Page 38 of Talk About… History

“Nah, you’re on the house this round,” Nash said, his expression shifting now. “I haven’t seen the footage, but it must have been impressive.”

“I’m sure Avery’s editing skills made it look that way,” Cohen agreed. “If she can take my awkwardly painful interview and sell it, then she’s a witch.”

“Just wait, dear brother, you’re all my next focus,” I sang out. Nash grinned but I heard Maverick and Cameron groan in unison behind me.

“You’re lucky we love you.”

Maverick’s words had a smile forming on my face. “I am lucky.”

Cohen and I shared a smile before Nash interrupted it by sliding our glasses over. I snagged mine and took a sip, the bubbles and sweet champagne the perfect combination. It was like the tension was slowly unwinding from my body now that I was surrounded by family and friends.

“So, your family,” I prompted. He didn’t even get a chance to answer before my mama was sliding in next to me.

“Who is this?”

“Mama, meet Cohen. Cohen, meet my mama,” I said, giving her the same introduction I did to my brother.

“Ah, the one you were smiling at your phone over,” she teased, giving him a warm smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“You as well, Mrs. Whitaker,” he said, the formality making Mama shake her head.

“Ugh, no. I’m just Lucy,” she protested. “Mrs. Whitaker was my mother-in-law. That woman was… something.”

“Noted,” he said. “Nice to meet you, Lucy.”

She beamed at him before giving me a wink and hurrying away.

“So, that’s my family,” I laughed. “Sorry you got thrown into the deep end.”

He glanced around the room, his expression one of longing more than anything. I had a feeling whatever he was about to tell me about his family would be worlds apart from what I’d experienced.

“I grew up in Stonefield. It’s a couple hours away,” he started. “My parents were always involved in what they called ‘high society’. I’m talking country clubs, haughty events in tuxedos, and I was always taught to be the quiet beta who blended into the crowd. The big parties were for the debutante omegas and the alphas becoming ‘true men.’”

“Ew,” I managed to say, shocked at how blatantly disrespectful that was. “I never understood anyone who acted like betas were just disposable.”

He shrugged. “I guess I’m used to that by now. I know not everyone thinks like that but it didn’t make me want to stick around much. My parents shipped me off to my uncle from the moment they could. Soon, I was begging to go.”

“Where did he live?” I’d shifted closer, both of us close enough to be touching. There was no real hiding the connection we had. It was a different level of intimate than I was used to. There was attraction, sure, but this was an emotional connection.

“He lived in Ashville, running a small hobby farm. He mentioned preparing for some festival, I wonder if it was the same one I keep hearing about,” Cohen mused, his hand finding my hip. He didn’t tense or act unsure, it was like touching me was as natural as breathing.

“It might be. I’ll have to dig up some old information on them,” I said, “maybe even do a historical section when I get my hands on the website.”

“That’s a good idea,” he agreed, smiling softly down at me. When we were this close all I could focus on was his complex blue eyes and the scent of herbs and citrus.

My entire body was relaxed now, even though I’d only taken a few sips of my champagne. He was so different than anyone else in my life and I had a feeling he had no idea how great he was.

“So, how does this tie into pizza?” I asked. It broke the moment we were locked into, but the last thing I wanted was to make this celebration weird with all my family surrounding us.

“Well, high society and dinner parties meant that we ate gourmet meals. We had a private chef and the only pizza I had was on my trip to Italy. Mom was terrified of carbs.”

“Was it just your mom and dad?”

He nodded. “They were an alpha-omega pair, picked by two affluent families. In their circle, packs weren’t common or celebrated. In fact, I know of only one that was part of their circle and they were mocked behind their backs. They eventually moved away.”

I wrinkled my nose. “They sound… pleasant.”

He let out a humorless laugh. “They’re something. I’ve only heard from Mom once since moving and that was a Christmas card she didn’t even fill out herself.”

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