Page 15 of Claiming Their Omega

“Of course he did. He insisted on everything his way, didn’t he?”

“Don’t most Alphas?”

“Hey now!” Hendrix puts his hands up in a placating gesture, grinning at me. “Don’t stereotype!”

I laugh. Maybe it’s the bit of alcohol, although one drink isn’t enough to give me anything other than a bit of a relaxed buzz, or maybe it’s just the insanity of the night, but I can’t stop laughing.

Maybe it’s just that these four really are that funny. Or, well, three. Cade still hasn’t spoken. Not surprising.

“Can I get another drink?” I ask Hendrix.

He eyes me carefully. “Maybe just one more.”

“Are you calling me a lightweight?”

“I’m saying that you’ve had an upsetting night, and you weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet.” Hendrix doesn’t sound condescending, just genuinely concerned. “You don’t want to drink your troubles away, trust me.”

“I’m not,” I promise him. “I mean it. I’d just like one more.”

“One more.”

“Yes, Dad.”

Hendrix rolls his eyes and gets up from the bar. When he comes back, he has another drink, and a glass of water.

I glare at him. “I know what you’re doing.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

I roll my eyes at him but I do drink the water, then the alcohol. It’s been forever since I had anything to drink other than wine. I grimace. “That’s the other thing.”

“The alcohol here isn’t that bad,” Jesse teases.

“No, no, it’s not the drink. It’s fucking William.”

“Fucking William,” Easton and Jesse chorus in amusement and agreement, raising their beers.

“We only ever drank wine. He was such a snob about it. And don’t get me wrong, wine tastes good, but it doesn’t taste five hundred dollars good! It’s all a scam!”

“Oh, this is adorable,” Hendrix says under his breath.

I go to kick him, but Jesse yelps ow instead, so I think I accidentally got him. “Sorry.”

Someone puts a familiar country song on the jukebox and several people cheer and start dancing. I laugh. “I forgot that people did that here.”

“You seem to have forgotten a lot,” Jesse notes.

I want to say something smart and snappy at him, but I’m scared that he’s right. “I think I wanted to forget.”

Jesse looks like he isn’t sure what to say to that. He glances away, something dark and unreadable in his eyes. I swallow hard.

Another song is put on the jukebox and people cheer again. I grin, watching the dancers. I used to do a lot of dancing when I was here as a teen, sneaking in. I did more dancing than drinking honestly. It was all about being in the crowd of people for me. I didn’t need alcohol to feel alive and to let go.

“You know what? I like this song.” I down the rest of my drink. “I’m going to dance. Who’s with me?”

“Uh…” Jesse looks panicked.

“Not you. I wouldn’t dance with you anyway.” I wave my hand, then point at Hendrix. “You.”

---