“Hi, darling,” my father says as he gives me a sideways hug.
My mother kisses both of my cheeks and introduces me to the couple they’re talking to like I don’t know every person in this miserable town.
“Where’s Brent? I thought he’d be by your side tonight,” my mother says.
I grit my teeth. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from him.”
She puts her hand to her chest and gasps dramatically. “Is everything okay?”
My usual threshold for her bullshit is already half full. I look at the couple beside us, listening to our conversation with interest while pretending to listen to my dad’s boring recap of his trip to California.
“We’re fine,” I murmur. I know she’s not asking to be polite. She wants to know if her daughter is wasting the opportunity of having an alpha by her side. Too bad for her, because I don’t want an alpha. I have my sights set on a certain dark-haired beta, one who likes to hook chains to his jeans, hang out with his friends in Oakson Lake, and perform in shitty dive bars because it makes him feel alive.
As soon as I think about him, there’s movement in my periphery. When I look to see who it is, the most dashing sight awaits me. Axl Ritchie, in his usual punk glory, standing there in an all-black tux, one single chain hanging by his side. His shoes are fancy, a brand I should be able to detect, but I can’t stop staring at him as a full picture.
He’s beautiful, and he’s looking right at me.
Axl nudges his head to the side, motioning toward the empty hallway leading out of the ballroom. I discreetly watch him leave down that same path with the hope I’ll follow, and I have no intention of letting him down. Not anymore.
“I keep telling you, Stacey. That alpha is a good one. You need to figure out your future before someone else takes him from you.”
I give her a tight smile. “Yes, Mother. So you’ve told me repeatedly, but it takes two to tango. Now, I must excuse myself for a moment.” I turn to the others. “Too much vodka soda, if you know what I mean.”
“Stacey Hawthorne,” my mother chastises, but I’m already gone, moving into the hallway and further away from theballroom that feels so constrictive despite its massive size. The hallway is empty, and the further down I go, the harder it is to figure out where my drummer went. But then there’s an arm reaching out from a doorway and pulling me in quickly so no one can see.
I let out a surprised yell, prepared to fight the mystery person, but then the smell of freshly stormed skies meets me, and his laugh echoes into the empty dining room we’ve found ourselves in.
“Fuck, Axl.” I hit his shoulder, but he doesn’t budge. “You scared me!”
“Sorry,” he says, but it doesn’t sound like he is one bit. “I thought it’d be better if people didn’t see us enter together.”
I sigh. “Yeah, I guess.” I look down at his suit. The black material is tailored perfectly to his body, and the first few buttons of his shirt are undone so I can see the start of his chest. I’ve seen a lot of men in tuxes throughout my life, but this might be the first time I’ve finally understood their appeal.
“What’s that look for?” Axl asks with a playful grin. He steps closer, his hand going to my hip as he leads me backward. My back touches the wall softly and relaxes, loving the way he towers over me as he leans one arm above. My stomach flutters with desire, heat radiating off of him in droves.
“No reason.” I play coy, trying not to lose my composure by his proximity, but the way he’s looking at me is intimate, and it makes me giggle unintentionally.
“I guess I clean up well,” he remarks, satisfied by my reaction. “And so do you, but I already knew that. This dress is absolutely stunning.”
His finger comes up and hooks under the strap of my dress and lingers, feeling the smooth skin peeking from underneath. I bite my lip and move my arms around his neck. “I’m so glad you came.”
“I wouldn’t miss seeing you all dolled up for anything else.”
His voice is gentle, soft. It breaks something open in me. I wish we could walk right out of this room hand-in-hand and dance in front of everyone. I wish we didn’t have to think about anyone else and we could just be us. Axl and Stacey, dancing rather than doing this metaphorical thing we’ve been doing for years now.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, noticing the direction my mind went.
“I just—” I sigh. “I wish I didn’t have to go back out there. I wish we could just leave. Go wherever we want.”
“Me too.” He brushes a piece of my hair behind my ear, his eyes trailing over my face. “We can stay here for a moment, before?—”
He trails off, and I nod, agreeing, because I’d like nothing more than to stay in our bubble a little bit longer, far away from the judgemental people down the hall.
“How should we spend our time then?” I ask, my lips curving up.
“I can think of a few ideas.” He pulls me flush against him, my entire body igniting from the contact as my hands move to hold onto his jacket. Before he can say anything else, I tug him down and place my lips over his.
His scent spikes, like a rogue lightning bolt spooking us in the middle of the room. It rejuvenates me, and I realize I want his rare beta scent all over me. I want everyone I interact with at this gala to tilt their heads and wonder whose scent is covering my dress. I want to hold this piece of him proudly, even if we can’t be honest yet.
