Did he not hear I’m an Omega?
I rub at my face. “I’m an Omega and a liability to the company if I make some Alpha lose control on a job.”
He hums. “Oh, I suppose that’s true. I hope they let you come back. You’re one of the best producers I’ve ever worked with.”
Tears prick the corners of my eyes. Shit. I cried yesterday, and it’s like I can’t shove them back down now that the dam is open.
“Thanks, Doug. That means a lot. And I’m sorry for lying.”
I can almost hear him shrug through the phone. “Ain’t no problem with me. And I still don’t care. I just hope you can come back. I can go film for us, and if you email the questions, I can ask them. We’ll make this work until you can come back.”
I swallow hard to keep my voice from shaking. “You’re a good man, Doug.”
He clears his throat harder. “Well, I’ll leave you be for now. We can figure out a time to meet up for editing later. You’ve had a rough week. Recoup, okay?”
“Sounds good. Thanks for checking in. Talk to you later.”
He hangs up first, and I lie here for a second. At least he doesn’t hate me for lying.
My phone buzzes against my chest, and I pick it up. The screen turns on with a notification from our group chat.
Wes:
Morning, Gorgeous. If you’re up, coffee’s waiting. I’ll toast a bagel when you come down.
My smile turns into a wide grin, and I find the momentum to climb out of the nest.
New washed clothes are folded in a basket near the closet, some stuff we bought last night. Dellum’s about forty-five from here, and I didn’t feel like making them do the drive twice. I’ll get the rest of my clothes while we’re there. I’ll probably keep wearing their hoodies and shirts when I don’t have to be presentable for work.
I pull on black leggings and Wes’s navy blue college hoodie. It’s too big, the sleeves long enough to hide my fingers, and it smells like him.
I step out of the room and shut the light-blue door behind me.How did they pick my favorite color?I don’t think I ever told them my favorite shade of blue, just that it is my favorite color.
The smell of coffee hits first.
I follow it down the stairs and into the kitchen, tugging the sleeves of Wes’s hoodie over my hands. Floorboards creak. A chair scrapes. Music filters in low from the speaker by the fridge, some kind of mellow rock, probably from Ford’s playlist.
Wes stands by the toaster, peeling a bagel in half.
Logan sits at the island, phone in one hand, tapping out a message with the other.
Ford gives me a smile as he glances over his shoulder at the sink, washing something. “Morning, Love.”
Jace meets me halfway, holding out a matte black travel mug. He nudges the cup into my hand and brushes his lips across my temple. “Morning, Frankie.”
A small smile tugs at my lips. “Morning.”
I step into the kitchen and stand at the island next to Logan. Wes moves toward me, bagel in hand, a napkin tucked underneath. Cream cheese already melts at the edges.
He grins. “Last one. Claim it or lose it.”
I take it. The bagel and the space they’ve made around me, as if we’ve done this every morning for years.
Logan glances up from his screen. “Movers are about ninety-minutes out from Dellum. We should head out soon if we want to beat them.”
My heart hammers a bit. “I bet getting movers last minute wasn’t cheap. I can send money to whoever booked it.” I pull out my phone.
Ford comes over and places his hand over my screen before I can unlock it. “We’ve got it.”
