. It’s like they have permanently branded me as some sort of sex-crazed, one-track-minded individual.
Do my songs mention sex? They absolutely do. But there are many of my other songs that go deeper into my life. It just so happens that those aren’t the ones that get radio plays or sell concert tickets. At least, that’s what Garth likes to tell me.
“You’re quiet,” Smith says while reading a magazine.
“Don’t have much to say,” I reply, and he arches a dark eyebrow at me.
“You okay from last night?” he asks and a deep part of me wants to tell him he doesn’t care, so why is he even bothering to ask?
“Just tired, Garth said it won’t happen again.”
“If you want me to talk to him, I can,” he says and I glare at him.
“I’m a grown woman. I don’t need an Alpha to fight my battles. If I have a problem with my agent, I will handle it.”
“Noted,” he replies and continues reading his magazine.Smith is kind of a dick.
I have seen no other emotions from this man besides indifference and irritation. Maybe I should call the security company and see if they have someone that would be a better fit.
We spend the rest of the drive in silence, as well as most of this stop in the tour. I stick to not asking Smith any personal questions, and he just does his broody bodyguard act. There are no after-show surprises and everything goes smoothly. I force myself to stay awake after the show so that he doesn’t have to take care of me in any capacity.
I’ve considered calling his boss, but beyond his unlikeable personality, Smith actually does a good job. He has done well with coordinating onsite security teams and there hasn’t been a moment where I have felt unsafe this whole trip. I couldn’t say the same when Kenny was overseeing my safety. So even if we aren’t going to become BFFs anytime soon, at least I know he’s decent at his job.
We’re flying to Denver tonight. Thankfully, I added on some additional days to this show to give me a break before we make our way to the East Coast. The East Coast stretch is intense, and it’s going to be brutal on my body.
