Page 65 of The Boss Omega
A small tingle runs through me at the thought, and I quickly pretend to be extremely interested in a display of honey sticks.
Silas insisted Graham drive us here, which should have been my first clue. The moment we piled in, Silas slid into the back beside me and took my hand. He planned this.
The second we step out of the car, he recaptures it. Now we’re walking down the closed-off street with Silas holding my hand firmly in his, his thumb brushing slow, possessive circles across my knuckles.
Naturally, Graham responds exactly the way Graham I expect. “Oh look,” he says cheerfully, slipping his fingers around my other hand. “Two hands. What a coincidence.”
Silas can’t decide if he should smile or growl. So he does this odd little combination thing that makes my stomach flip.
For a few steps we walk like that. Me sandwiched between them, both alphas holding onto me like this is the most natural thing in the world. But then a family approaches from the opposite direction. Two betas and their two kids weaving unpredictably across the narrow pathway.
Graham releases my hand with a dramatic sigh rather than force the entire family off the path. Silas’ face is all smug satisfaction. I bite the inside of my cheeks to keep from laughing.
Behind us, Saint walks quietly. He hasn’t said much since we left the house. Actually, he hasn’t said much for the last few days. But the looks he’s been giving me lately are different from the sharp, angry ones he threw around when we first met.
They’re softer. Not exactly friendly. But less glowering. More somber. Confused even.
It reminds me a little too much of myself after my parents died. That particular look, not angry, not sad exactly. Just unmoored. Likeyou've forgotten which direction is forward. I knew that look from the inside. I wore it for about a year.
My emotions had been everywhere back then, grief crashing into anger, numbness bleeding into panic. One minute I felt like I was drowning in sadness, the next like the world had swallowed me whole and forgotten I existed. I’d had nothing. No family. No job. Still in college, trying not to fail out but not really caring if I did. OmegaBox hadn’t even been a dream yet.
Just the memory of that drifting, hollow feeling settles in my sternum like ballast. Maybe Saint is feeling something similar.
Graham points excitedly across the street. “This one looks good,” he says, already pulling Silas and I toward a booth with bright purple banners advertisingThe Best Donuts in Three Counties!
And just like that I forget my omega’s comment and am pulled right back into the excitement of the festival.
The donuts, it turns out, might actually deserve the title. Graham buys a small paper tray loaded with them and immediately appoints himself Official Donut Distributor. Which apparently means he feeds them to me one at a time while narrating the experience.
“Alright,” he says solemnly, holding up the first one. “Apple cider. A strong opener for a fall festival.”
I take a bite. “Oh,” I say around the mouthful.
Graham beams.
The next one is maple. Then something with cinnamon sugar that makes my eyes close for a second because—WOW.
“Okay,” I admit after the third one, “these might actually be the best donuts in three counties.”
Silas snorts softly beside me.
I glance back at the booth to read the small wooden sign with the bakery’s name carved into it and make a quick mental note to send it to Cammie later. These will definitely be featured at our next Wednesday meeting.
Graham offers me another donut. Chocolate glazed.
"I have to stop," I say, putting my hand up. "It's not cheat day."
"It's a festival," Graham says, like that settles it.
"One more won't hurt," Silas adds from my other side.
I look between them. "You two are a terrible influence."
"We're an excellent influence," Graham says. "Your omega agrees."
She does. Enthusiastically.
"She has no self-control," I inform him.
