Page 36 of Heat Hesitation

"To the luncheon, dumbass."

"I can't go to that. Even if I didn't do ultimatums, which obviously that's what they're trying to do here, I'd never go to an OFA event."

"Babe—and I say this with all the love in my heart—quit being an idiot."

"What?" I sit up. "Do I need to remind you—"

"Of course not. You know, you're not the only one who gets fucked over by the OFA. I mean, no, their agenda doesn't impact my health. But they control all our lives in a way. Look, you know I love my freedom as a beta. But the OFA, whose greedy little fingers are in every little pie, always push whatever is on their agenda like it's the most important thing on the table. Like our own struggles, everyone, whatever the designation, down here in the pits doesn't take precedence over their creed, to breed and bond all the frilly, special little omegas."

I let out a heavy breath, downing the contents of my glass. "I'm sorry."

"I didn't say that for you to be sorry."

"I know. But sometimes I forget that it's not all about me."

Mel winks, "Okay, so my point is… maybe you have a chance here, you know? Go to the event. Rub some elbows. Maybe make a friend or two, or hell, publicly claim your hella-connected pack and make a change from the inside, you know?"

"Huh." I guess I'd never thought of it that way. "I don't want to claim them just to infiltrate the OFA."

I think of Asher and his boyish good looks. His charming, sweet smile. Enzo, his intensity, his single-minded focus, and sharp features. Sully and his broad, powerful shoulders and stern expression perfectly suited to that square-shaped jaw and classically handsome face built for billboards. His strength and intelligence and gorgeous fucking body. Even Theo, as much of an ass as he is… holy hell, he's so panty-melting hot, no one could look at that pretty face, bright blue eyes, and messy, honey blond hair and not feel his stupid smile in every cell of your body.

"I don't even know how to…" I wave my hand about. I don't know how to do anything when it comes to courting. I'm useless. I've never dated, not really. I've had sexual partners, all betas, but no one for over a year since the idea of being with anyone after I met Asher was nauseating. So, here I am. Just a girl from the wrong side of the tracks with no clue how to go after what she wants. Because I do want them. Not because of their connections but despite them.

Mel picks up on my train of thought, gracelessly hopping off my couch. I don't blame her; my couch isn't easy to climb out of. "You need a dress!" She proclaims.

"Umm…" I bite my lip, glancing toward my bedroom, knowing full well that I do not own any dresses appropriate for an OFA luncheon, but even if I did… is that really where I want to claim them as mine?

"Yes!" Mel shouts and claps her hands, already heading to my room. I didn't realize I said the last part aloud.

Mel takes about five minutes to go through my entire closet, eyeing me with disgust the whole time, as though I'm not just a failure as an omega but as a woman for my lack of decent attire. We decided to call in reinforcements, and about an hour later, Mel and I let Roxy into my apartment. I trade her some birth control for a decent dress.

Though we're different sizes, we settle on an emerald green wrap dress because of its flexibility to fit my shape. Given the softness of the material, it probably cost more than my entire wardrobe.

Roxy, way too excited I'm going to the luncheon, encourages me to keep the dress as long as I need to, though I don't see myself going to many events like these.

I feel like a real live girl when she gives me a lesson in walking in low heels—we're both cautiously optimistic I can pull off the lower heel without falling—and how to fix my hair appropriately for a luncheon and not a strip club or my living room couch.

The following day, my nerves threatened to eat me alive. I told Enzo, the only one who follows me even when I'm at work and is the only one who might have skipped the luncheon to watch over me, that I was busy with the girls and would be safely tucked inside Queenie's, so he'd leave his post.

As soon as I decided to join them in public, I was excited.

I can't believe I'm doing this.

For the first time in my life, I realized I was excited to be an omega and that I might really, truly, have a pack. The thought makes my hands shake, and my heart flutter. I want them—all four of them.

Chapter 16

Ophelia

I'm going to throw up. I know it won't settle my nerves or my stomach, but I keep thinking that if I duck into the bathroom and let myself dry heave over the toilet for a minute, I might feel more in control.

I don't do it, but I think about it. I'm late. I left late, not for any fashionable purpose but because every act of forward momentum was nerve-wracking. I let my long brown waves hang down my back, failing at Roxy's updo tutorial. Since I didn't have to work yesterday and knew I was going to the fancy country club on the north side of downtown, I didn't take any scent-blockers, so I smelled like a proper unbonded omega. It's the only way they'd let me in, anyway.

The luncheon was in the afternoon, so I wasn't worried about being out late without the blockers. I still felt naked when I left my apartment without them, though.

The heels were good for one thing: forcing me to move slowly. It gave me something else to focus on other than greeting the guys in public for the first time since we officially met.

I snagged a glass of champagne from a passing server, making sure to smile at him, though I think I showed too much teeth and enthusiasm and freaked him out.

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