“But you didn’t expect him to publicly humiliate me?”
“Ash, you’re right,” she sighs and switches gears. “You were doing me a favor, and you didn’t deserve that.”
“Timber didn’t seem to appreciate the favor.”
“You’re right, you’re right.” She puts up her hands in defense. “I knew this had the potential to end badly, and I didn’t prepare either of you.”
I shrug like it doesn’t matter. I did spend two days replaying it in my head. But the Timber part of the date wouldn’t make the top-ten list of horrible things in my life.
“He was exactly what you said he’d be.” I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “Rough. I can deal with rough.”
Her mouth tightens, and I look away.
“It wasn’t him,” I say, quieter. “Not really.”
“No?”
“You know another omega crashed our date, right?”
“Oh.” Her voice tightens.
“Yeah.” I cringe, and it’s not fake. I’ve never had an omega friend. Not that I expected Ollie and me to be best friends forever. But I had hope. And she had wanted nothing to do with me.
“Ash…”
I cut her off. “I know this wasn’t supposed to be a magical scent match date night or anything. Alphas are always jerks, and that’s fine, but I thought, I don’t know,” I shrug and stir my coffee again, “omegas are supposed to stick together or something.”
It’s quiet for a moment. If I push now, will that be too over the top?
“Timber treating me like dirt is one thing, I’m used to that, but an omega…”
Marilyn takes a sip of coffee. Does she look uncomfortable?
“I left feeling like I’d failed some kind of test I didn’t know I was taking,” I continue. “Which is silly. I know that. But it’s hard not to internalize it when everyone else at the table already seemed…” I let that hang and shrug again.
Marilyn sighs. “Ash.”
“I’m not saying Timber did anything wrong on purpose,” I say. “He was overwhelmed. I could see that. But the way she looked at me…” I trail off, letting the implication do the work. “It made me feel like I’d walked into a room I wasn’t supposed to be in.”
“That’s on me,” Marilyn says.
I hold my breath. I want her to feel bad for me, but not think I’m totally pathetic.
“Really, Ash.” She reaches across the table and puts her hand on mine. “I’m better than this. I put you in an impossible situation, and I’m sorry. How can we make this right?”
“I don’t know,” I sigh heavily—maybe too heavily. “I wish I could just have a do-over, you know?”
Please, please, please, please, please.
“A do-over?”
I stare into my coffee. This has to work. All I need is a date, just a date. A chance to get close to them.
“I mean, you don’t want your dress to go to waste, right?” I manage to look at her. “I just wish I had someone to wear it for.”
She doesn’t say anything. Why isn’t she saying anything? She should say, ‘Ew, no, Ash, you’re gross.’
“Timber mentioned one of his teammates. He went on and on about him. Brian? Bruce? No…” I snap my fingers, pretending it just popped into my head. “Beckett. He’s supposed to be nice.”
