I never used to believe in those other designations, the ones that were eventually deemed redundant. I’m pretty sure I get treated more like an Alpha because I know how to behave like one, and I think that’s really all it takes, but Harper’s smarter than I am.
He made me realize not all Betas are capable of Alpha behavior.
Guys like me have Alpha DNA in their bloodline.
So, the creepy staring guy minds his own business, and we get to eat our dinner in relative quiet, out in the open on a nice early spring afternoon.
It’s kind of hard to hear birds chirping out here, with all the traffic going by, but it feels good to be outside, the sun warming my skin while I eat.
Harper is quiet, but he gradually becomes more and more fidgety and anxious, and I know it’s time to go home when he starts crumbling up the remaining bits of crispy fries in his fingers and building a mound of salty dust on his napkin.
I’d run out of ideas to keep him busy, and our drive home was going to mean crawling along in rush-hour traffic. The thought automatically made me cringe. I wanted to waste time, sure, but I’d rather be doing almost anything other than sitting in the car.
Too bad for me, I guess.
We got home around a quarter to seven, to a quiet apartment.
Our Alphas were already gone, like I expected they would be.
Driving to Silver City’s centre can take an hour at off-peak times using the shortest route, and maybe a half hour more when it’s busy, but Cressidan City is more like a three-hour drive in the opposite direction. It’s not a quick trip, and we’ll be lucky if they’re back before midnight.
Despite knowing this, Harper won’t sit still once we’re home.
It’s going to be a long night.
I can only hope that Falcon comes back feeling better than he did when he left.
That’s why Harper is so damn anxious. Falcon hasn’t been himself since the morning after that night he spent with the Alpha Alliance, rescuing girls from creepy assholes.
“I need another snack,” he insists, getting up from the couch for probably the fifteenth time since we put on the movie.
It’s not even thirty minutes in. I don’t bother to hit pause.
Neither of us are really paying attention to the TV.
I lean back in my seat on the corner of the couch, staring blankly at the mindless action sequence that’s happening on the screen.
Harper takes his time in the kitchen.
Eventually, I realize he’s taking a little too long.
Getting up, I stifle a yawn before I head for the kitchen.
The apartment is pretty small for the four of us, so it only takes a half dozen steps to get to the doorway and discover what’s holding my Omega mate up.
“Hey, what’s …” I start, trailing off when I see the mess on the floor.
There’s a puddle and a few splashes of something pink, and Harper is just getting up from behind the table with an open tub of strawberry ice-cream in his hands.
He flashes me a sheepish smile as he explains, “I didn’t give it enough time to melt before I tried to scoop it, and it turns out I wasn’t holding the tub very tightly.”
“Do you still want ice-cream?”
He looks at the tub in his hands and lets out a sigh.
“Not really. It’s just all this waiting around. It’s making me insane. Can’t we drive out there, wait for them outside the academy, or something?”
He puts the tub in the sink and makes a disgusted noise when he looks down at his shirt.
