Page 5 of Fight

I know better than to sweat in a gym filled with alphas, because my pheromones are thicker than usual.

“I hate when you wear that stuff,” Augustine groans.

“Do you know how many fights you’d get into if I didn’t wear this?” I ask him, smirking as he nods. “It doesn’t last as long, and I’ll shower it off when we get home. Right before my head hits the damn pillow.”

Quickly spritzing my skin, I watch as Augustine crinkles his nose. God, he’s such a baby. I’ll have to give myself another quick spray once I’m in my gym clothes.

“Alright, let’s go while I have the energy,” I tell him.

Getting out of the truck, we walk across the parking lot to the gym and sign in. Augustine gives zero fucks, following me into the bathroom after checking to make sure it was empty, and changes in the stall next to me. He’s so protective, which I know has to be from his alpha instincts.

You can’t fight biology.

Throwing our bags into a locker, we head out to spar in one of the private rings available for gym members. I’m a decent fighter, but I try not to let too many people know this. There’s too many punks who decide that they want to mess with the cute little omega, and I’m trying my best to stay out of jail.

After stretching to ensure neither of us will strain something, we both tape up our hands and begin. The world drifts away, along with all of its annoyances, till the world pinpoints to Auggie and his next move.

Over and over we go, each of us winning a round as we spar. I may be small, but I’m fucking scrappy, and I rarely play fair. Breathing hard, Augustine taps out first.

“At this rate, we’ll both be face planting into our pillows,” he teases me. “Let’s grab some milkshakes on the way home and call it good.”

“Why do you know all of my weak spots,” I moan as I nod in agreement, slowly removing the tape from my hands.

Augustine gets his off faster than I do before helping me unravel the bright tape. Thanking him, we suck down water as we leave, and I can feel fatigue starting to drag at my body as we pick up our gym bags from the locker room.

“Don’t fall asleep on me yet,” Augustine says, snickering. “It’s a good thing you can sleep in tomorrow and that it’s an admin day. The club is closed.”

Waving goodbye to the beta manning the desk, we leave the gym, walking to the truck. The all-night diner is down the street, and the cookies and cream milkshake hits the spot, injecting sugar into my veins.

“Can we get pancakes for breakfast?” I ask suddenly, really wanting them now.

Glancing at me from the corner of his eye, he nods as he continues to drive, drinking his own apple pie caramel milkshake. It’s odd that he always chooses that, when my scent is apple pie.

It’s why my mother always insisted on making it for me on my birthday, other than it being one of my favorite desserts as well. It’s one of the only good memories I have about her.

“Yes, we can,” he says, amused by my cravings. “Do you want to go to Craven Ridge Diner? We can go for a run beforehand.”

“That sounds amazing,” I say with a sigh. The diner is just outside of the city, and there is a beautiful state park that features the pancake establishment. It shouldn’t be busy on a Monday either.

It’s the perfect way to start the week.

“We’ll swing by the apartment to shower and change, and then I have to work on some accounting.”

I don’t trust people to do my books, so I do most of the administration work myself.

“Perfect. The dancers will be working on some routines tomorrow, but it shouldn’t disturb you,” he says. “I have some errands to do tomorrow too, so please don’t leave without me.”

“But Daddy,” I whine, enjoying as the tips of his ears turn red. “What if you get caught up in your stuff, and I finish up early? I’ll probably go straight home to nap anyway, and you know I can take care of myself.”

“Cerenity,” Augustine growls. While the spray helps keep alphas’ scents away, I still want to submit when he growls at me like that.

Swallowing hard, I tell my greedy pussy to calm herself down. Sucking on my straw, I decide a very cold shower sounds perfect before bed. I can’t use my toys, because Auggie shares a wall next to my room, and I’m not quiet enough.

Roommate problems, for sure, but he’s the best person to share an apartment with, so I can’t complain.

“I’m open to renegotiating in the morning,” I tell him with an innocent smile.

I’m very good at negotiating, so I’m not worried as he nods. My sugar rush rides through me to carry my energy through getting home, pulling off my clothes in my bathroom to shower, and tossing on a comfortable hooded T-shirt before I pass out.

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