“You are ethereal poetry with a tragic backstory. Your friend here is radiating sharp knives and enemies-to-lovers energy. I am merely longing to be the squishy middle.”
“The beta butter filling in this genre sandwich?” The fellow beta shifts her weight on her heels, cocking one hip to the side.
“Yes, that. Beta butter is delicious and under-appreciated.” Am I really usingbeta butteras a euphemism? The thought of either of them tasting mybeta buttersends a pulse of blood under my jock strap. “It is part of the rules of the beta handbook. Page four. Right between the sections on overthink your place in the dynamics of a potential pack and quietly suppress your own emotional spiral so the omegas can have theirs first.”
“There’s a rulebook?” Emily’s soft smile is the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen. “Mine must have gotten lost in the mail.”
I nod. “Chapter seven is a classic about crying in the shower after accidentally catching feelings for an unbonded alpha.”
Emily’s smile slips.
“And who wrote this rulebook?” Emily’s friend asks. “I never got my copy, either.”
I beam proudly over my imaginary publication. “Self-published by an emotionally eager bisexual with great taste in the stock market.” I gesture to myself and take a little bow. “Very exclusive. Chapter Five:Do Not Flirt with Pretty Blondes Who Could Bust Your Balls Just by Thinking About It.”
She doesn’t laugh but her lips tilt up, giving me a feeling of victory not unlike winning a game.
I continue. “Chapter Six:Ignore Instincts and Flirt Anyway. End Up Single and Crying into My Protein Shake.”
“Is there a chapter on blondes that don’t bust your balls?” Emily asks.
“But of course.” I answer “Chapter Nine:Do Not Fall for the Quiet Ones with Big Eyes and Potential for Emotional Damage.Subsection A:You Will Fall Anyway. Cry in Private.”
“You need help.” Emily’s friend rolls her eyes.
“Chapter Ten!” I add with flair, loving our game of improvisation. “Betas in Therapy. Now with Bonus Worksheets!”
Emily grins, and I’m glad her smile has returned. “How many chapters are there exactly?”
I let my gaze rake over the beauties before me, shifting my attention from easy flirtation to something more heated. “Depends on how long I survive between the two of you.”
“So…” The blonde, whose name I still need, checks the time on her smartwatch. “Twelve minutes?”
“Bold of you to assume I will last that long.” I reply with a wink earning me a delightful offering of their soft laughs.
A buzzing from Emily’s back pocket pulls her smile away from me as she reaches for her cell. She plucks it out, squinting at the screen. I can’t help seeing the caller ID:Your Favorite Pain In The Ass.
Joy tugs at her lips again as she shifts the phone from one hand to the other. “It’s my brother. I should get this.”
She steps away, and the other woman’s gaze follows her. Her look is one I feel in my bones. Longing. It softens her features, making her even more beautiful.
“I believe I still haven’t gotten your name,benzinho.”‘Honey’slips off my tongue without thought, somehow fitting for the woman who’s all smooth curves.
“Ava.” She doesn’t hold out her hand.
“Are you an athlete, Ava?”
“Swimming,” she answers, short and to the point.
I smile. “Was this your first rugby game?”
“No. I used to watch it with my mom. She was big on rugby even though it’s not very popular in the States.”
“It is the same in Brazil. But my father was Argentinian, and it was popular where he grew up.” I don’t tell her how I got into the sport to honor the man who died when I was young or how disappointed my mother was when I didn’t go into politics like my brother.
Those aren’t things you share the first time you meet someone, and I’m more interested in learning about the beautiful woman in front of me than burdening her with my past.
But before I can ask Ava anything more about herself, Emily comes back. “Um, I’ve got to go. My brother… ” She looks at Ava, then me. “There’s just something I need to deal with.” She tucks her phone back in her pocket. “It was a great game, Lucas. I’m glad we came.”
