Ren scoffs and shakes her head, jabbing a finger in his direction. “Don’t start that with me.”
His brows jump. “Start what?”
“That flirty fuckboy thing that makes all the omega’s melt.” I choke on my tongue when she calls him a fuckboy and the cameraman snickers while the producer gasps like she’s offended. Florence doesn’t seem to notice though. “It won’t work on me.”
Court chuckles. “It won’t, hmm? I kind of thought it already did.”
She shakes her head solemnly. “Nope. I’m immune.”
His smirk only grows. “Interesting. Seeing as how not too long ago you were moa-” Her hand snaps up and slams over his mouth, stalling his words. His green eyes crease at the corners and I know he’s grinning against her palm.
“No,” she says firmly, like he’s a dog that’s just done something naughty. And from the flush I can see on her cheeks, maybe he did. “None of that, pretty boy.”
He curls his fingers around her wrist gently and pulls her away from his mouth, only to bring it right back and press a kiss to the center of her palm. “Sorry, Pix. I lose all sense of self when I’m with you. Forgive me?”
There’s a pause, a weightless moment where they just stare at each other and then she strokes her fingers down his cheek. He leans into her touch. “Yeah, pretty boy,” she murmurs, sounding sad. “I forgive you.”
I get the impression that she means for more than just this. That she’s forgiving him for not choosing her, for not being brave enough to pick love over duty.
Courtland must be feeling the same, because he stares at her hard, lips slightly parted, a look like grief passing over his face.
“Pix,” he breathes.
She sighs and shakes her head, those gorgeous eyes of hers flicking toward the camera and then back to Courtland. “Sorry. Let’s try that again.” We both watch as she closes her eyes and shakes out her shoulders, making her messy bun bounce and a wave of the scent of her soap float on the air. A smile curls her lips as she opens her eyes again, making that dimple in her left cheek pop. “Hi, Court. It's lovely to see you.” She steps back, bumping into me, and I don’t move out of the way, loving the feel of her against me. “Piers was just helping me get everything set up.” She leans forward slightly, pressing the round ass of hersinto my lap, eyes sweeping up and down the path behind him. “Is the rest of the pack coming?”
Court’s still watching her with that grieving look on his face. “They’ll be along.”
She nods once, then reaches out to curl her fingers around his wrist, tugging him into her cabana. Now I back up, letting him into the space I helped her set up. Court comes in, the camera and the producer stay on the porch to catch the arrivals of my other pack mates. They’ll leave once that’s done, a whole slew of crew having invaded Ren’s space earlier to set up cameras to capture the date without having additional people in the cramped space.
Court looks around, taking in the pillow fort in front of the huge TV I had brought in, the snacks, the drinks. In the little kitchen the meal Florence spent the better part of the afternoon cooking smells amazing.
Ren looks up at him uncertainly, fingers twisting in the bottom of her sweatshirt, as she says, “So it’s not much. But Piers has assured me that you guys will enjoy what I have planned.” She glances at me uncertainly. Fuck, she’s back to having doubts.
“They will,” I tell her firmly.
My pack mate glances around again, taking in all the little touches Ren included that make it clear this is for our pack, and he looks thunderstruck. “You did all of this for us?”
She shifts. Rubs the top of one of her feet with the other. “I mean, yeah. That’s what I was supposed to do, right? And Piers helped with almost everything.”
A timer sounds from the little kitchen and Ren whirls toward it.
Court watches her his brow furrowed, as she bends over to check the contents of the oven, giving us a delightful view of her round ass. He edges closer to me, green eyes focused on theomega in the kitchen. “This is where you’ve been all day? With Pixie?”
I grin at him. “Yeah. Ren wanted my help and she wanted to make sure I was a part of the whole dating show process, so she asked me to stay.” Still makes my heart fucking warm to have her think of me like that, to be considerate of my feelings, my wants, and needs. Even if some members of my pack can’t be bothered to do it.
Are they really your pack then?
I push the intrusive thought away. Even if it's been popping up more and more. I’ve never felt the divide between the alphas of the pack and me more than I have in the last few weeks. In the real world, I’m able to be with them out in public. They include me in decisions, and they do their best to make me feel as included as possible.
But here?
It’s almost like they’ve forgotten I exist unless one of them needs a release, needs to fuck my ass or my mouth to get out the tension rachets higher and higher by being around so many omegas and not being able to do anything about it. By being aroundthisomega in particular.
It's gotten to the point where I feel more like a sex toy than a pack member, which I don’t necessarily mind. There’s something to be said for being used like that, so long as they make a point of caring for me after.
And that’s what’s been lacking. What has always been lacking maybe.
They want me, but not enough.
