Page 143 of Forget

Shutting the truck door, I lock it with the key fob and turn toward her.

“You usually drive my grandparents, right?” she asks.

“Mmhmm, they’re fun to drive around,” I say, offering her my arm. “Something to hold onto while we walk.”

Accepting my arm by slipping her hand through, she nods.

“My grandmother makes me laugh,” she admits as we walk. “I wish I had that much confidence.”

“It’s easy not to give a shit when you’re in your seventies,” I remind her. “Miss Evelyn has lived a long time, is well protected, and can piss off whoever the fuck she wants. I will happily put a bullet in her enemies. That’s why I’m her favorite guard.”

Aisling’s lips twitch as I open the door to the restaurant. It’s almost noon, which explains why she’s so hungry. She guzzled down a cup of coffee, without food to chase it with, before leaving the house like a brat. Domh glared at her, while Aisling ignored him.

There’s a fuck ton of work to do with this little omega.

“Grab us a seat, please or we’ll be here forever,” I say. “I’m ordering a cookie with my soup, do you want one? They’ll make a good snack later if you can’t eat it now.”

“Chocolate chip, please?” she asks, looking around for an open table.

“You got it. Book it to the back of the restaurant, Aisling. I can see a table opening up,” I suggest to her.

Being over six-feet-tall has its advantages. Aisling walks quickly even though she can’t see what I do, simply trusting mewith this small thing. At least it’s more than the other guys in our pack have going for them.

None of us communicate well, though we try for each other. Granted, Aiden does it better with his dick, but Aisling needs more.

Ordering and picking up the food, I make my way through the crowd. Shit, you’d think this was the only place open in Minneapolis by how busy it is. Sliding the food onto the table, I hand the tray to someone bussing tables who is reaching for it already.

“Enjoy,” he says, continuing his work.

Folding myself into the chair, I watch as Aisling takes a deep breath of appreciation as she looks down at the food. We both take our spoons and begin eating, blowing intermittently. Sometimes, you’re just too hungry to wait.

“This is so good,” she murmurs, her eyes almost half mast with happiness.

“I need to keep snacks in my truck,” I tell her. “I always keep a basket filled with them while I’m driving. Your grandparents are snackers when they’re on the go. Miss Evelyn is also difficult to talk to when she’s hungry.”

Aisling snickers as she takes another bite, swallowing before she replies. “So that’s where I get it from. My mom rarely, if ever, snapped at anyone.”

I rarely hear her talk about her mother, and I hold the small mention tightly to myself.

“I’ve been driving for them for years, and they don’t like change,” I say. “I’m typically with them whenever they leave the house.”

“It’s nice to have normalcy,” Aisling says with a nod. “My days are never the same.”

“I’m gathering that,” I murmur. “You’re finding your rhythm, though, as you set up the structure forOmega’s Haven, right?”

“We are. The host club at the University of Lyon is supposed to be starting soon at the heat center. We had some things to nail down first,” she says, smirking as if she said something funny.

“Like what?” I ask. I don’t like not knowing what people mean, though I doubt Aisling did it on purpose.

“The host club is a group of people who are paid by students who are lonely, or want to learn how to flirt, date, and so on,” Aisling explains, tearing off a piece of bread that came with her meal.

“Sometimes, they have sex for money during an omega’s heat, but there are other reasons too.”

“Isn’t that the definition of a sex worker?” I growl, still confused.

“I won’t be paying them,” she says, shrugging. “They are donating their services to the heat clinic for any omegas that would like to have alphas during their heat.”

Remembering her exact dilemma, I relax slightly. “That’s ingenious,” I admit. “How did you even know they existed?”

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