“I look forward to getting to know you, Chad.”
He shrugs. “Find me inside.” He gives us all a small wave, never asking our names or seeming to care at all who we are.
“Where did they find that one? A hoity-toity school for omegas?” Miles cracks under his breath, loud enough for Elliott and I to hear but not loud enough for the cameras to pick up.
“I like that one,” I say.
“Of course you do,” Elliott says, leaning forward to catchmy eye. He sees right through my plan, and I grin back at him. That’s okay. It isn’t a secret to them that I didn’t want to come. If Miles hadn’t voted to repair the reputation that I had destroyed, we wouldn’t be here at all. Because regardless of what the tabloids say, I do want to keep my pack. Losing them would destroy me.
The parade of omegas feels like forever. I shift on my aching feet as the last limo arrives. A dark-haired beauty with hair hanging down to her ass climbs out of the interior, and her eyes lock on us as soon as she straightens. My heart plummets into my fucking ass. Hailey Gray, the omega it took me years to shake, the one I had been willing to bite, and the one responsible for my playboy ways, is here in front of us.
“What the fuck?” I swear, looking at the camera crew. The director shakes his head, seeing the urge for me tonope the fuck out of hereright now.
“Oh shit.” Elliott wipes his hand down his face. He knows what this means for me; they both do.
Miles inhales noisily before looking at me sharply. “We don’t give her the bracelet, Rafe. She goes home tomorrow.”
Is this some fucked up way to make me stay? Because it’s a miscalculation with this one. All I want to do is shed the damn tie and suit jacket and go dance in some club. Preferably one where I can just be me and not the star in the spotlight. Anonymity is what I crave and can never truly have. Someone’s always watching. There is no place I can just be me.
“Boys,” Hailey greets us, her silky voice taking me back to nights in random hotel rooms and secrets beneath the sheets as we both tried to find our way in Hollywood. Secrets she sold to the paparazzi the second I had a big break. She tried to tear me and my pack mates apart with them. As if a wedge between us would make me ever pick her. We recovered from it and moved on. Well, I thought I moved on.
I swallow around the frog that somehow lodged itself in my throat.
Elliott tilts his head at her as if he’s examining a bug he accidentally stepped on. “The makeup department really worked hard on you, didn’t they?”
She gasps and takes a step back. Not the welcome she’s expecting, I guess. I shove my hands into my pockets, so I don’t do something stupid like reach for her. Man, I am fucked up. Yes, let's go back for seconds to the girl who sold your secrets to the media and almost blew up your whole life.
“Cut,” Thomas, the director, shouts. “Delete that footage, try again from the top, no crap comments like that, Elliott. This is a show about romance and love. Sell it.”
Hailey sways her ass back to the limo and climbs inside. I blow out my cheeks before releasing the pent-up breath and shake my shoulders attempting to rid the tension. I'm a fucking actor, I can do this. Thomas counts us in silently, and the red light blinks back on.
This time, when her leg pops out followed by her dark head of hair, I'm ready. I let a dazed smile curl up my lips as my emotions revolt inside my stomach. Miles is right, we will send her home tomorrow.
I step forward meeting her and reaching for her hands as if I can't resist. “Hailey,” I breathe, and I'd believe me if I was watching the scene play out.
She smiles flirtatiously. “Surprise!”
“Put her back in the cake,” Elliott says, and Thomas swears before yelling for filming to stop again. I drop her fingers like she's burned me and step back.
“Seriously, we don't want this one.” Miles faces Thomas, his face serious as he gestures at Hailey.
She rolls her eyes and props her hand on her hip. “I'm just here for publicity, so calm down.”
Elliott rubs his forehead. “You're taking the place of someone that could be our mate.”
She scoffs. “I'm sure Rafe will test out all those poor omegas, and you'll know in no time who your match is, if they are in the house that is. I'm betting on Rafe never finding love, though.” She examines her long fingernails that resemble purple claws before bringing her calculating gaze back to me.
“Are you forgetting who went to the media with the other person's secrets?” Miles asks, lifting a pierced eyebrow.
She smirks, her eyes sparkling. Her gaze rakes down to my shoes. “It was worth it.”
“Bitch,” Elliott says.
She shrugs. “I prefer Queen Bitch, thanks.”
“Focus.” Thomas steps between us, cutting through the tension with his bark. “Now places, from the surprise.”
I drag my hands out of my pockets and force myself to take her fingers in mine again. Disassociating, I paste on my signature smile.
