“Well, if you come up with any ideas, let me know.”
“I mean, the quickest route is to get one of these guys to bite you. Can’t ship you off if you’re bonded,” she points out.
“That’s the problem. Right now, Axel is the only one I’m interested in.”
“What about Mick?” she asks, and I grimace. Knowing that he and my brother hook up is enough to put me off for life. “Okay, so not Mick. There are a lot of new guys,” she suggests. I keep my brother's secret about Mick even if it makes me feel like a shitty friend to Shelby.
“Bonding with someone can’t be a hasty decision,” I tell her, just as much as I’m telling myself. No matter who I bond with, I need to get it right on the first try. I don’t think I’d survive bonding with someone and them not being the right choice.
Shelby pets my face slightly before responding. “You’re right, it’s the most important decision in your life. I didn’t mean to make a joke about it.”
“You didn’t, Shelby. It’s honestly the quickest way to stay here. But I need a pack that’s perfect for me, not just perfect for this moment.”
“That you do. You deserve the best, you know that?” she says.
“Shelby, you better stop being so sweet or I’ll cry, and then you’ll get pissed at me for ruining your hard work.”
“You’re right. Take your little nap and let me finish,” she says, ending the conversation.
Maybe it’s an Omega thing or my ability to sleep anywhere, but Shelby’s gentle touches and the soothing music lull me into the perfect nap.
I put moreeffort into my appearance than I should, considering this isn’t a date I want to go on. But it’s still a date, and if Kurt thinks I’m actively sabotaging his matchmaking—or whatever the fuck this is supposed to be—there will be hell to pay.
I’m on my phone, and I have about fifty messages on Marielli’s Mass asking me where I’ve been and when I plan on going live again.
Is it wrong that since Axel said he’s interested in me, I feel like I can’t stream anymore? I know I don’t show my face, and it’s all a part of my plan to make money before I settle down, but something about it doesn’t feel right.
I swallow that down. It’s a means to an end. Once I reach my goal, I’ll be able to stop and move on with my life.
It’s not that I have shame when it comes to streaming or showing my body. I just worry about what Axel would think. If he found out, would he change his mind? Would he think I’m not as sweet and desirable anymore?
I’m shaken from my thoughts as Tate walks through the front door. He’s got on a white t-shirt, his cut, and dark denim jeans. His hair looks slightly wet as he pushes it back and sits at the dining room table with me.
His hand rests on the table, his signet ring for the club on one finger and another ring I’m not sure of the meaning rests on another.Why do I want them to touch my face again so badly?I look away from him, and he must notice because he speaks.
“You cancel your little date?” he asks.
Before I can answer, Kurt is walking into the kitchen and speaking for me. “No.” He looks away from Tate and over to me. “You ready to go, hun?”
Tate looks between Kurt and me like Kurt is speaking a foreign language. I suppose Tate didn’t get this fatherly side of Kurt, not that I would know. This is truly the first time I’ve seen them interact, and it doesn’t seem like Kurt even cares Tate is here.
“I thought we were havin’ dinner?” Tate asks Kurt. I can tell he’s trying not to come off as petulant.
“We are. Teresa will be getting started on it soon. I’ve just got to drop off Lily first,” Kurt tells him.
“I can take her,” Tate suggests and Kurt laughs.
“No chance. Let’s go, Lily,” he instructs, and I furrow my brows, wondering if Kurt doesn’t trust Tate around me or if he’s just being an asshole.
Tate gives me an irritated look, but I just give him a weak smile before grabbing my purse and following Kurt to his pickuptruck. Honestly, the amount of vehicles we have as a whole on the compound is insane.
Considering how many bikes are here, it’s depressing how long it's been since I’ve ridden. No one will let me get my license and ride on my own, so I’m stuck hitching a ride with whoever will let me. Which as of late has been no one, not even Kurt or my brother.
Kurt is quiet for most of the ride until we’re parked in front of some fancy Italian restaurant.
“Call me if you want to be picked up,” he tells me.
“Okay. You’ve met them already?” I ask, wondering why he feels so comfortable just dropping me off.
