“He probably thinks I’ve lost my mind.”
“No,” Jakob adds. “He knows you were hurt, and he doesn’t want to watch it happen again. The man really cares for you, Claire.”
That steals whatever sharp little retort I had ready. I glance across the room, where Dad’s nodding at something my mom says, and I remember my sister’s comment about visiting them more often. I make a mental note to make it happen.
Suddenly, the music changes. The softer background jazz fades into something louder and more romantic, and a ripple moves through the room. Conversations quiet, heads turn, and the doors at the far end open.
The bridal party comes in first to cheers and applause. I clap with everyone else, trying to smile, when Louis walks in with the beautiful woman on his arm, his Omega.
Her hand is wrapped tightly around his arm, her body angled toward him as if she’s making sure everyone sees exactly where she belongs.
It’s his new Omega, gripping his arm as if he means the world to her. Of course he brought her. He’s close friends with Betty’s husband, so why wouldn’t he arrive with proof that he moved oncleanly, publicly, easily, and me pretending I didn’t notice the empty spaces he left behind?
I want to gag, or accidentally stab a canapé with too much force.
Corey’s fingers brush mine on the table. A silent, steady pressure that tells me he has noticed everything—the way my smile has gone too tight, how Louis steals glances my way as if I’m something he misplaced.
“The jealousy is working up a storm,” Brody murmurs.
I nod and refuse to stare at Louis, but focus on everything else. Then the room erupts properly because Betty and her husband appear in the doorway, glowing and breathless and gorgeous together. Everyone calls out and whistles as they walk in, and for a moment, the ache in my chest is swallowed by the joy around us. They cross the room to the long table set at one end of the hall, the only assigned seating in the whole reception, facing the dance floor with the bridal party spreading out on either side of them.
Once they sit, the noise rises again. People drift back toward the bar, toward the food starting to come out on silver platters—finger food. The party resumes around us as if my heart didn’t just attempt to leave my body. It’s going to be fine. I’ve shown my face, my dates, and I don’t need to stay too much longer.
Corey leans close to my ear, his voice low enough that only I hear it. “For the record, if that’s the new Omega, he’s downgraded massively.”
I glance at him. “That’s awful to say, but I love it.”
He’s smiling, nodding.
Brody and Jakob take it upon themselves to hunt down the food platters, returning with small plates piled high for our table. In no time, we have more food than any of us can reasonably eat, from mini beef sliders, Korean fried chicken skewers, crisp arancini, pulled pork buns, little fish tacos, pastryrolls stuffed with lamb and rosemary, and roasted vegetable tartlets to a suspicious number of desserts Corey absolutely pretends not to have chosen himself.
Brody demolishes a slider in two bites, Jakob works through the chicken skewers with terrifying speed, and Corey eats as if every platter in the room has personally challenged him. The worst part is that I know this is them being polite and pacing themselves in public. These men are huge, and that means a lot of food.
Corey catches me watching and lifts one of the arancini balls between his fingers, his smile slow enough to make my stomach dip.
“You need to eat too, sweetheart,” he says, holding it out as if it is the most natural thing in the world.
“I can feed myself,” I tell him, even as I lean in.
His gaze drops to my lips. In fact, all of them are staring as he presses the food into my mouth. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like doing it.”
The arancini is warm and buttery when I bite into it, his fingers brushing my lower lip for half a second too long. Corey’s grin turns softer, more satisfied, and I hate how much I enjoy that.
Then the next twenty minutes become a blur of introductions, questions, and people pretending they are not interrogating me while absolutely doing so and gawking at the Alphas. Some of my acquaintances from high school arrive in a bright, laughing cluster, smelling of perfume and champagne. A woman I haven’t seen since graduation grabs my arm with both hands.
“Oh my God, Claire, when did this happen? How long have you been together?”
My heart trips. I glance at the men, which is my first mistake.
Brody smiles like he has never panicked in his life. “Long enough to know she’s hard to forget.”
Corey tips his head, eyes on me. “Not long enough to know all her secrets.”
Jakob just smiles, which makes it worse.
The woman’s eyes widen like she has just been handed premium gossip wrapped in ribbon.
I take another sip of champagne and pray for the floor to open as she heads off.
