His tone isn’t harsh, but it’s clear, and it hurts. My stomach twists with regret, and I suddenly wish I could take back every word. I feel so stupid.
“I didn’t mean—I wasn’t…I—” I start, but my voice falters as tears sting at the back of my eyes, and I don’t know how to finish the sentence. I want to tell him I didn’t mean to make things awkward, that I didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable, but the words get stuck in my throat. Instead I say, “What can I get you today?” in a lame attempt to brush off what just happened.
Mason softens, realizing how his words have affected me. “Look, Lake,” he says more gently, “you’re special, okay? And you deserve better than some half-assed, spur-of-the-moment hook up. You deserve a loving, mutual relationship.”
I nod, my eyes fixed on the floor, too embarrassed to look at him. Obviously he’s letting me know that it wouldn’t be with him. That smarts a little more than I expected.
“Yeah,” I mumble, my voice barely audible.Natural, right. “I get it.”
The silence that follows is thick, suffocating, and I feel my own stupidity pressing down on me. The easy camaraderie we usually share is gone, replaced by this awkward tension that I don’t know how to break.
Just when I think I might die under the pressure of it all, the bell above the diner’s door rings, cutting through the silence. I glance up instinctively, and my breath catches in my throat.
Chad walks in, his presence commanding the room just as easily as it did the tennis courts earlier. He scans the diner, and when his eyes land on me, a slow, confident smile spreads across his face.
Mason notices the shift in my attention and follows my gaze, his expression hardening slightly when he sees Chad. “It looks like you’ve got a customer,” he says, his voice low, almost warning.
I nod, still feeling the remnants of my embarrassment, but Chad’s arrival offers a strange kind of relief. It’s like a distraction from the mess I’ve just made, even if he makes me feel things too.
CHAPTER 3
Chad
After being giventhe brush-off by Dean earlier, I was roped into pointless conversation with my mother and her friends. She just wanted to show off her perfect, successful son. The fact I was recently onOmega in Paradiseis a big hit with her friends. And, of course, she will use it to gain status amongst them.
It’s probably the first time I can say she has been proud of me since I presented as an omega. I should just walk away. I don’t want to be a show-horse for her and her friends. But I don’t; I stay and eat up the attention…because, well, I crave attention.
Jenny fawns over me like I might be part of her future. It takes everything in me not to shut her down with a few blunt words. But I don’t. My mom’s way too happy right now for me to crush her pride.
For hours they insisted on hearing every single story I could tell about my time on the show. Mostly they just wanted to know if I could see Lilah falling in love. Of course I could. I’m not blind. Still, I tell them the stories they want until I grow bored of the attention. Until the reminder of the show becomes a reminder of what led me to the show.
A reminder of Richard and not being able to please him in the end. Of not being what he wanted.
I’m on my knees scrubbing the baseboards for the third time today, my fingers raw and stinging from the bleach. But I keep going, determined to make everything perfect before Richard comes home. The counters gleam under the kitchen light, and the living room looks like a showroom. I’ve even folded his laundry into neat stacks on our bed—socks paired, shirts pressed. I tell myself he’ll appreciate all this effort. Maybe he’ll even smile and say thank you the way he used to.
But the second he walks through the door, I know I’m wrong. He tosses his coat onto the pristine couch, nose wrinkling like something’s foul in the air.
“What’s that smell?” he snaps, ignoring my greeting.
“It’s just the cleaner,” I say, trying to sound casual. My heart pounds. “I wanted everything to be nice for you.”
Richard scoffs, stepping over the vacuum cord. “I’ve had a long day, Chad. The last thing I need is a chemical smell in my face the second I walk in the door.”
I swallow hard and glance around at the spotless room. “I’m sorry, I?—”
Before I can finish, he pushes past me toward the bedroom. My stomach is in tight knots. I trail behind him, hoping he’ll notice the neatly folded laundry on the bed. That it might redeem me in some way for the smell of bleach. Instead, he stops in front of the bed, his gaze going between the two neat stacks before he lets out a derisive snort.
“What’s this?” he demands. Then without warning, he swats the stacks onto the floor—socks and shirts scattering everywhere.
My perfume spikes with distress that I know he can smell, no matter how much I try to tamp it down. I know alphas don’t like it when my pheromones are too strong. “Richard, please…”
“You’re so desperate to show you’re useful, aren’t you?. It’s pathetic.”
Pathetic. I’ve heard that before. I lift my chin, trying not to cry.
He rounds on me, eyes narrowing. “Always hovering, trying to be the perfect omega. It’s suffocating.”
His words slam into me like a punch to the face. “I’m just…I thought…”
