She cracks a smile. “It is. I’ve… met another guy.”
“Another guy?” I whistle. “You go, girl.”
“Yeah. It’s not that simple.”
“What is ever simple?” I frown. “What did this one do? Tell Auntie Coco everything. Whose ass do I have to kick?”
“No, please, don’t. No ass kicking. It’s not his fault.”
“Isn’t it? That’s what they always say. What did this one do?” I brush crumbs off my lap. “Is he in a pack, too, while flirting with you?”
“No, he’s… he’s an omega.”
I sit up straighter. “Okay, that’s a different problem.”
Not a problem per se, but omegas look for packs, Ruby thinks she may be a beta after all, and betas… well, they mostly are monogamous. Gigi is an exception, and admittedly, there are many such cases, but the majority of betas seem to prefer a relationship with one person only.
Usually another beta.
“I know,” she says miserably. “Why do I always choose the path less traveled and not the path everyone expects from me? It would make my life so much easier.”
“Ah, girl. You and I both. We’re two peas in a pod.”
“Two peas in an ill-fitting pod,” she grouses.
“It’s the world that’s wrong. Not us.”
“So… you don’t disapprove?” she whispers.
“Of your hunky omega? I don’t know, depends. Got a pic to show me?” I wink.
She shows me her phone and okay, he’s damn cute.
“He’s pretty,” I say. “And whether I approve of it or not, it shouldn’t matter to you, Rubes. Are you happy? Is he happy? That’s all that matters.”
“Easy to say.”
“I know. Do you get along well? Do you do stuff together?”
“Stuff? Like sex?” Her face is red like a tomato, and I start laughing. I can’t help it. “Yeah.”
“Apart from that,” I say. “What about common interests and activities?”
“Do you and Zach do that?”
Good point. I’ve known him for a while, but from afar mostly, and the only thing we’ve ever done together—apart from this kissing session—was the training he gave me right before.
Do we have anything in common? I never thought about it because I never thought he was interested and I’d buried my own desire to avoid getting hurt.
“We should do what makes us happy,” I say and feel the truth of it in my bones. “You and I, Rubes, we should do what gives us pleasure. Life is short. Let’s go get the guys we want, and fuck the pea pod.”
She giggles and we high-five. “Why not? It’s not like we have a choice. We are who we are, and fuck the pod indeed.”
“It’s not like we have a choice.”
Her words stay with me long after she leaves, because she’s right. One can choose to act in a certain way, to become better or worse, to adapt to the ways of the world.
But can one choose who one is?
