We’re off like a shot, and I’m clinging to Corbin’s forehead like a raccoon clinging to a trash can. Everything feels off balance, and if none of us fall and break something, it will be a miracle. This seems like a huge lawsuit risk for the city. When I catch Mayor Liu’s expression, she’s figured that out too. She looks slightly horrified as we all run, one stacked on top of the other, through the uneven sand toward the flag.
A barking down below us catches my attention, and sure enough, Deputy is running alongside with his tongue lolling, looking like he’s having the best time in the world. Corbin and I are in the lead, but Cole starts catching up to us. Bax and Connor are close behind until Bax loses his footing and goes tumbling down, face-planting in the sand. The alphas roll off each other in a way that looks like they didn’t majorly injure anything. We pull ahead of Cole again before Harlan and Rose start to overtake us. I think Harlan’s going to win until Bram, of all alphas, passes both of us. He’s the lankiest of all the alphas, but he must be packing some muscles underneath those elbow-patch cardigans, because he crashes over the finish line moments before me and Corbin do.
Corbin drops to his knees, which gives me the ability to safely climb down. He’s puffing, and so are the other alphas around us. As soon as I’m off his back, I come around to his front and drop to my knees in front of him.
“Sorry we didn’t wi—omph!” I throw my arms around him and kiss him. It’s not chaste, and there’s no regard for the people around us. His arms band around me, pulling me flush with his chest.
We break apart when Deputy squeezes his big body between us, tail wagging, tongue licking at our faces.
“What was that for?” he asks, chuckling and pushing Deputy to the side.
“That was so fun. Thank you,” I say simply. Cause it was. It was fun to race with my friends. It was fun for Corbin to feel like part of the community with me, and it finally felt like we’d become part of the larger group. Together.
He leans in, pressing a softer kiss to my lips. My arms circling his neck.
We untangle, and he helps me to my feet. I catch a glimpse of Clara and Bram, and sure enough, they’re being handed a basket of what looks like homemade goods with a big blue ribbon affixed to the side.
Eli
It was all okay for a while. The puppy, Deputy, stayed by my side. I have a sneaking suspicion Corbin is training him in some early service dog techniques. He climbed partly into my lap and nudged at my hand, and I’d forgotten how grounding that kind of weight and contact can be. He became a buffer between me and the noise.
I sat as far from the picnic tables as I could while still technically being part of the group. Rafe bridged the gap, quietly handing me whatever I needed as we went.
Then the race was announced, and the crowd shifted all at once from steady enjoyment to buzzing movement. I overloaded fast. When the airhorn went off, the puppy, who still needs more training because he's very much still a puppy, bolted after his favorite omega, racing along Corbin’s side.
That was it. I had to go.
I walked out to the bikes.
The rev of my bike’s engine washes over me the way it always does. Steady. Predictable. Calming. People noise isn’t like that. Cheering, shouting, laughing, every spike lands like a jab behind my eyes. Engines are white noise. Crowds are a rock band mid-solo. My brain can handle one a lot better than the other.
No one notices me leave, and I like it that way.
I also feel a little disappointed by it.
Everyone seems to be at the beach festival, so the hotel is quiet as I make my way through the halls to our suite. Once inside, I don’t bother with the lights. I just pull off my mask. It’s usually a comfort, but everything feels overstimulating right now.
I wander into the adjoining room I’ve been using, turn on the white noise machine, kick off my shoes, strip down to my boxers, and collapse onto the bed. I pull the weighted blanket over myself, the one I take everywhere, and let the pressure settle me.
I don’t know how much time passes before there’s a knock at the door.
I manage to peel myself out from under the blanket and pad barefoot down the hall. Through the peephole, I see familiar space buns and an even more familiar dark, freckled face. My stomach does something strange. It sinks with the disappointment I assume she’s here to deliver. I don’t care what Corbin said.
Then it flips, because she’s here. Our mate. Close.
I glance back at the bedroom. My mask is lying at the foot of the bed. No one else is here, and I don’t want to wear it in front of my Softness. I hope I don’t regret that choice.
I take a breath and open the door.
Winnie stands in the doorway, biting her lip and holding several takeout boxes.
She gasps softly when she sees me, then recovers quickly. “Hey,” she says, smiling, arms full. Her hair’s a little messy, strands escaping her style, bits of sand still clinging to her skin.
“Hey,” I reply.
“I saw you left the party early, and I wanted to make sure you were okay. And that you got these.” She lifts the boxes slightly.
My breath catches, and I have to remind myself to inhale. “You’re here to check on me?” I ask, not quite believing it.
