1
COCO
“Are you sure it’s not too much?” June asks, taking a step back, hands on hips, giving my grand oeuvre a critical look.
“Are you nuts? It’s never too much for us omegas.” I finish painting the kitchen cupboard the dusky pink I chose and grin proudly. “It’s perfect.”
“Maybe,” she concedes. “If only you hadn’t painted everything around us a shade of pink.”
“But that’s the whole point. Shades of pink: a sexy affair.” I put a finishing touch and climb to my feet. “This feels more like me.”
“You live in a pink apartment. The kitchen was already pink, now it’s just… pinker.”
“Exactly.”
“Coco…” She shakes her blond head at me.
“Too much?”
“Yeah.” She laughs. “But also it’s so you.”
“I know.” I grin. I’m over the top most of the time, but my friends get me. “Gimme five, bestie.”
June laughs again, high-fiving me. “Glad to see you happy.”
Right now, I really am. The pink is fighting the blues that hit sometimes. Every time the month rolls by and I don’t get my heat, I’m sad. I am an omega, dammit. I feel it in my bones. I’ve always known it.
So why won’t my body get the memo?
“Are we done here?” June glances around my newly painted kitchen. She’s dressed in streaked overalls, her blond hair caught back in a messy bun, and even so, disheveled and dirty, she screams omega. There is something about her heart-shaped face, her curves, her cute smile.
Whereas I scream. Just scream. Into my pillow, at night. On my balcony, in the mornings. Like a demented magpie.
I scream, look at me, I’m an omega. I’ve built the best nest, I’ve dyed my hair pink to match my apartment. I have the vibes, I have the signs. Let me into the club.
Isn’t it about time?
I realize June is frowning at me, still waiting for an answer.
“We’re done here,” I rush to say. “Thanks, girl.”
“You should have asked a rugged alpha to paint with you,” she says, “but I did my best.”
“A rugged alpha to smash up my kitchen and take me against the table, calling me a good girl,” I mutter, tapping a finger against my lower lip. “Oh yeah. Why didn’t I think of that?”
“No idea.” She giggles. “Any particular alpha in mind?”
“Too many to choose from,” I say dismissively. “You know me. I flit from bed to bed.”
“You’re so full of shit,” June says.
She’s right, but that’s only because I’m on a dry spell. Dry like the desert. And it’s not that I don’t see eligible alphas around me.
I do.
But those I like all seem spoken for. Which is another way of saying they keep falling for others and not me. I keep falling for unavailable men.
I just need to put more work into it. Into flirting and going out. Into hunting. I’m sure that’s the issue. Speaking of which…
