“Yeah, just had a meeting. We should be done by three.”
“Did Paxton ask you about dinner tonight?” Billie crosses her arms over her stomach, that bit of smile disappearing. She rarely smiles, though, so I’m not worried. When I shake my head, she sighs. “Of course not. Well, we’re going to a steakhouse I saw mentioned on a food vlog in downtown tonight if you want to join us.”
“Of course.” I wrap my arms around her shoulder for a quick hug. “I’ll have Paxton give me the details while we’re cleaning up after practice.”
I don’t dare look at Carys again before heading back toward the rink and the rest of my team.
Chapter Four
BILLIE
It’s not until Rhett disappears deeper into the arena that I realize my mistake. When was the last time I made plans in front of someone that was clearly being left out? I’m so off my stride right now. As if being late wasn’t a bad enough start. What a horrible first impression. And it’s not like there’s a large group of partners I can fade into here like there was in LA. No, there’s only the assistant coach’s daughter right now.
I turn toward her with a grimace.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry. That was really rude to do in front of you.”
Please, please don’t hate me for it.
“It’s fine!” She smiles and shakes her head, easily dismissing my faux pas. “But, speaking of food, have you gotten a chance to eat something? Timber brought me straight here, and I could really use some lunch.”
I did, actually, but turning down her offer feels like the wrong choice right now. I’m not oblivious—my personality doesn’t lend itself to making fast friends. I’m quiet and reserved, slow to warm up and even slower to trust. Some people offer their entireselves on a platter, convinced that the pieces they will inevitably lose aren’t worth hiding away. Others keep it all behind locked gates and only offer the keys to select people. I am very much so the latter. It took me a solid season and a half in LA to really feel like part of it all.
Instead of answering her question, I mess with the strap of my purse and ask my own. “Timber?”
“He’s one of the players,” she explains. “He dropped me off.”
Does she not have a car? Nashville is fairly walkable, but we’re firmly in the suburbs out here.
Before I can figure out what exactly to say next, she frowns and pulls her phone from the small bag draped across her body and resting on her left hip. She sighs and then taps on the screen before dropping it back out of sight.
“Everything all right?” I ask.
She nods, her cheeks pink. “Just busier than I expected to be this time of year.” She blows out a breath, seeming to center herself. “It’s all right. I’ll get caught up tomorrow.”
“What do you do?” The question feels a bit formal. I hide my grimace and mess with my engagement ring.
Carys gives me a shy smile as she tucks her hair behind her ear. “I’m a florist,” she says after a minute. “Mostly weddings. It was a hobby I picked up in college. Dad helped fund my storefront downtown when I moved back this summer.”
Well, that could certainly explain the subtle floral scent that clings to her.
“I didn’t really think I would get much traction until next year, but apparently Dad’s been giving my name to everyone and their dog, so I’m… drowning a bit, to be honest.”
Her cheeks flush again, and she glances around while shuffling her feet, her body angling toward the front doors of the arena. She’s clearly embarrassed. I take a step closer to her, wanting to soothe over some of her worry, before forcing myselfto stop. I clasp my hands behind my back and breathe deeply, ignoring the itching under my skin at seeing her unease.
Damn. All that talk I’ve heard over the years isn’t exaggerating the impact an Omega can have on others. It’s something I’d assumed was over-hyped. I mean, I haven’t interacted with all that many of them and the few times I have, it’s been within larger groups. They’re rare, and most are in long-term relationships way younger than they probably should be. Between their need for stability and comfort and the Alpha desire to covet and protect, it’s not all that surprising, to be honest. If what most Alphas feel is stronger than this sudden, irrational desire to ease Carys’s nerves, it’s a wonder they manage to function without looking like complete idiots.
I clear my throat. “You said you were wanting to grab lunch? I think I saw a Greek place on my way here.”
A bit of a bold choice given we’re firmly in the South, but no way I can do anything with a ton of potatoes anymore this week. The bite of Kalamata olives sounds just about perfect right now. Her smile is bright and unrestrained.
“Greek sounds perfect.”
She walks next to me as we leave the arena, the fall sun warming my face as a light breeze rustles the nearby trees. It dissipates the orchid scent that clings to her clothes. I drop my bag into the backseat of the no-frills SUV Paxton gave me last year to celebrate me getting my own classroom. Carys slides into the passenger seat, twisting her hair over her shoulder as she wedges her own purse between her feet.
“So, Dad mentioned you came from LA?”
Her soft voice cuts through the road noise surprisingly well, almost like it belongs here.
