Tessa turned quickly. I wanted that damn hood off. I wanted to see her face. As I thought it, she lifted her hands, pushing them beneath the shimmering material and lifting the mask away.
Our eyes locked, her bright blue colliding with my honeyed amber.
A thousand stars fell to earth in that moment, lending their brightness to fuel the explosion between us.
32
TESSA
LOS ANGELES…
When the shimmeringmaterial of the hood half concealing my face fell away, the room seemed to shift sideways.
Everything tilted, sliding over to new positions as my reality began to rearrange. Obviously, it was only in my head. The vanity didn’t whisper across the floor. The ridiculously, big bed stayed firmly rooted to its original spot. The art on the walls remained level. I wasn’t sure how it wasn’t really happening, seeing as a category 8 earthquake was shaking the foundation of everything I’d come to know over the last twenty months. I’d started accepting that my future was one of piss poor luck, loneliness, and dumpster diving for dinner. How could I trust the older woman’s words? That I was safe here. Josie was safe.
That’s when my eyes foundhis.
Golden flecks sparkling within dark amber. Even when Ryder’s gaze had been shadowed by the low lighting backstage, I’d been mesmerized by it. I wondered if he smelled the same—like smoke, high dollar bourbon, and caramel. I couldn’t tell though, not while his individual scent was mingling with those of the three other Alphas nearby. The room was filling with their aromas, not fighting for dominance but instead weaving together in the most delicious way. It took me precious seconds to realizethat my body was responding of its own will, my Omega stretching and reaching and perfuming in a way that could only meanhome. Home was… all of them.
Slowly, I shifted my gaze to Dixon St. James. Storm gray eyes sliced through the air, holding terrifying promise. Yet, beneath the dark cloud in his gaze was the guy who’d stumbled down the steps to help with Josie’s stroller. Tray Rivers stood slightly behind Dixon. The drum prodigy. I used to rewind Oblivion Haze music videos over and over again just to see the way he expertly spun the sticks in his hands before slamming out a beat. A curl of dark, ash brown hair fell across his forehead and his eyes were nearly the same shade somehow, iris nearly disguising pupil. Mac was a few feet apart, hovering near the closed door. He was tall, more refined than the others. Golden hair combed back and parted neatly. His hazel eyes keenly watched, as if he could discover all my secrets with enough time.
Drawn by a magnetic force, I found myself looking into Ryder’s intense eyes once more.
That kiss—the one that I’d always irrationally blamed for ending my world—surged back with dizzying force. I closed my eyes, trying to fight the memory and the internal chaos it always caused in its wake.
“Tessa, I know that you’re overwhelmed,” the gentle Beta’s voice filtered through the past, pulling me back to the present, “but the sooner we can complete the product inspection, the sooner the Eros agents will leave. And that part of your life will over. Okay?”
I parted my lashes, shifting my body to find her face. The first real signs of age marred her otherwise pretty face, wrinkles surrounding watery blue eyes. Her hair was natural, streaks of silver interrupting fading mouse brown. She was short, thick around the middle, and reminded me of the type of person who’d never be short on motherly advice or fresh baked cookies.
“What do I have to do?” I finally managed to push out the question, voice trembling. I’d been so full of myself throughout this ordeal. I’d held my ground against assholes like Beta ‘Loves to be a Dick’ and Beta Grouse. Yet now that I was here… I didn’t know what to do. Besides, I’d only been strong to save Josie. I’d gotten my courage from her and for her. Right now, I didn’t need to fight for her. She was snoozing like an angel, her body resting against probably the softest bed she’d ever felt. Being strong only for myself didn’t feel worth it. I couldn’t muster the adrenaline.
“Well,” Catalina looked uncomfortable, clearing her throat before lifting her tablet and bringing the screen to life. She seemed to clinically detach herself as she read the most recent Eros email. “The Institute outlines a full, um, inspection. They’d like the client to check you over, as thoroughly as possible.”
I bit my lip, glancing down at the thin, fragile cape which now, suddenly, felt like my only armor. I didn’t look back up. I didn’t want to see Cat’s face, which was likely sympathetic, or the men’s expressions. If they seemed excited, I’d feel like all they wanted from me was a body, the right body, to satisfy their Alpha natures. If they seemed disappointed, my already depleted confidence would hit rock bottom.
Hands shaking, I undid the two clasps that kept the hooded cape in place. I took a deep breath, parting the material outward and then sliding it slowly off my shoulders. The silky, crystal-speckled cloth pooled to the floor at my feet. No one said anything, though I could hear movement from my audience. I reached for both spaghetti straps.Do it quickly. Rip it off like a Band-Aid. It will hurt less that way.
The thin straps moved easily, inch by inch, I let them fall down to loop around my upper arms. The dress was fitted well enough that the bodice didn’t immediately slip.
Just get it over with.
Dampness began to build in my eyes and a knot formed in my chest. I tried to swallow down the building sob, but it continued to rise higher, threatening to escape.
I curved my fingers around the gathered cowl neckline of the dress. I couldn’t do it. My hands were locked in place, unwilling to lower. A stupid tear slipped down my cheek. And then another.
“Stop.” That single word held so much authority and…malice. The knot grew larger, fear bloating it so much that the sob was going tobecome a scream before it exploded from my mouth. Now, I did look up. I’d made one of them angry. I hadn’t cooperated quickly enough.
It hadn’t been Ryder.
Dixon had stepped closer. His hands were fisted. His expression warped with rage.
“I’m… I’m sorry.” I stuttered out, the tears falling faster. “I’m just nervous. I… I can take it off. I will take it off.” I pulled the dress down.
Before my upper body was fully exposed, Dixon closed the distance between us so fast that I gasped, stumbling backward and losing my balance. His large, muscled arm wrapped around me, keeping me from falling. I was petrified, body shaking.
“Don’t you fucking dare be sorry,” he growled. Now that we were so close, I could see his own eyes—the color seeming to flip between winter platinum and palest blue—were glistening. “You are not a product. We don’t need to inspect you.”
He helped me stand upright and then Dixon fixed my dress with slow, gentle movements. He towered over me, hiding my entire body from the rest of the room. When he’d firmly seated the second strap back on my shoulder, some of his wrath melted away.
